Pet...

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A sensual friday night ritual to ease into a weekend of play.
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I'm curled up in the nook by the door like a kitten, awaiting your return. My hips are slanted off to the side of my knees, and my head rests softly on crossed hands. I catch a sound of you coming down the hall, and my ears prick as you turn the key in the lock and stalk into the flat. Your fingertips reach down to ruffle in my hair as you greet me, before you head into the lounge to shake off the working day. I stretch my fingers forward, pushing my bum up towards the air in a long languorous stretch, padding through to your feet as I sense the stress of the week flowing out from you. I wait, patiently, drinking in the sight of you and the scents drifting around you, as you settle and prepare yourself.

I can sense when your soul has settled enough for you to start our Friday ritual - the barely perceptible relaxation of your smaller muscles, the change in scent of your body that highlights your pleasure and anticipation. You bring your hand to the nape of my neck in a firm grip, causing my hackles to tense in pleasure, as you rise, heading towards the bathroom with a soft command of "Come, Pet."

I want to bounce eagerly in front of you and rush to the bathroom, but I sense that you need composure today and so I curb my instincts and follow at your heels, taking a seat on the stool you indicate. This bathroom is a palace - it's set up as a large, glittery-tiled wet room, with a rainfall shower and a freestanding roll-topped bath, more than big enough for two. You set the candles alight around the room, releasing scents of gardenia and frangipani into the air as the glittering tiles are set off by the candlelight. You shed your clothing, bringing a soft loofa, a bowl of warm water and a cherry scented shower gel over to where I'm sat. You kneel in front of me, a gentle smile taking over your face as you place my feet into bowl. You lather up the loofa, releasing cherry into the air to entwine with the gardenia and frangipani already assailing my senses, and picking up my right foot, slowly drag the loofa along the underside of my warmed foot, caressing in gentle circles, soaping and soaking and oiling as you move.

My head tips back as your caring cleansing touch sweeps over my feet, and my face clenches as you slip in between my toes, causing a uniquely pleasurable yet uncomfortable sensation in places that are not normally touched by another. Your body is easing, allowing the stresses of the week to filter out, and your smile fills your face as you minister to me, drawing out mewls and reactions. You pause, drawing the bath so that it's ready for when we have finished here on this stool, and then return to me, lifting my other foot to painstakingly and teasingly draw out the same sensations, sending me to a point where I'm both wound up and fully relaxed at the same time, my body on edge and the smallest of touches sending ripples throughout.

As you finish washing my feet, you are brighter, bouncier, less weighed down by the week, and your teasing lightness comes into play. You kneel before me, a hand on each ankle, turning that firm grip into the trace of your nails up the outsides of my legs, over my hips and across my stomach, causing my body to clench and ripple as you cross sensitive areas that make me squirm. Grinning at the ease with which I react to you, you take my nipples between the forefinger and thumb of each hand, pulling and pinching with enough force that I squeal and rush to follow you as you direct me into the waiting bath, setting me on my hands and knees with a swat of my ass. The bathwater is full of bubbles yet not very deep, and I eye you over my shoulder in anticipation.

You instruct me to sit back on my heels, wrapping my hair around your hand as you pull my head backwards. You cup the water in your hand and drip it down the front arch of my body - from my neck, over my breasts, down my stomach - repeating this at your leisure as my skin tingles and erupts in goosebumps, and my nipples tighten. You return the loofa to your hand and make achingly slow circles across my upper body with the contrast of the soft scratchy material and the oily shower gel, thoroughly soaping my breasts and stomach and upper thighs, my body arching and rippling into your touch as the stimulation builds.

The pull of your hand in my hair ducks me down so I'm lying face down in the bath before you return me to all fours, my back arched and my nipples skimming the surface of the water, creating little jolts of sensation as they sway slightly. Your hands have moved to my back, one with water, the other with the loofa, as you trace soapy patterns on my back and then wash them off with the caress of your other hand. I'm soft, pliable and puddling from the attention you're lavishing on me, my body tingling and reactive to your touch. My soft gasps and mewls get tighter with tension as you raise the sensations ravaging my body, teasingly avoiding my ass and anywhere close until you can tell I'm wound up enough to snap. Even then, you raise the bar, soaping my ass cheeks and trailing your touch over the super sensitive spot where my ass meets the top of my thighs, still denying the touch I crave of your fingers on my clit and in my pussy.

Your gaze roves my body, dripping wet and glistening with soap and bubbles that glint as I ripple against your touching and teasing, and you catch the look of sheer and immense pleasure and frustration and surrender on my face. Smirking at the knowledge of the effect you have on me, you cup your hand gently over my pussy, the pads of your fingers pressing down firmly. Your touch has an immediate effect and my eyes fly open to catch yours as electricity zings through my body where your palm is pressed against me and I push back into your hold. The state of my arousal never ceases to amuse you; the texture of my arousal viscous and apparent against the water and soap covering my body. As a growling purr erupts deep from my throat, you smile, pleased with the evening's ritual and prepared for a full night of play ahead.

Your hand wrapped in my hair draws me out of the bath and into a warm fluffy towel, my body pliable and on edge as I await whatever you have planned next...

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