The next time

OMG. My whole body’s tingling. I went into a stall and leaned against the wall, unzipping my jeans and letting them drop along with my panties. I dipped one finger, two fingers inside. Warm, silky, wet. I began to touch myself, light and quick. I shut my eyes and imagined you. Monday. I walk into the room, and you’re there, naked, splendid. You press me against the wall, your lips on my neck, and begin removing my clothes. I join in and you slap my hands away. You want to peel them off of me.

I grasp your strong shoulders, feel your lips trailing down to my breast, and notice the cool air on my nude body. You suck gently on my nipple and I shiver. Bending, you press one shoulder into the spot my thighs meet, and lift me over your shoulder, swat my rear end when I giggle, and stride to the bed. You toss me on my back, and leap on me.

You begin to kiss my lips, lightly running your tongue across them and deepening it when you hear my sigh. When my hands reach down to grasp you, you pull them away with a look. “Wait until your turn.”

Moving to the juncture of my thighs, you lift my legs over your shoulder and begin to tease and touch me until I squirm and pant and cry out in ecstasy. Holding me firmly, you continue your assault, as I try to escape and begin to slap your shoulders to make you stop. When my nails start to dig in, you raise stern eyes to me and say softly, deeply, “Take out your claws, little girl, before I decide to slap your cute ass until you cry.”

The threat, the tone, rushes over me, through me, and I relax my hands. Shaking, I whisper, “I don’t think I can take any more.”

Flicking calm eyes over my desperate features, you state firmly, “You can. And you will.” Before lowering your head.

Closing my eyes, I surrender. What else can I do? You have me. You control me. I’m yours.