Stickiness engulfed her and she swore she'd have to take a personal day just to get the car's air conditioning worked on. She sat up and shed the jeans leaving them lying on the floor. Royal blue panties were her only garment. And there it was. A note on the mirror.
Pink panties tonight. No shower. Be ready.
Shit. Damon wanted her. Just like she was. He had stopped by and scrawled a note on the mirror to tell her what she was going to wear. That was their agreement. It came with his territory as the Dom, or as he put it, his "responsibility."
He got to tell her what to wear or what not to wear. And no shower. He was hungry all right. Damned hungry for her natural taste. That's how he liked her. Hot and sticky so he could lick the salt from her neck and shoulders, along her tits and between her legs.
At the beach he had her behind the restrooms after a day in the blazing sun and ran a hand under her sundress after she had removed her bikini bottoms. Another time he had gone running with her and had her strip in the house and lay on the carpeting with her legs spread. He loved her taste, probing her deeply with his tongue, licking and tasting her flesh and inhaling her scent.
His sign indicated that he was hungry for her taste tonight. Sweat and all.
She removed her panties, lowering the waist band over her full hips and down her thighs. Her brown hair swayed just like her tits. Oh, man, she wanted a cool shower. The lukewarm kind perfect on a hot day. But if she did then he could tell her and he'd take her over his lap and lay into her ass until it was hot and pink and perhaps harder until it was hot and red.
She reached in her drawer and pulled out her pink panties and smiled. Perhaps he'd do it anyway. She slid them up her legs and snapped a bra to hold her breasts in place. No harm in admiring the cleavage. Damon sure did. Time to make dinner and wait. Six-thirty. He'd probably walk in the door soon. Thoughts of him walking in, kicking off his shoes, and leaning back at the table while she walked around with a sheen of dried perspiration and in her underwear, serving him dinner caused a flutter of arousal.
Damn. Hopefully he wouldn't make her beg for a shower once they were done. That's what she both loved and disliked about Damon. He had a way of pushing her limits and making her feel both aroused and uncomfortable.
She had been in the kitchen no more than a few minutes when the front door opened and Damon's heavy footsteps traveled across the entryway and his frame filled the door.
Jennie was surprised. He was home earlier than normal. His breathing was heavy and his eyes scanned her and penetrated her being.
He leaned against the frame with his left shoulder and uttered one word. "Kneel."
The directive swirled in her thoughts and the pulsating sensation she knew so well began to throb in her pussy. On her knees, his zipper and the bulge in his jeans was eye level. He was hot. He, too, would be sweaty around his cock and balls. She licked her lips at the thought of the warm, salty taste.
To Be Continued
ddsymms.wordpress.com
This site is where I put up stories that come to mind that don't fit elsewhere in my writings.
No comments:
Post a Comment