Our Secret - Sinful Sunday

He asked me if he could pop over last night, a cheeky smirk formed across my face.

I slipped on a lace cami, black french lace panties, a burgendy bra that drove him crazy and my hooker heels.

Opening the front door, I stood no chance, he pushed through, grabbed with with force and bent me over the sofa.  He held my hands behind my back and didn't say a word, all I could hear was his heavy breathing, then the feeling of cool satin wrapping around my wrists, as he tied them together.  He slowed his pace, being slightly more gentle than his original entrance, kissing my bare skin, sliding my panties down and tasting the fountain between my thighs.  A soft groan was all I could hear, my master had fulfilled one of his cravings, the next was to come.

I jerked up, before relaxing back down from the shock and tension of the suede flogger, smacking my thigh, again and again and again, until the red risen welt showed it's anger.  Master softly kissed my thigh better, telling me "there's my girl, my naughty naughty slut".


Silence, I'm alone, all I knew was that my master had left me, walking out my front door, leaving it wide open for the night's chill to bite my bare skin.  It's not always about the sex, well, might not be what my neighbours now think.......................

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