I'm on my knee's facing the head of the bed, my hand's are cuffed to the headboard.
My body naked, thigh's spread so that all that I submit to you is open to your possession.
I can't see you, but I can feel your eyes moving over every inch of my exposed body.
I can feel my cunt moistening with anticipation of your touch; I'm finding it hard to keep still for your inspection.
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He sat in front of her in fifth grade, heckled the teacher and got into trouble a lot, but that just made him more attractive in her ten year old eyes. He sometimes walked her home and showed her his action figures. She had very little interest in action figures, but she paid attention because of her interest in him.
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Since I have been with my Master we have explored many limits and why I have them. One activity I have struggled with for a long time is due to past abuse from my ex-husband Dick, anal sex has not been an easy boundary for me to have tested.
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I step into the room, excited, barely able to catch my breath with the anticipation. I stand for a moment in the doorway, both to give to you the chance of taking in my appearance, and so compose myself. I want to present a cool, calm, controlled front, not to betray how excited I am. I am dressed in a leather jacket with leather trousers and tight, thick leather gloves.
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Meg's heart pounded in her chest as she pulled into a parking space in front of the condominium. She was having difficulty believing that she had agreed to this. What in the name of God had her hormones gotten her into this time? Where was her mind when she visited that Internet chat room? It had been hard enough to admit that old desires had begun to surface again but to actively go out and seek someone who could help her fulfill them was madness.
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Ceaselessly, my heel taps frenetically- i'm all nerves. i can't tell if it's the coffee or the lack of release, but i can't sit still. my senses are heightened and everything is painted with a surrealistic tinge. Every part of me is hyper sensitive to the mystery waiting for me up on the twelfth floor- i have the room number, i have the instructions ingrained in my memory. i was nearly shaking with the need to come as he fed them to me last night over the phone.
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I have been home from work barely five minutes when there's a knock at my door.
I open it and smile at the tall, skinny man standing outside my door.
"Natalie." He leans forward and kisses both of my cheeks, his hand caressing the back of my neck.
"Come in," I step back and give him room. "Where are we heading tonight Sammy?" I ask, returning his kisses.
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Her heart started leaping in her chest as she turned into his driveway, the full throaty throb of the Ducati between her legs vibrating rhythmically as she let it roll up the gravel to the front of his house. As she shut the dark black machine down, she heard the sweet silence of her surroundings for the first time and took off her helmet to look around.
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She's got long, straight blond hair that always smells like coconut, a pair of legs that make up two-thirds of her height, and a round, narrow little ass. She also has an insolent, self-satisfied swagger, a pert, better-than-thou smirk, and a fifty-dollar manicure. I've taught a few like her before, and I know the way it goes. She's seen how I look at her. She's slacked off this whole term. I can tell she thinks she can scam an A out of me by shaking her ass.
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Like any other good day, today started out with my wonderful Dom tying me up. Nothing puts me in a better mood than feeling the touch of rope on my skin -- the only thing that centers me more is feeling his hand in my hair as I kneel in front of him.
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