Another shitty day. Too many assholes at work, too many people on the bus, had to hang on a strap all the way home. The only upside is knowing she's waiting. I walk in and there's no lighting except a few discreet candles. You're on your knees, waiting, eyes downcast until I give permission to speak. You assumed the position when you got the text I was almost home. I walk past you to the closet and ditch my backpack and overcoat. Hang up my pants and jacket, and I get the oral lube. I don't hurry. You can wait.
I never gave you permission to move or speak, so you're still kneeling on a foam rubber pad, left hand in the air and outstretched with the leash to your collar. I walk back to you. "Open." You comply and I pour lube in your mouth until it dribbles down your chin and onto your breasts. This is part of the challenge. You must hold the lube in your mouth without spitting or swallowing. I take your leash and say "Present." You smear the lube dribbled down your chin onto the valley between your breasts and then cup them, pushing them together like a platform bra. You know what's coming next. Your nipples stiffen in anticipation and you flush across your face and chest.