tmmmbrrr
Literotica Guru
- Joined
- Jun 27, 2010
- Posts
- 3,481
T G I F
The following is an initial post for a SRP which I anticipate may have a writing life of 50 – 75 posts. If you have an interest in writing the female part, please send me an IM OR JUST START WRITING. I’m not committed to any specific outcome of the story and would just like to have some fun writing with an imaginative, naughty and upbeat person. Thanks.
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Turning into the driveway, my stomach is churning with butterflies. I want to be home, I want you to be there too, I’m just not sure what is going to happen.
You’re the boss.
We made a special date for tonight and you’re the boss. Boss - queen - dictator - mistress - royal bitch - goddess - it doesn't really matter because by walking through the door in a few seconds I'll be agreeing in advance to everything you say, order and command without hesitation or reservation.
Some date.
No wonder I have butterflies.
My car pulls up in the usual place and I shift into Park. My breathing is shallow and rapid - I know could slip into hyperventilation… I try to breath slow and deep. In a few tries, it seems to work.
We had a date like this once before. You, my darling, are superb when it comes to being demanding and ruthlessly businesslike and I have willingly been ordered to my knees by you in private a few times since and also once in front of friends once who came over for dinner and cards.
We played a new game that night. Very exciting.
My mind is on that time as I walk up the steps to our front door. It was exciting, fun, -- new. As I did as I was told, I got an erection that there was just no way to hide. Now at our front door, even though my butterflies are going wild, I realize that particular memory is having the same effect. I open the door and step into our living room. My cock is pressing hard against the zipper of my slacks. I don’t see the point of trying to hide it - we're having a date, come what may.... As I hang my jacket in the front closet, I hear bare footsteps softly coming my way across the stone floor in the dining room and know our date is about to begin.
Your hair is up. Your lips and nails are dark red. You’re dressed in one of my white shirts over black push-up bra and panties. The shirt is big on you and you haven’t bothered to button it.
Even though I know better than to stare at you, I do.
The following is an initial post for a SRP which I anticipate may have a writing life of 50 – 75 posts. If you have an interest in writing the female part, please send me an IM OR JUST START WRITING. I’m not committed to any specific outcome of the story and would just like to have some fun writing with an imaginative, naughty and upbeat person. Thanks.
---
Turning into the driveway, my stomach is churning with butterflies. I want to be home, I want you to be there too, I’m just not sure what is going to happen.
You’re the boss.
We made a special date for tonight and you’re the boss. Boss - queen - dictator - mistress - royal bitch - goddess - it doesn't really matter because by walking through the door in a few seconds I'll be agreeing in advance to everything you say, order and command without hesitation or reservation.
Some date.
No wonder I have butterflies.
My car pulls up in the usual place and I shift into Park. My breathing is shallow and rapid - I know could slip into hyperventilation… I try to breath slow and deep. In a few tries, it seems to work.
We had a date like this once before. You, my darling, are superb when it comes to being demanding and ruthlessly businesslike and I have willingly been ordered to my knees by you in private a few times since and also once in front of friends once who came over for dinner and cards.
We played a new game that night. Very exciting.
My mind is on that time as I walk up the steps to our front door. It was exciting, fun, -- new. As I did as I was told, I got an erection that there was just no way to hide. Now at our front door, even though my butterflies are going wild, I realize that particular memory is having the same effect. I open the door and step into our living room. My cock is pressing hard against the zipper of my slacks. I don’t see the point of trying to hide it - we're having a date, come what may.... As I hang my jacket in the front closet, I hear bare footsteps softly coming my way across the stone floor in the dining room and know our date is about to begin.
Your hair is up. Your lips and nails are dark red. You’re dressed in one of my white shirts over black push-up bra and panties. The shirt is big on you and you haven’t bothered to button it.
Even though I know better than to stare at you, I do.
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