At last, I see them leaving the house; she is now alone and no doubt, logging into the computer and; expecting to see me there for our regular chats. Looking around I could see that I am totally free to enter, nobody showing any interest in a delivery guy, I mean, who cares? I go around to the back door and finding it unlocked, I quickly slip inside and make no noise that should alert her to an unexpected visitor.
She was just kneeling on the bed, her eyes obscured by the cloth I'd tied there. I could tell she was nervous, she said she wanted to try something different and kinky; something more exciting. In recent months our love-making had become a little monotonous, we both thought it but she was the first to say it.
After twenty plus years of marriage to my high school sweetheart, our marriage had become as dull as yesterday's news, maybe last month's news. And that's probably an understatement. We both had become so complacent in our marriage to each other, that we both were clearly unhappy with our lives.
This story was from a dark corner of my mind that DreamWeaverAz helped me write. I am not that good at reacting as a Dominant would. This is a story warning the wanna-bes out there. A true Master goes beyond the kink.
"Three fingers, teasing softly, not entering but lingering, the middle finger pushing lightly wanting to enter, mmm how wet you are."
Blessed be Akana, she whose name is Beautiful Cruelty, Terrible Pleasure, Sublime Pain.
Edriel was so thoroughly absorbed in the pornographic scroll that he didn't notice the high priestess until she planted her foot squarely in the middle of a particularly delectable picture.
"Oh, Mistress Sekba!" He snapped his head up at her, blushing as he stared past the red linen loincloth and up to the firm, small breasts, bound perfunctorily with a strip of black silk.
Few things are as beautiful as the sight of you lying there on the bed, all naked, waiting for me . . . it is so exciting. I carress your body while you let your hand run up and down my hard penis, preparing it for your wet mound. . . . I give you a warm kiss, and let my erection touch your thigh . . . will you open your thighs for me, allow me in? I know you will, I think you want it as much as I do. Yes. . . .
She reaches up & turns the radio a little bit louder. Dipping her hands back into the soapy water she goes back to washing the dishes. Her body sways as she dances & sings along with the music. He stops in the doorway, silently watching her as she moves. Looking her over he smiles, completely nude save the silver collar around her neck & the leather ankle cuffs. She has grown accustomed to being naked, even come to like it.
The identity of the man who purchased the mansion on the hill that rose above any landmarks for a mile around was a mystery to every resident of Langley Street, the street that led motorists and pedestrians alike to the private estate and the foot of its sweeping front drive. As much as rumor could provide, the new owner was a young man in his early twenties, obviously a man who had recently come into good fortune, either by his own merit or by luck.
The night was your friend. It was always important to remember that. The night was your friend because in it you were dominant. In it you had the control, the power and the mastery. The night was your friend because you made it the enemy of those who deserved to be your enemy.
It was a mantra that The Wight repeated to herself regularly, and not least before starting a patrol.
Stanley Montrieth III rushed into my office, "Oh my God, I did it. I actually did it. I shagged all these beauties in a pool on my own desert island!"
His curly, ginger hair was more unruly than usual and his face was flushed with excitement and exhilaration.
I knew, he'd been working on something exciting and it looked like he was ready to tell me at long last.