For Sir Ch. 01

I sit back from my computer with a yawn. Stretching my arms over my head, I steal a glance at the wall clock. 18 minutes until freedom. Time has felt like it's been moving backward this afternoon.

I've been staring at the spreadsheets on my screen for so long that they're starting to blur. I rub my tired eyes and let my mind wander to my Sir, wondering how his day is going.

My phone has been conspicuously silent today; our normal steady stream of banter absent. Sir's attention has been needed elsewhere, and I'm not overly pleased about it. I miss him; the need to be near the man that owns me is an ever present dull roar in my body. Normally it's fed through frequent contact, but on days like today, I get edgy and uncomfortable waiting for the absence to end.

I lean back, close my eyes and thumb my collar, a dainty necklace with a BDSM symbol pendant. With a heavy sigh, I indulge in my favourite pastime for days like today...I fantasize. I think of my Sir's hands on me, the scrape of his calloused palms over my skin. The feeling of his mouth on me, the slight abrasion of his whiskers, the thrill of knowing that I'm his. I can almost feel his hands in my hair, and I shudder.

I love him always, but when my Sir gets extra Dommy on me, it makes me weak in the knees.

He's been going easy on me lately; indulging my love of cuddles, gentle attention and affection. But today I want more. So much more. I want my Sir to let loose. I want him to have his favourite pleasures.

Don't get me wrong, I love the tenderness, the love making, the way my Sir makes me feel like the most precious creature on the face of the planet, but dammit, I just want him to fuck me. There's nothing more erotic than the look my Sir gets when he's about to make me his fuck toy, and nothing more satisfying than pleasing him.

I'm willing to bet that today would be a good day to get what I want. My Sir may have some pent up frustrations from work. Maybe I could help him release them?

Slowly, a plan starts to formulate in my head. Maybe my Sir just needs to know that I've had enough gentle.

Maybe he's waiting for me to come to him.

He's given me specific instructions on how to request play time, but I've never used them. Maybe today would be a good day to change that.

I think of the last time he had his way with me, how he'd kissed me hard and deep, taking possession of my mouth with his tongue. Wrapping his fist in my hair and making me moan into his mouth. When he pulled back, it was to command,

"Kneel."

I'd dropped to my knees, his hand still clenched in my hair, and fumbled with his belt buckle, eager for his taste on my tongue. When his hard cock had sprung free from his pants, I'd parted my lips and snaked my tongue over the head, enjoying his sharp intake of breath. My Sir had taught me how to please him with my mouth, how to taste him with long, sweeping licks, just the way he liked.

"Look at me," he'd ordered, and I'd held his gaze while probing his slit with my tongue before taking the tip into my mouth and sucking gently. His hand had tightened in my hair and he'd shoved deeper, pressing into the back of my throat and holding steady while I fought my gag reflex. My hands had come up to grip his thighs, and I'd gasped when he'd pulled back, allowing me air before shoving back in. Tears had sprung into my eyes and slid down my cheeks from the invasion, but I'd loved every second.

"Good girl," he'd growled.

I'd moaned onto his dick, tipping my head back for his thrusts while he fucked my mouth. His eyes never left mine as he thrust over and over, and I'd felt him grow hard as granite before exploding onto my tongue. I swallowed and swallowed, trying to keep up. And when he slipped out of my mouth, he'd looked at me with pride and leaned down to kiss me again.

"That's my good girl, sweetheart. My very good girl."

Heat starts to spread through my core as I remember that look, those words. I want it again.

I'm so lost in my thoughts that I don't realize how much time has passed; it's finally home time. Gathering up my things, I stumble gracelessly toward the door while feeling the dampness in my panties brush against my sex. I'm still lost in dazed fantasies of my Sir.

The commute home is short, and I spend the time planning how to approach Sir. I'm nervous. What if he says no? I'll be so embarrassed. What if I bite off more than I can chew? I'm willing to risk it. Sir would never really hurt me. The worst he can say is no. I can do this. And if he says yes? Bliss.

I reach home and let myself in, going through the normal motions. A quick check of the clock reveals plenty of time to prepare myself exactly as Sir likes me, and I head to the bathroom. I start the shower, and slide my clothes off my body, enjoying the glide of the fabric on my sensitized skin.

Naked, I turn to face the mirror with a critical eye. I take in my reflection, trying to see it the way my Sir does. My long, dark hair falls in heavy waves to the middle of my back. Side-swept bangs frame large, dark eyes. My skin is pale, which only makes the smattering of freckles across my nose more obvious. My ass and hips have a rounded flare that Sir traces often; my breasts perky and full. My sex is bare and smooth, just the way Sir likes it.

I think of Sir looking at my body as I'm doing now, as he's done countless times before. At first, I was awkward and self conscious, but now heat glows over the surface of my skin at only the thought. I remember how his hands feel moving over my skin, gliding over my curves, gripping my hips. I watch in fascination as my skin flushes pink with my thoughts. My nipples pebble, and my breath comes in shallow puffs. I'm so aroused. I can feel the moisture gathering between my thighs. But I'm not allowed to touch without permission. With a frustrated grumble, I turn away from the mirror and focus on preparing for Sir.

