You've disappointed me tonight, sweet lover, arriving home from work late, forgetting the things I asked you to pick up at the store. My anger at you is apparent in my stance, my voice, the flash in my eyes as you walk in the door late and empty handed. I watch your face as the sudden realization hits you, as you remember my request too late. An apologetic smile touches your lips. Your eyes seek mine asking forgiveness, but look down quickly when you see none is forthcoming.
"You're late again, my sweet." A thread of steel laces my softly spoken statement. "We both know what must happen."
"Yes.." You acknowledge, glancing quickly at my face, and then looking away. "I'm so sorryβ¦so much workβ¦" Your voice trails off, the tone soft, defeated.
"I've laid out your things for this evening." I nod my head toward the stairs. "Shower and then put on the items I've left on our bed. Oh, and bring the hairbrush down to me when you're finished."
I watch you set your briefcase on the counter by the door. As you walk past me, I notice your cock is hardening, thickening. It looks full and heavy beneath your suit pants.
"Make it quick." I demand. I'm hungry. Your pace quickens and you disappear up the stairs.
In the guestroom downstairs, I've put my own clothes for the evening. As I walk there and close the door behind me, I'm already unfastening my blouse. I strip down and slowly slide lace-topped black stockings up my smooth thighs, clipping them to my garter belt. A matching black open-cup bra lifts my full breasts while leaving my nipples uncovered. I can't resist pinching and tugging at them, making them hard and sensitive. Finally, I slip a short silky black robe on, tying the sash snugly at my waist. After sliding my feet into black heels, I walk back to the kitchen and sit on the barstool at the end of the counter to wait.
I hear you before I see you, and I watch the stairs expectantly. First, your stocking-clad legs come into view. I know how you love the feeling of nylon covering your legs. The stockings end at mid-thigh, and a narrow band of hair-covered leg is exposed below the short skirt you're wearing. I love the way your hard cock lifts the front of the skirt, poking out in front of you, swaying with each step you take. As you descend further, I see the sheer blouse and underneath it, the lacy bra. You walk toward me, eyes on the floor, and stop when you are in front of me.