Saturday mornings are nice. You don’t have to jump out of bed and start the day. I’m also relishing that August has arrived after a very hectic July, and I’m looking forward to life calming down a bit.
I hug my pillow while laying on my side. I imagine I’m laying in Master’s arms. I notice my breath and take long, slow inhales and exhales. I had many little reminders this week of how I am His, and I smile as I remember each one of them. Sometimes I feel antsy when I’m having these wonderful feelings and he’s not right here, right now to share them with me. But this morning I breathe and let myself sink into the Truth: I’m His.
I roll onto my back and open my legs. The cool air highlights the dampness between them. Thinking of Him keeps me at least on simmer and in a steady state of wetness. The air carries a whiff of my pussy. I love the smell of sex! I especially love the way I smell after he’s fucked me, and our bodily fluids and scents are mingled together. I caress my thighs and imagine Him looking at my pussy. I like being under His watchful eye.
I gently pull on my nipple ring and chuckle to myself remembering how he commented this week that he didn’t realize he was getting me a new toy when he purchased these circular barbells back in February.
I run my fingers ever so lightly over the delicate skin of my breast. My nipple hardens. I keep it aroused tracing soft circles around it. I think about masturbating but I imagine Him telling me, “No…wait.” The thought ripples with a surge of pleasure through my body straight down to my pussy. I stretch my whole body trying to disperse the excitement. I don’t touch my clit, but I know it’s hard. I rock my hips back and forth slowly and rhythmically. I feel the primal, deep need to be fucked rising inside me. I stretch again, not wanting to give in…not yet.
I spread my legs wider. Open. Waiting. Ready.