I finished drying my long, red hair and turned away from my naked reflection in the full length mirror.
Tonight, my lover would finally be arriving home. Before he'd left for his business trip, I'd told him I wanted him to be a bit more dominant in the bedroom. Nothing extreme, just taking the lead, giving orders. He told me he'd think about it, then had sent me a short text this morning. It had directions to greet him in a dress and no underwear. Aiden was rarely so brusque, but I was craving him, and the simple yet stern order had kept my pussy wet all day.
I was aching to be filled by him. If he didn't arrive soon, I'd have to start without him.
Glancing anxiously at the clock, I pulled an extremely thin, mint green dress over my naked body. The skirt landed just above my knees, and the silken material of the deep v-neck barely covered my nipples. Staring at myself in the mirror, I brushed my hands gently over my tits, causing my nipples to perk up a bit. I could see everything through this material.
Aiden would not be able to resist me.
I walked down the stairs to the kitchen, and put on a pot of water to boil. I stood there, day dreaming of being reunited once more with Aiden, in the way I never knew I craved until he showed me. Standing there over the steaming water, I felt my wetness begin to trickle down my leg. Before I could reach for a towel, I noticed that the water was boiling. I sighed and poured in some pasta, then grabbed a spoon and stirred.
As the pasta began to soften, the noise as I stirred brought me into more daydreams of Aiden. I sighed wistfully, and turned off the heat on the stove and carried the pot to the sink and drained the now fully cooked pasta. As I was placing the empty pot on a back burner, I heard a key turn in the lock behind me. I froze and felt my body tense up in anticipation. The door to the kitchen opened and I felt the cool winter air blow into the room, causing a rush of goosebumps on my skin and the instant hardening of my barely-covered nipples.
I heard the door shut and the sound of Aiden sliding off his boots. The silence was thick and charged with sexual tension already.
"Hello, Noelle," he said in his soothing voice that I'd missed so much.
I whirled to see Aiden standing in his socks on the rug. He was holding his winter jacket in his hands and wearing a white oxford shirt tucked into dark slacks, with a blue necktie laying crookedly on his broad chest. His brown hair was windblown, and he hadn't shaved in several days.