Goddess 21

"Goddess," the text reads. "I need you."

You're at my door a few moments later. I know what it is you want when you come to me like this.

"On your knees before me," I say, and you fall to the ground. The look in your eyes; it's hungry, it's needy, it makes me feel so powerful. It makes me feel so tender towards you.

I put my finger to your chin and tilt your head up towards me.

"You are my very good boy," I say. A shiver runs through you. Your eyes are wide and trusting.

"Command me," you say. "I am yours." We are still in the entry to my apartment but I know that I could make you come in minutes without moving, right here, if I wanted to.

"Come inside, baby," I say. You stand and I take you by the hand and lead you into the bedroom.

"Take off your shirt," I say. The sight of your naked chest fills my belly with warmth. I want to tease those nipples and trace my tongue along your stomach, following the trail of hair below your waistline. But that's not what you want right now. Right now, you want to serve me.

You stand before me, waiting to be told what to do.

"Take off your pants, my sweet boy," I say. You drop your trousers to the floor and kick them aside. I can see the wet spot on the front of your underwear. Oh, I want to taste that spot on you, want to take the smooth head of your cock in my mouth and suck it while you moan and rock your hips. We will not do this now, either.

"Take off your boxers," I say. You roll the elastic waistband over your hips and over that gorgeous mound of your ass, bending as you pull them to the floor.

"Yes, goddess," you say, watching me as you move.

"Use your hand," I say, "your dominant hand. Start slow."

You take your cock into your hand and start to stroke it slowly, caressing it with your fingertips and running your fingers under your balls. You are already breathing heavily.

I feel the slickness between my own legs as I stand before you. I want to touch myself. I want you to touch me there, to rub my swollen clit while I moan and sigh for you. I will not do this.

"Give me your hand," I say. You reach your hand towards me, palm up. I spit into it, once, twice, and then nod at you. You apply the spit to your cock and keep stroking yourself slowly. You do not look away from my eyes.

"You are being such a good, good boy for your goddess," I say. My nipples are stiff and sensitive under my top. Sometimes I ask you to kneel before me and suck them, as though you were drinking the milk of life from my heavenly body, and you suck greedily while you stroke your stiff cock. Today, you need something else.

I can see that you want to speed up, that it is taking every bit of control for you to go slowly.

"You may speed up now. To a 4," I tell you. You whimper as your hand moves faster.

"Tell me," I say. "Tell your goddess how you feel."

"Oh fuck," you say in a breathy tone. "It feels so good. So good, my beautiful one."

A surge of desire runs up my back. I am your beautiful one. You are my good boy, my sweet boy, my best boy. I reward you with a smile.

"Faster, baby. To a 6 now. Grip your beautiful cock a little harder too."

You moan quietly now and I feel my labia swelling. I press my thighs together and tighten my core.

"Faster. Now to an 8," I say, and your hand is moving up and down your shaft so quickly, up over your swollen head. You are starting to have trouble keeping your eyes open and on mine and I want to caress your cheek, tell you that it's okay and to let go.

Instead, I say "Stop." You obey, instantly, and drop your hands to your sides. You are panting, sweating, luminous. I know what you like.

"My sweet boy, you are perfectly following instructions for your goddess," I say. Your body tenses and you stand up straighter with pride and need. Your cock is dripping, twitching, delicious. I stand tall and still before you. A statue. Your goddess.

It is so quiet in this room. The bed is behind me and any other day, we might tumble into it, naked and needy for each other, laughing and teasing and gentle, or rough, as we wanted.

"Are you ready?" I ask you.

"You command, goddess," you reply. Your body is humming, ready to move. Your restraint lies in the taut muscles of your cheeks, in the attention on your face, the openness, the stillness of waiting. My pussy aches for you.

"You may begin again," I say. I know it won't take long now. I could edge you repeatedly, but I want your cum. I want to watch it spurt from you, to cascade over your hands and down your shaft and to drip from your scrotum onto your legs. I want to kneel before you and lick every drop.

"Faster now, my baby. Start at 8 and we will move you to 10."

Your hand flies now. Your knees are unsteady and you widen your stance. Your eyes stay on mine. Your mouth drops open as you pant.

"Moan for me, my good boy. I want to hear you," I say. Immediately, you moan, long and loud, and it is the most pleasing sound to my ears. I feel the swell of need in my own body and wonder if I could come from this alone. I have been close before.

"Now, to 10," I say, and I can tell that you are holding on as tightly as you can, working to keep yourself from coming until I allow it. I let you ride this edge for a moment, watching beads of sweat gather on your forehead, and at the hairy patch on your chest. I want to lick the sweat from you and taste your salty skin.

"Come for me," I tell you. "Come for your goddess," and you roar as you let yourself go. Your knees buckle but you stay standing. The milky white cum erupts from you and sprays me, and the carpet beneath us, and you rush to cover your head to contain the rest.

"Beautiful," I tell you. "That was beautiful."

"It is all for you," you say.

I leave the bedroom and find a towel. I fill a glass of water in the sink. I give the glass to you and wipe your hand with the towel.

"Drink, my sweet one," I say. "You worked so hard for your goddess." I feel tears come to my eyes as I gently wipe your softening cock with the towel. I hear you taking big gulps of water.

"You take care of me," you say, and I smile at you.

"Come close to me," I say, and take you in my arms. I cradle you to me, whispering in your ear.

"You're my good boy, my best boy, my beautiful boy," I say. You make a small noise of pleasure, a hum from your chest. "You deserve to feel good."

We will stand like this for a few moments and then you will dress and leave my apartment. I will feel how wet my underwear has gotten. I will relish the ache and the throbbing.

Sometimes I touch myself after you go, rubbing my clit until I come hard and fast at the memory of you standing before me. Then I'll tell you about it later. Sometimes, I let the desire subside slowly, saving my orgasm for the next time I see you, when you will take charge of my pleasure.

Always, always, the text will come when you get home.

"Thank you, goddess. You know exactly what I need."