Following directions

I opened the door and found him just the way I requested: naked, hard, waiting. I gave an uncustomary squeal of delight. I love to be obeyed.

I crawled on top of him, kissing his neck, cheeks, eyes and finally his mouth. His hands were on me instantly, sliding up my shirt, giving my nipple that eye-watering twist I love so much.

I dropped to my knees and stroked his cock with my tongue, lapping at it. He still tasted of me, from our last fucking at lunch. I sucked him clean. But when he started to pant, I stopped and ordered him to the bed.

I stripped as he climbed in, his sweet ass taunting me, begging to be slapped. I was forced to oblige. I relish the sight of a red hand print on a round cheek. His big brown eyes opened wider, flashed some dimples and pulled me onto him.

To say we fuck hard would be mild. The half-moons from my nails were livid on his sides, the force of me pulling him in deeper. My instructions were issued sharp, one-word: behind, harder, hurt me, down, there! He is an excellent listener.

Forty minutes later, sweaty and heaving, he came with a groan whispering my name in my hair.