I get into the shower before I can be tempted to break a rule and touch myself, stepping under the warm spray. The water glides down my body, like fingers running over my skin. I moan as I let the warm stream cascade over the top of my head and down the back of my neck. My mind refuses to focus on anything but what may happen.

Will Sir refuse me?

Will he play with me, but not what I'm craving? That would still be ok.

Will he let me cum?

I'm desperate to.

My hands move over my body, soaping my taut skin with body wash. I dig my fingers into my shoulders, massaging my tired muscles as the scent of pomegranate and citrus fills the bathroom. I sigh in pleasure, slipping my hands over my breasts; trying to be methodical as goosebumps form from my own touch.

When I reach my aching sex, I have to bite my lip to stifle a whiny groan. My fingers slip between my pouty pussy lips and brush past my clit, sending a zing of electricity along my spine. I pull my hands away quickly. My fingers hover over my throbbing clit...It would be so easy to make myself cum right here. But no, I promised Sir. Not without his permission.

Taking a deep breath, I turn into the spray and rinse the soap off me.

Enough, I think to myself. Get out of here before I have to explain myself.

I make quick work of the rest of my shower, primping and polishing until every inch of me is clean and smooth. I dry off quickly, and pad softly back to the bedroom, remaining naked but for one of Sir's t-shirts and a pair of lacy panties.

My goal tonight is to set my Sir at ease. Let him unwind a bit before I approach him. If he's had a long day, he'll likely want to relax first. I'll set things the way he likes, and wait for him to call for me. He will. My Sir enjoys having me near him as much as I need to be there.

And he should be home any moment.

The rumble of his truck alerts me to his arrival...There's no being stealthy in that big, diesel guzzling man-toy. That's my cue.

I grab a beer from the fridge and set it on the table where he'll drop his keys, then head into the study. I know my Sirs routine. This is where he'll want to decompress. On the big sofa in front of his fireplace. This is where I'll give him a bit of space when he first comes home.

Hopefully the most space between us for the rest of the night, I think to myself with a nervous grin.

I head into the bedroom, closing the door slightly. I Iay on the bed, phone nearby, and wait...

But not for long...within a few minutes, my phone dings.

M: Thank you for the beer. Where are you hiding, sweetheart? I'm home. Come see me.

My grin is instantaneous.

I hop to my feet and pull off my T-shirt before making my way over to the bedside table. I pull out the drawer as I slide my panties down my smooth thighs. Stepping out of them, I grab the bottle of lube from the drawer and give it a nudge with my bare hip as I turn, letting it slide closed.

I make my way down the hall toward the living room and feel my trepidation grow. This is presumptuous of me. What if he doesn't want me right now?

No. Sir told me if I wanted to play, this was how I approach him. I want to play. I can feel the wetness against my thighs with every step I take. I reach the doorway and take in my handsome Sir, lounging in front of the blazing fireplace. My gaze zeroes in on his hands. God, I love his hands. The hands of a man who works for a living; they're strong and capable, callused and scarred, and the pleasure they give me? Mind numbing.

He hasn't seen me yet. I kneel down, setting the lube beside me.

"Sir?" I ask. I can hear the hesitation in my own voice.

He turns and sees me and freezes for a moment. I can see the surprise on his face, but that look quickly changes, replaced by a devilish smirk.

"Yes, sweetheart?" He asks smoothly.

"Can we please play?"

His gaze roams over me. I can see the heat building in his eyes. He wants me. But he's controlled...that doesn't mean this will go how I'd like.

He leans forward on the couch and extends his hand toward me,

"Come here, pumpkin."

I pick up the bottle of lube between my teeth, and crawl on my hands and knees toward him. I hold his eyes, like he's taught me to. I deliberately move slower than I want to. He's watching my every move. Gauging me.

I come to a stop in front of him, and sit back on my knees. He takes the bottle from my mouth and runs a finger down my cheek.

"Tell me what you want, sweetie."

"Will you please fuck my ass, Sir?"

I see the naked desire all over his face. He wants it too. Delight courses through me, but although he adjusts himself slightly in his pants, he doesn't answer right away.

Sitting back into the couch, he considers me.

"You want me to fuck your ass tonight?"

I nod.

"Words," he commands.

"Yes, Sir"

"Tell me," he says, more firmly.

I can feel myself blushing, and I drop my gaze to my hands folded on my lap.

"I want you to fuck my ass, Sir."

"Eyes."

I look back up and meet his gaze.

"Now, tell me again."

Feeling my face flame, I somehow manage to force out the words,

"I want you to fuck my ass, Sir."

"Good girl. Is that where you'd like me to cum tonight?"

"Yes, Sir."

He tsks slightly, "tell me, sweetie."

"I'd like you to cum in my ass tonight, Sir."

"Hmmmm."

He runs a hand over his bearded chin, looking me over, drawing it out before saying,

"Lay on your back, pumpkin."

I do as he asks, positioning myself back enough that I can see his face easily. I cross my hands over my stomach and keep my knees tightly together. I'm suddenly feeling very self conscious, and I wonder if this is going to go much differently than I had hoped. I can feel the warmth of the fire on my skin, and I watch the shadows of flames flicker over Sir's face.

