There was no pillow talk. I hated pillow talk but Master wasn’t brisk to pander to my wants. He just didn’t feel the need to gain my approval of him. He’d used me for his sexual needs and now he had a new need for ME to pander to. I was to wash him. He turned on the hot water and waited for me to finish squirting his goo out of my butt. I joined him and soaped up his back and washed him down. He alternated between caressing my body like a lover and slapping me like he hated me. The whole experience from knowing I was to be taken to feeling his hands on me in the shower was the most exciting sex I think I’ve ever had.I loved it but I didn’t want to say so. Part of me wanted to swoon but only a tiny part. He was treating me roughly just like Master had said he would in those late-night conversations on the Internet. I should have hated being treated like a fuck toy and another small part of me really resented his treatment of me. The biggest part of me, the part of me that knew I needed. I will suck your panty-covered lips into my mouth, biting ever so gently, until you are demanding, begging, pleading with me to remove them and let you come. The taste of you, the warmth emanating from you, the need you feel for sweet release, are beginning to overwhelm me. Though I wanted to tease you for as long as I possibly could, at some point I’ll no longer stand being separated from you by even just the thin material of your underwear. Sitting up, I’ll grasp at your hips and slide my hands down your legs, dragging your panties away from your wet folds and tossing them to the side. You are so incredibly sexy as you lewdly spread your legs wide and bite your lower lip, one hand on your breasts, the other clenching the sheet in your fist. Your eyes are pleading with me, your head thrust back against the pillow in sweet frustration. I can’t help but smile as I’ll reposition myself before you, prepared to worship at the altar of your engorged pussy. Yet I’ll still be determined to.
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