You pause for a moment in the shower, thinking back to the shocked look on his face only minutes earlier, as you uncuffed him and then left him, lying speechless in bed. You smile to yourself, keeping the tease going was clearly having an effect on him, judging by the fact that he tried to follow you into the bathroom while you got ready. "No no no, I have work and so do YOU," you admonished him as you closed the door despite his protests.
A pity, really, you think to yourself, because the water from the shower is matched by the sense of wetness between your legs. You consider the possibilities as you soap yourself off, but realize that it might not be a bad idea to leave him wanting more on this particular day.
Thoughts of the day distract you as you find yourself absentmindedly drying off your dirty blonde hair and getting dressed for the day. A red bra pushes your already ample cleavage up further on your chest, and you agonize over clothing options, finally deciding on a cream-colored blouse that allows for one-too-many buttons to be undone, and the obvious hint of the dark colored bra underneath.
To complete the effect that you want to provide, you find yourself putting a bit of extra attention on your makeup that morning. While on a regular day a scant bit of Sephora products might find their way into action, today is a bit more dramatic. Not fully, "night out on the town"-level of glamour, but with your smoky eyes, accentuated cheekbones, and lips now painted a dark crimson, you knew that you were certainly going to get even more than your usual fair share of attention and looks today, not the least of which would come from the man whom you could now hear pacing the floor as he waited for your appearance.
You grin, knowing exactly the effect it would have on him, both below the belt and in-between his ears, which is precisely what you wanted. And knowing full well that he would be pacing even more waiting at home that evening, wondering if -- when - you would be returning. A tease? Perhaps. A dab of perfume completed the effect, and you found yourself pulling up a skirt that was too short by just the slimmest of margins...above the knee, mid-thigh. You could already imagine the hearts that would be racing from your fashion choices today. Certainly more than one.
You exit the bathroom, and begin a slow walk to the front door, bag already in hand. Your intention is to make an exit, and perhaps a bit of a scene. You spy him out of the corner of your eye, in the living room, a cup of iced black coffee at his lips. He almost spits it out when he sees you, his eyes growing wide.
You saunter over to him. "Bye, lover," you say in your lowest, throatiest voice. "Don't wait up for me, okay?" You lean in, and give him a long kiss on the cheek. Some lipstick might be sacrificed, but it was worth it. As you pull away, feeling him breathe in your perfume, you smile sweetly at him. "It might be a late night, hard to say." You give him a full-on grin, and turn towards the door. The mixture of fascination and alarm painted on his face, while expected, reaffirms what you already know -- you look amazing, and up for just about anything.
As you reach for the doorknob, you feel his presence behind you. Before you can open it, you find yourself pushed, not altogether gently, up against the door. His hands are on your upper arms, holding you in place, and you let out a gasp as his full weight pushes into you, sandwiching you between him and the door. Sometimes you forget his size, but here he reminds you, physically. One hand reaches for the bag on your shoulder, and it is pulled off you, and drops to the floor.
"I don't think you should leave just yet," you hear his voice in your ear. His tone is straining to be playful, but there is an underlying tone of seriousness as well. You smile, your forehead pressed against the door...this was not unexpected, of course, but you don't have time to let him be handsy, and what you know he wants, he simply won't be getting at this time.
