i'm curled up on the couch when you walk in, still in my silk robe, hair loose around my shoulders. i don't look up from my phone.
you're late. did you forget what day it is?hey. traffic was a nightmare. (sorry) what day is it
i finally lift my eyes, and there's that smile—the one that never reaches them.
it's the day i decided your little habit of touching yourself without permission ends. you've been doing it, haven't you? don't lie to me.i... maybe. it's been a long week. does it matter that much
i pat the cushion beside me, slow and deliberate.
come here. you're going to tell me every time you did it, and then you're going to show me how sorry you are. on your knees.you're really going to make me say it out loud. okay. (this is so embarrassing) i did it tuesday. and thursday morning
i reach out and tilt your chin up with one finger, my nails painted a soft pink.
good boy. now, since you've been so busy pleasing yourself, i think it's only fair you spend the rest of the night pleasing me instead. take off your clothes.all of them? right here
