This last few weeks, I have been, once again, counting the days between body waxing appointments - 4 weeks, 3 weeks, 2 weeks, a week, 7 days, down to 24 hours than counting the hours down too.
However, a recent appointment was necessarily cancelled due to personal reasons for my mentor and it was suggested in the cancellation text message that I could be as much as four weeks away from my next.
Accepting and empathising with the reason for this, I was also frustrated for myself, but also resigned to watching as my body was once more enveloped in hair growth, time being left for it to run wild again given the lack of appointment time to remove and deter it.
[For those wondering why I don't just shave it off in such a situation, I should add that I have been going for regular body waxing appointments for around 10 years now. I know on good authority that shaving encourages growth whereas waxing slowly discourages it.]
However, just over a week later, I was surprised to receive a text which invited me to go in the following day.
His circumstances had not changed, but arrangements had been made for Him to be able to resume work. I was jubilant. The countdown clock in my head was reset and the anticipation began.
Again, the hours were watched by, finding things to distract me.
I set off early to anticipate the traffic into the centre, but I had not set off early enough, distracted by my kink social media chats.
Everything seemed to be against me -- there was traffic queuing everywhere, and when it wasn't queuing, there was lots of it.
When I got to the car park, unusually, I queued to get in there too, and whilst I was frustrated, I still knew I had time to get to the appointment and on-time, although I DO like to be early if I can, for His business reasons as well as my personal ones, particularly if He is ready for me.
On arrival, I was ushered into the treatment room, snug and warm from the corner heater, which seemed to encourage and speed up my urge to get naked for Him.
For a brief moment, I looked at my submissive naked body -- something I had seen a lot of in the days previous -- in the full length mirror I rarely got to look in whilst being waxed or serving cock presented to me.
Anticipating His imminent arrival into the room, I turned to face the door, put my hands behind my back and bowed my head and kept in that position as he came in, to ensure he was aware just how submissive I was in that moment.
"We ought to get some waxing done first," he said determinedly.
With me standing there naked and submissive, He began assessing the extent of hair growth on my body but ultimately couldn't resist and the touches quickly became more overtly sexual and sensual, sweeping around my body, chest, nipples, bum, between my legs and, with Him fully clothed, and me, of course, totally naked, He moved in behind me and pushed His crotch firmly into my bum crack.
Moments later, he had spun me around and pulled me in close -- at some point, he had dropped his trousers and had got his thick and hardened cock out.
I instinctively wrapped my arms around His body as the embrace became deeper.
Now increasingly lovers as well as sex partners, we kissed deeply as we would do occasionally throughout the unfolding minutes ahead of us, him ultimately wanting to taste himself on my tongue and in my mouth when demanded.
I used to internally object to kissing, almost an attempt to deny my bisexual tendencies in a remote part of my brain, but with those tendencies having been continually developed, I now fully embrace the affection felt for me and engage with it.
Our tongues entwined and our heads moved side to side as the passionate kiss continued.
At this point, heavily breathing, I firstly confessed that I had spent most of the preceding week, naked in what seemed to be the acceleration of a female-led relationship with my otherwise unknowing significant other.
He seemed to gasp at the sudden admission from His sub.
Even before the appointment, knowing I wanted to, and that we would have to and should discuss his personal issues at some point, I moved on to my second point, that of my last group session, specifically, how I was spit-roasted but had not quite been properly fucked, as they had struggled to get inside me and then stay hard.
I suggested to him that I had perhaps not been sufficiently lubed up with either the creams available in the room or, more specifically, some lube. I declared, sexually fuelled and horny to be used, that I now desperately needed to be fucked, and, more specifically, was yearning to be bred.
He said that he would have to get the cock back in again for my next appointment to try again.
"Please!" I replied insatiably.
I also referenced how one of the cocks had spoken (down) to me for what was my first time, directly as a submissive -- this after they had asked my mentor if I would suck their balls.
I reminded my Mentor/Dom how, last time, He had replied: "He will do whatever you want him to do!"
He murmured by way of acknowledgement, attentively listening as his sub opened up so much more sexually further before him.
In making that noise, he seemed to acknowledge that I was more of a submissive that he had first thought but said that the individual seemed to know what they were doing, as if they had done it before.