Waiting

Sitting on the couch, sipping his drink, he stared at the closed door. Behind it she was dressing just for him. She would be in heels, he insisted on heels, and stockings, and a corset he had yet to see, bought for his eyes only.

He had no plans. There was a flow that would reveal itself, but as he waited, he considered the first few minutes.

As she moved through the door he would soak in the sight of her. Her bare chest and shoulders, the corset molding her curves, her stockinged legs sloping down to her ankles, and her feet in those, fuck me now, glossy heels.

Her eyes would be watching for his approval. Would he instruct her to lower them? Perhaps not. Not this night. This night he would allow her to study him, but only for a moment, then he would send her a silent warning; be cheeky at your peril. She would hear him, and then she would blush, and her eyes would drop of their own accord.

He would have her kneel, and as he took another sip of the warm, spicy liquor, a smile curled the ends of his lips. He would swirl it with his finger and present it to her mouth. She would lift her gaze, part her lips, take it in, and gently suck.

Perhaps he would grip her hair and pull back her head to devour her neck. She loved that, his lips biting just below her ear. No, he’d save that for later.

Then it came to him.

He would remove his finger from her mouth, dip it back into his drink, and drop it to the inside of her milky thighs, but then again, if her breasts were exposed, he might prefer to paint her nipples.

He was a patient man, but he was becoming restless. He had given her three minutes, and glancing at his watch he saw she was ten seconds late. Would he slap her gorgeous ass ten times, or twenty, ten on each cheek? Perhaps she deserved the crop. Now it was fifteen seconds. Was she testing him? Bad idea. He stared into his glass. He needed a refill. She would fetch and present it to him, then she would be punished for her tardiness.

A creak made him glance up. The door had opened. He checked his watch. Thirty seconds. Slowly raising his gaze, he felt his pulse tick up.

Let the games begin.

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