He'd dared her, and he shouldn't have.
For months they'd chatted, trading stories and making each other hot and bothered (and much more) dozens of times. Finally, one afternoon, Dee had opened her mail to find a message from Jas. Expecting an opening gambit for that night's chat session, she'd instead read:
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I'm sitting in the black leather chair as usual. The leather cool against my thighs. I'm dressed in a very short black skirt, a skintight low necked black top, black fishnet stockings and the main event: my six inch black shiny stiletto heeled shoes. I cross my legs and swing my foot impatiently, acutely conscious of the light reflecting off my shoe as it makes its arc through the air.
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As I get closer to the door, I can see there is a note attached to the front door. As I get close enough to read it, I see that she is awaiting my arrival. Out of politeness, I knock on the door and wait a moment. Then the door opens. It is Robert. He is partially dressed in a tuxedo and it appears he is getting ready for an evening out. I say good evening to him.
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Rob entered the bar apprehensively. It was warm and lively. He had never done anything like this before. What was he thinking? He had a very strong urge to return to his room for a quiet evening of reading. But he promised and a promise is a promise. Although he could just tell ... NO! That would not be right.
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Gaven waltzed through the room secure in his roman gladiator costume. Standing at a powerfully built 6'2", he commanded the attention of every lady in the room as well as over half the men, but each time he met another Dom's gaze, he lowered his eyes as expected of a Sub.
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She was feeling a little nervous as she arrived. Mistress Heather, as she was known in the D/s community, was still a rather young girl of 23. She had been a practicing Domme for a little over 3 years, however most of those experiences were in the confines of a few of her college relationships. It had only been for the last 9 months that the blond haired Domme had sought more professional experiences with true sub girls.
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Asleep, comfortable at night, you lay snoring soundly. Your wife in deep slumber beside you, you feel something tug at your arm. A soft seductive voice calls your name. You stir gently, the voice beckoning, purring your name. You feel a hand searching under the blankets finding your leg she drags her nails up your thigh. You awaken fully to the realization that it is not your wife searching for you, but Vix. You open your eyes fully to find a dark figure kneeling beside the bed.
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She thought I had forgotten. It's pretty impossible; it's two weeks after mine exactly. Her temper tantrums as of lately have been cute. It'll make tonight so much more fun.
I haven't said anything about her birthday and it's cute that she's stressing about it. Not to toot my own horn or anything but, I'm the best girlfriend ever.
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"I don't understand what she sees in him," said Michael, already feeling depressed at the thought of spending an evening with his arch nemesis, Nick.
"I know Michael. But... she's been my best friend forever and as long as she's happy, then... what can we do?"
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I'm on my knees, staring up at a beautifully round, fleshy, tanned ass. It's spherical shape so perfect, and because the woman who belonged to it was bending slightly forward and bending at the knees as if she's about to sit down directly onto my open mouth I was infatuated and driven to fanatical heights thinking about it, looking at it, admiring it...it belongs to my mistress after all.
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