Why Hanna Loves Saturday

She has barely taken her finger off the doorbell when Thomas opens the door. Wordlessly, she walks past him, not daring to look at him. She hears the door slam and his footsteps behind her. She stops in the kitchen. In front of her is the mighty kitchen table. Much too big for Thomas' small apartment. She thinks she can smell thyme. Does Thomas cook himself? She doesn't know. And she doesn't care. In any case, he always smells good.

It has gone quiet behind her; she suspects him in the doorway, but doesn't know. Part of the game. She looks forward to this all week. At work, she's just a small cog in the wheel. Her boss is a choleric man who, at best, doesn't notice her. To this day, she doesn't know how to counter his vulgarities. With Thomas, it's completely different. There she is completely different.

Slowly and theatrically, she lets the coat slide off her shoulder. Underneath, she is naked. She hears a soft gasp and a smile flits across her face. She has surprised him again, she is pleased.

There are exactly two rules for their meetings. She doesn't announce herself. And he does what she wants. That's all it takes. And that's all it's supposed to be. Her last relationship ended in a war of the roses two years ago. She's had enough of compromise and dependency. Thomas fills exactly the gap she needs at the moment. Maybe, she thinks, it's also a little bit of an act of revenge.

"Get on your knees!" she commands, her gaze fixed on the window.

"Now come closer slowly, but so I can hear you!" Her tone is imperious, relishing it, playing with her voice.

The kitchen floor is tiled and she can hear the touchdown of his hands. "Stop!" she commands when she thinks he's gotten close enough. She bends over the kitchen table emphatically slowly and spreads her legs wide so that her feet come to rest against the table legs.

"Now lick my ass. Your fingers stay with you!". A shiver runs through her at the thought of what he's going to do and how he's going to do it.

She winces as she feels his tongue right inside her anus. So Thomas goes all out, directly, no detours. He circles her anus and drills into her after each round. An indescribable, glorious feeling flows through her, far more profound than the purely sexual component.

"Keep going!". Her voice is lightly laced. Involuntarily, she now follows Thomas' tongue movement with her hips. She is getting wet. She lets Thomas lick a little longer, then reaches back and pushes him away from her.

"Enough."

She turns around. Thomas still licks his lips and hangs on hers, awaiting another command.

"Take your clothes off."

He follows her to the letter, his gaze fixed on her vulva. He is horny and addicted to her, and she likes that beyond measure.

"Now you're going to stick your tongue in my cunt and lick it out until it's dry, got it!".

She grabs a chair and sits on the edge. Thomas gets back on his knees and starts licking.

"Harder, not so tentative. And suck. My pussy juice has to go. Come on!"

She's urging him on now. And she comes. She moans out, claws his hair and holds him away from her. Orgasm number one. She's determined to get to at least five today.

She gets to seven. Then she lets him fuck her, from behind, his fingers rubbing her clit. Not long and Thomas moans. That's the good thing about him: he has stamina where she's concerned and obviously no particular demands himself.

"Well done, little one." Hanna undoes herself and turns around.

Thomas looks down at his penis, which still has cum on it.

"Now you clean me up, but thoroughly."

She's almost a little startled by her own words. But her lust is still smoldering. She's never asked him to do this before.

But Thomas follows suit. Licks his cum out of her vagina. And she comes again, deep and long. Her whole body trembles.

She disengages from the chair and takes a brief moment to find her footing.

"My coat!". Her voice is low now, she is completely relaxed.

Thomas helps her into the coat.

"That was pretty good before. Not bad for a beginner."

She gives him a look of praise and motions for him to open the apartment door. She doesn't walk down the hall, she strides. She feels truly regal. A worthy mistress.