Victoria tossed the parcel onto her bed as she struggled to unfasten her collar. After a short delay, she removed the padlock from its securing clasp and threw it on top of her duvet. With the collar now loosened, it dropped easily into her hands and she moved to the edge of her bed before placing it carefully alongside the parcel. It was, she thought, a lot heavier than she had expected as she stumbled slightly before dashing, quickly, back across the room.
Grabbing the back of her skirt and pulling it up, she turned, almost pirouette like, so that her back faced the full-length mirror in the wardrobe door. She lifted her skirt a little higher and began to twist and bend, somewhat comically, as her eyes strained to make contact with the bright red handprint that marred her, otherwise, milky white arse cheek.
“Oh my god, that looks so ... oh fuck, I love it,” she gasped, somewhat breathlessly.
Crouching slightly, and with her back arched, she reached behind with both hands. She pulled her cheeks wide apart, peering awkwardly over her shoulder as she did so, allowing her eyes to feast on her rather sordid reflection. She watched eagerly as her puckered hole started to flex and her shiny plug began forcing its way back and forth. Her hands continued mauling roughly at her cheeks and her urgent whimpers grew louder as her inner muscles increased their pace.
Her perfectly formed sex desperately cried out for her special touch and she mustered all of her willpower to resist its unforgiving lure. Willpower alone, however, was not enough and her mind began to waver, edging ever closer to the point of no return. Her body suddenly recoiled, however, causing her to gasp involuntarily. She just managed to catch hold of the retreating plug before fighting desperately to regain her composure. She placed it on the floor and looked to the clock on the wall. Realising that she didn’t have much time, she tripped and hopped her way across the room, quickly shedding her clothes and letting them fall to the floor. Their untidy trail followed her path before stopping abruptly at the doorway to the ensuite bathroom.
It is, perhaps, one of those stranger facts of life. Time always appears to be in short supply when it’s required. And yet, when you have too much, it drags its feet like an intoxicated tramp going round in circles. I certainly wasn’t drunk. I felt sure, however, as I glanced at my watch yet again, that my mind had, most definitely, completed far too many circles.
Victoria let her bath towel drop to the floor as she reached her bed. Her freshly scented body, still damp from her shower, perched gracefully on its edge as she briefly studied the parcel before picking it up. Although it wasn’t very wide, it must have been about two and a half feet in length and her heart began to race as her fingers tore urgently at the buff coloured wrapping paper.
“Oh wow. Oh my god!” she said quietly, eyeing the contents as they spilled onto her duvet.
A set of beautifully made nipple clamps and a pair of stripy cotton hold-ups sat to her side. Something else, quite thin and curiously long, however, lay close by. It was neatly wrapped in purple tissue paper with a couple of small strips of Sellotape to secure it. She stood up and decided, nevertheless, that she would open the ‘surprise’ package after she had dressed.
I checked my watch again, perhaps needlessly so, as my legs were already on the move. With a glass in each hand, I made my way along the hallway towards the stairs. My barefoot kicked her discarded knickers to one side as I waited momentarily and listened. Complete silence, apart from the occasional ‘clink’ of ice cubes as they bumped against the sides of the glasses, surely meant only one thing. She was ready!
Small woolen threads that made up the deep pile carpet edged warmly between my toes as I began my ascent. A strange feeling, however, began to flood through me as I continued. I wasn’t nervous, anxious perhaps, excited yes, but there was something else, a feeling that was difficult to explain. The palms of my hands were unusually clammy and my stomach felt as though it were a washing machine completing its final spin. As I stepped onto the landing, I placed the drinks on a small corner table before reaching for the knob and opening her bedroom door. Releasing my grip, I slowly pushed it open with my foot, listening as its hinges whined briefly before I turned and retrieved the drinks.