Marcellus Tvaris was a tailor. He was the very best of tailors. He could fit a dinner jacket with such precision, he fit his dresses with such delicacy, that he was able to keep his shop open in a suburb on the west side of Detroit for twenty five years. He had an exacting and accurate eye for detail. He would take notice of the particular way a man's waistline might bulge, of all a client's proportions, of how a man walks in his pants and use this information in his tailoring.
You call me as I sit in traffic and ask me to come over. I am excited at the idea of seeing you, but the traffic is bumper to bumper and my AC is out. I was already frustrated by my predicament and your call hasn't helped settle me. I growl something noncommittal into the phone and feel a pang of regret at the let down sound in your voice when you say ok. I realize you need me there. I smile after a long moment but then grimace again almost as quickly.
She passed Fifth Street and checked her watch, right on schedule and thankfully the crossing light was on her side this morning so she eased across the intersection without having to stop. Music from her IPod spurred her on as she rounded the corner on Jackson Avenue, in the home stretch now. The warm early May morning sun at her back, she could see the entrance to the building at the end of the city block and urged herself to push a little harder.
Jim Walker was heading south in his camper van on a quiet secondary highway in the Central Plateau of New Zealand, passing through thousand of acres of pine forests rearing up green-like sentries on both sides the route, when he spotted two female hitchhikers up ahead, with small packs on their back.
My beloved Mistress R sat naked on the end of the bed, still slightly wet from her shower. Her legs were pressed together, hiding her delicious pussy from view. I was trembling slightly as I looked at her gorgeous, glistening naked breasts which were right in my line of sight as I knelt on the floor, naked except for the cock ring that was making me agonisingly hard. She placed a finger on my chin and lifted my head to look into her eyes. Her voice was calm, but authoritative.
It all started in the summer of 1998, back in Cairns, Australia. Marriage is a fickle thing, and mine had fallen apart over perceived jealousy and the fact that she just wasn't meant for me, or maybe I wasn't meant for her. It didn't really matter any more, she gathered her things on a Saturday morning, called her parents, they came to pick her up, and that was it. I never saw her again, and the only conversations I had were short and angry with her wanting nothing more to do with me.
Rita is a high powered executive with a large company. Through her work she has great responsibility. Recently she realised how stimulating and relaxing it could be if she was controlled. If she was made to do things, she no longer had the burden of responsibility. However giving up control could make her vulnerable. She may have to do things she didn't want to. That, though, was strangely exciting. The first experience for this 45 year old woman, of the thrilling excitement of handing over control had been at a family dinner party.
"I've got an important project for you Rebecca," Mrs. Stone said.
Finally, a real project, Rebecca thought. She had accepted a job as Mrs. Stone's PA after becoming unemployed. The pay was good. The hours were horrible. And Mrs. Stone was very demanding. Most managers didn't expect to work personal assistants like they did in the old day. But, Mrs. Stone did. She wanted coffee.
Slowly opening my eyes I hear the rush of the water from the bathroom. The sprays of water hitting the sides of the shower as you move. Smiling wide, closing my eyes picturing my perfect sexy Master in all his naked glory washing away the left overs of our night together. I moan as I move, the delicious ache between my thighs from your attentions during the night reminding me of every mind-blowing moment with you.
"Ah, the workmen are through for the day," Paige thought as she watched the men loading their pickups and preparing to leave. They were working to create a studio and large bedroom with attached bath out of what had been three small bedrooms upstairs in the big barn of a house she bought for a song because it was so far from town. They had been working for over a week, tearing down walls and running new wires and plumbing for the project.