"I want you to spread your knees wide apart, show me what's mine."

Liquid desire pools at my core with those words, and I obey him. I can feel my wetness as the cool air hits it. Jesus, I want his hands on me so badly.

"Play for me, sweetie."

Wait...what?

My shocked eyes fly to his, and he looks very pleased. Everything is still ok. My Sir wants to watch me, and I want to please him.

With my knees spread wide, I lift my hands to glide over my collar bone, down my chest. I squeeze my breasts, and caress my skin slowly. I pinch my nipples, letting a small moan escape my mouth at the delightful sensation. They harden under my touch, and I tug harder at them, mimicking how Sir does it. They're sensitive, and my desire makes my breasts feel heavy and achy. Eager for a mouth on them. I can't help but arch my back into my own touch. I can feel Sir's stare. I know he's tracking my every move.

One hand moves lower, sliding down my stomach, finding its way to my wet pussy. I spread my folds for him to see how wet I am, and let my finger find my clit. I start slowly, circling, tracing, before dipping my fingers lower to gather my wetness. I move my fingers back, watching Sir watching me. I ache. The intensity of his gaze on me makes my pussy clench. My clit throbs. I rub, and am delighted when Sir opens his pants, taking out his hard cock, and strokes while holding my eyes. I can't stop the throaty moan that leaves my mouth, and slide one hand up my body to tug at my nipple again. I'm lost in the sensations, my juices coating my fingers, and the tightening low in my belly tells me it's time to ask for permission,

"Sir, can I please cum?"

"Yes. Cum for me," he says without hesitation.

Heat rushes through my core, my pussy clenching and spasming while my orgasm rolls through me. My back arches and my knees fall wide, my moans turning to gasping pants.

I let out a startled yelp as my Sir pounces on me. Grabbing my hips roughly and rolling me over.

"On your knees," he orders hoarsely, and I scramble to obey. Getting me knees under me and spread wide, giving Sir my pussy and ass. I'm rewarded with his warm, hard cock sliding through my wetness, seeking access, before Sir buries himself in my pussy with one deep, powerful thrust.

Oh God, it feels so good. my fingernails dig into the carpet. Sirs fingers clench my hips, pulling me back onto his dick. I'm completely awash in pleasure, another orgasm rushing closer with every thrust, my cries for more coming in a steady stream.

He pulls out, and I want to sob in frustration, but then I hear the familiar 'click' of the lube bottle's cap being opened. Quickly, it's followed by cold gel on my asshole, and the press of Sir' cock, slowly edging it's way into my tightest hole.

"Relax for me, sweetie."

I breath out a delighted sigh, and comply as he slides a hand up my back, urging my chest and head against the floor, leaving my ass high for him.

"Thank you, Sir," I breath, letting my body go loose, feeling him fill me inch by delicious inch.

And he growls back, "that's my good girl," as he buries his cock in me so deep I can feel his balls resting against my weeping pussy. Keeping his hand between my shoulder blades, he holds me in place as he begins to fuck me. He pumps into me slowly, allowing me to adjust to the invasion. Slowly, so slowly, he increases his pace and depth. Building momentum, until he's holding me down with both hands and his weight on my back while hammering my ass. Pumping in and out, the slap of his body hitting mine with every thrust sending waves of need up my spine. My pussy is dripping with my need, my inner thighs coated in my wetness. I'm so close to cumming. So close. Time seems to slow down, the edges of my vision blur as my pleasure builds. My Sir's thrusts are relentless. Pistoning into my ass hard and fast. I reach back to rub my clit, and hit the edge of an orgasm in seconds.

I can barely force out the words, "Sir, please?"

"Yes."

And I detonate. Cumming hard. My empty pussy clamping down hard while my clit pulses.

Sir is pounding into me, and I clench both hands into the carpet to hold myself steady. God, this is what I've been dying for.

"You want me to cum in your ass?" He growls at me.

"Yes Sir," I cry, "Please, please cum in my ass."

His gasping breath warns me he's close. And then the rush of heat as he fills me up with his cum. His thrusts slow, and then stop, but he holds himself inside me. He leans against me as he catches his breath, his weight euphoric on my back, then wraps his hand in my hair and pulls my head back, kissing me deeply on the mouth. Sliding his tongue erotically against mine.

"Have I been leaving my good girl wanting?"

"No Sir," I say automatically.

His grip tightens in my hair until I gasp, "have I?"

"I've been having cravings, Sir," I say carefully.

He chuckles, "Cravings for more?"

"Yes, Sir."

"Good girl. You're ready for more. Tomorrow after work you will wait for me in the playroom."

He kisses my mouth possessively, and eases me to the ground as he pulls out of my ass. He gets to his feet and instructs me to wait for him while he fetches a cloth. I enjoy the sensation of the thick carpet against my skin, and wait for him to return. I'm floating on the high my Sir creates in me. And I think about his comment "you're ready for more," puzzling it over.

And then I realise, he's been waiting for this. I just gave him exactly what he wanted.

But what does this mean for tomorrow?