Wednesday, September 2, 2009
Fresh out of the shower, I stood in front of the mirror in my white terry bathrobe. I let the robe fall open and looked at my damp skin underneath. A half-smile formed on my lips as I noticed that the scar from my surgery was healing very well. My stomach was taught, flat and finally the way I've wanted it to look for a very long time.
He walked in naked, his hair still disheveled from a good night's sleep. Standing behind me, he kissed my cheek and wrapped his arms around my waist. He rested his head on my shoulder and whispered a sleepy 'good morning lover' in my ear.
I liked looking at us in the mirror. I look so small wrapped up in his giant arms.
Turning me around, he kissed my forehead, cheek and mouth. His fingers grazed my skin as he gently pushed the robe from my body, letting it fall to the floor. He licked the droplets of water from my neck, shoulder, chest...
What is it about being kissed on the shoulder that feels at once respectful and charming but seductive all the same?
He aggressively gathered my breasts in his hands while looking deep into my eyes. I heard a loud breath escape his lips as his mouth covered my pert nipple.
My half-smile crept into a full grin while watching him savor my breast. I was panting and the moisture was building between my legs.
Then he lowered himself to his hands and knees in front of me.
In my craziest fantasies, I have wondered what it would have been like to be Catherine the Great. She apparently had many subservient lovers in her lifetime and would promote them to her court when she was ready to move on. Subservient, huh? Hmmm....
Here was this statuesque gift of a man knelt before me. His eyes looking up at me filled me with absolute lust. I stood in front of him, eyes wide in awe, and I felt like a queen. I felt beautiful. I felt powerful.
I felt breathless as he leaned his face closer to me and weakened me with one swift lick.
I could barely remain standing as his tongue widened to cover my flesh. My knees began to shake as he discovered the one throbbing point that would make me moan out loud.
I didn't want to close my eyes. My breath was quickening and I leaned back further on the bathroom counter. Still my eyes were locked with his. I stayed focused on how he was pleasuring me and the more I watched, the more it turned me on.
What was it that was so unique about this moment? Was it because of the new landscape of my mid-section? I couldn't help but center in on his determination to conquer me.
Though he was on all fours, I was the subservient one. I was the weak one. I was the one who was losing control.
I was the servant to his glorious talent. I was the slave to that moment.
I was the one who was struggling, gripping, clinging and melting helplessly as he worshiped my body.
Though he was on his hands and knees before me, I was the one who was left in a state of reverence... and absolute admiration.
Lovely kneeling man taken from here