I had no specific plans for the evening until I saw your naked body as I walked in the door. You kneel, legs spread, collar on, and leash in hand. The look on your face as you see me is a soothing balm from the long workday; one of pure joy at the sight of me. You lean back, presenting your perfect body for my viewing enjoyment, while offering me the end of the leash. I drop my bag and keys on the floor. With two hands I accept the leash reverently, my cock twitching to life. Squatting down, my hands and eyes begin to scan your naked breasts. My fingers gently run over your hardening nipples. A delicious whimper squeaks from deep in your throat; knowing my touch still has this effect on you is an aphrodisiac. Looking at you in those gorgeous eyes, we feel my fingers slip down your stomach and between your legs. The moist heat of your vulva washes over my fingers and I smirk. “Such a needy little thing already? How long have you been waiting for Daddy?”
After leading you to the bedroom, you undress me, exposing your playground with obvious excitement. All the while I mentally rummage through ideas of what to do to you. I settle on an activity we have not played with in months. Your hands perfectly work my boxer briefs down my body as I concoct the torturous fun we can have. Stepping out of the underwear, I stand towering over you naked. Kneeling before me, your gaze fixates on my half-hard-on before you meet my gaze. Seeing the look in my eyes has an obvious effect on you. You make to bite your lip but stop. “Good girl. Only Daddy gets to bite your lips.” I see the smirk on your face, and I chide you more. “Yes, both sets of lips. Now, go get the strawberries from the fridge.”
You lay on the bed spread eagle; limbs tied to the straps we have had in place for years. A silk blindfold is perfectly positioned so you cannot see. Earlier that morning I cut and sprinkled sugar over the strawberries, which makes an almost natural syrup when refrigerated; they were meant to be added to our Saturday morning pancakes. I opted to add them to my dessert tonight: your body. I trace a strawberry over your lips, the sweet liquid rolls down onto your tongue. However, like a good girl, you do not move. I beam with pride and simply say, “Good girl.” More of the sweet juice coats your tongue, trickling down into your throat. “Swallow,” I demand. Not wanting you to come to harm. You swallow, and whimper. The sweetness is no doubt hitting you. I shove my tongue into your mouth, tasting the concoction of your saliva and the sugared strawberry syrup, almost getting lost in the flavors. You start to kiss me back with the same passion, and I pull back, breaking the kiss. You hiss as cold strawberry liquid bites into your nipple.
