At 2.30, I will parade around the house in my skirt and heels, my nipples popping through my baby doll T. By 2.45, I’ll get into position as instructed, bent over the kitchen table, my hands and elbows pressed against the wood, my ass in the air, just barely covered by my skirt and panties. By 3.00, I’ll still be in position, anticipating your arrival with tingling nipples and tingling cunt. At 3.15, I’ll notice the cramp in my right calf, the way that my hands are sweaty on the wood, the fact that the crevice of my underwear is soaked and sticking to my newly shaved skin. By 3.30, when you still aren’t home, I’ll convince myself I can’t stand it any longer, that you’re not coming, that I’m going to go back and put on sweats just to spite you. I’ll consider masturbating, just to relieve the ache that’s building up inside me.
Walk in the door at four o’clock, just as I’m about to give up, just as the heat in my panties has grown cold, just as I don’t think I can stand it any longer. Step up behind me. When I turn my head to look at you over my shoulder, when I open my mouth to say something nasty about the fact that you’re late, say, “Face forward.” Say, “Don’t speak.”
Correct my position without saying a word. Straighten my hands on the wood and make sure my head is down on the table, then push my feet farther apart with your leg. Do it roughly. Flip the short skirt up over my ass, then rub your hands across the panties. Find the wet spot and dig your finger in, tease it there until I lift my ass higher in the air, already begging for it, moaning into the table.
Tell me to be quiet. Tell me that I am not allowed to make a sound until you say so. Stand to the left of me, and reach under my T-shirt and tweak my nipples, first one, then the other. With your other hand, return to rubbing the wet spot in my panties. Realise I am panting and pushing my ass toward your hand, trying to catch as much of your flesh as possible against my skin. Say, “Don’t move.” Then flick my clit through the material until I am bucking and bucking, unable to keep still.
Let your hand swat my butt cheek, just once, a swift stroke that catches the fleshy part of my ass and makes my head spin. When I cry out, do it again, and again. Threaten to tear off my panties and spank me naked. Tell me what a bad girl I am for wanting it so much. Wait until I’m panting, begging, sticking my ass toward you again and again, wait until I’m so wet I’m dripping into your hand, and then back off.
Make yourself a cup of coffee. Stand back and stare at my ass – positioned like two half-peaches in the air, barely covered by my dripping wet panties, just waiting for you. Sip your coffee while you ease the white fabric down over the cheeks of my ass without touching my skin.
Get undressed.
Do it slowly, so I can hear every button, every zipper, every slide of fabric over your skin. Press your skin against mine, hold my cheeks in your hand, first one then the other. Feel their juice, their heft. Moan. Tease my bare slit with your fingers. Keep doing it until I beg. Enter me with your fingers, first one, then two, three. Slide them inside me over and over until I’m fucking your hand, legs spread wide before you, my grunts and moans covering the sound of you fucking me.
This is your cue – slap the fleshy part of my ass with your palm.
Alternate. Repeat.
See the blush growing across my cheeks? This same redness is on my face too – excitement, shame, joy.