I wait on the bed for you while you finish your shower. The sound of the water running is soothing but then it stops and I know you will be walking into the room any minute. I can hear the familiar noises of you in the bathroom as you brush your teeth, the opening and closing of the cabinet as you complete your daily washroom routines.

My flesh is warm and soft, a slight dampness from the shower still clings to my skin. My cunt is freshly shaved. My body is freshly clean, rinsed of all traces of you, I feel too naked.

You walk into the room. No one says anything. I don’t tell you what I want and you don’t comment on what you see. I clutch my phone, scrolling, reading, or so it would seem but actually I am waiting, wanting, hoping that I am temptation enough.

Drawers open and close, I feel the bed sink slightly as you sit on the edge. I want to turn and look at you but I resist the urge. I remain lost on my own activity. Or so I would have it seem. The bed shifts again as you stand and I have the distinct feeling you are watching me. I splay my legs a fraction wider, just in case you are watching, just in case you can’t quite see me. I listen; the purr of the boiler up in the loft fills the silence but there is something else, the slightest smallest of sounds created by movement, your movement. I smile into my phone the urge to turn and look even stronger now. I love watching your hand on your cock and I am sure that is exactly what you are doing but if I look I might spoil the moment but if I don’t look I will miss it. The thought of you maybe, possible, hopefully watching me laying here and stroking your cock makes my cunt wet. I can feel the little bloom of heat deepening between my thighs.

I close my eyes and think about how you must look.

This time when the bed shifts it is accompanied by the feel of your knees between my thigh and your hands encircling my ankles. You pull my legs open and then reaching down you grip my hip pulling me up and backwards. Between our bodies your other hand parts the folds of my cunt and you guide your cock into me. I push down onto my knees, rising up to meet you, trying to open myself to you as much I can. You fall forward, your body pressing me back down into the bed, one hand now sliding around my neck, taking hold, claiming, tightening.

You fuck your cock slowly into me, a short rocking motion which thrust me forward into the hand around my neck. I locked beneath you and between you, your cock in my cunt your hand on my throat.

“I should have beaten you first” You growl into my ear

“Wanton little sluts who spread their legs to tempt men deserve to be beaten, don’t you agree?”

I nod my head

“Use your words, bitch”

“Yes Sir” I reply, the hand around my neck makes my voice strained and husky.

“Although maybe it was a beating your were looking for and not a fucking, but sluts who don’t state what they really want have to put up with what they are given”

You are pushing into me harder and faster now. You release my neck and brace yourself on your arms either side of my body. I grip the covers, pushing back into you, wanting as much of you as I can get. I can feel my juices running down my cunt and across my clit which is throbbing, aching to be touched. I go to try to slide one of my hands beneath me to find that quivering knot of flesh

“Nooooo slut” you hiss

A growl of frustration rumbles in my throat as you continue to fuck yourself into me over and over again in a quest for your own pleasure.

When you finally come you make that noise, a mixture of a growl and a groan that I love so very much. It is uniquely you.

Slipping out of me you stand up and immediately reach for your clothes that you have laid out neatly on the edge of the bed. I roll over and watch you get dressed, my hand now firmly buried between my thighs.

“I should have beaten you” you say as you head towards the door “and I will, later, and maybe then I will let you come but now, get your hand out of you cunt, and get dressed” and you leave the room.

I continue to lay on the bed, drawing lazy sticky finger trails over my tits, as you reach the bottom of the stairs you call back up to me

“Now!” in a tone that leaves no uncertainty about what is the right course of action.

I put on clean clothes, I am freshly showered, my hair smells of shampoo, my armpits of deodorant, my cunt of you. I am perfectly dressed for the day ahead.

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