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Her Reward 1/2
All stories on this web site are purely FICTIONAL. The people depicted within these stories only exist in someone's IMAGINATION. Any resemblence between anyone depicted in these stories and any real person, living or dead, is an incredible COINCIDENCE too bizarre to be believed. If you think that you or someone you know is depicted in one of these stories it's only because you're a twisted perverted little fucker who sees conspiracies and plots where none exist. You probably suspect that your own MOTHER had sex with ALIENS and COWS and stuff. Well, she didn't. It's all in your head. Now take your tranquilizers and RELAX.
Subject: Her Reward Part 1
This is another story by Susan R. Actually it predates The Salon.
There are two parts, Susan's preparations for her master and the actual
test.
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Her Reward
by Susan R.
Susan epitomizes a woman of the 90's. Cool, efficient, organized. A
take-charge woman deftly managing a large services agency. She has worked
diligently through the years to achieve her success. She leads her
employees on a steadfast path towards lofty goals.
One afternoon the phone rings on her direct line and she answers with her
usual aloof, professional tone, "Susan, here."
There is silence for a moment then I hear a voice both rough ans velvety.
"This is David. Am I still your master?" "Yes," I say, trying
unsuccessfully to hide the desire that catches in my voice. Your voice
alone makes my clit respond with a warm, tingling sensation. "I will be
arriving in two hours and I want you ready to service me. You must prove
that you are worthy of my attentions." Before I can respond the line
clicks off.
Susan checks her appointments and rescheudles several for the following
week. Making a hasty excuse, she head for her red sports car parked in
the executive garage. Looking around for the attendant, she removes her
stockings and panties. As she steps into the car, her skirt slides up so
that the smoothness of her thighs glides across the cool leather.
My mind is not on the road but returning to a previous rendezvous with
you. My fingers glide across the silk covering my breasts. The nipples
press against the fabric. Mindlessly I undo a button or two to let my
hand wander across the lacy fabric. Trying to concentrate on the road, I
am glad there is very little traffic at this hour. My thighs feel the
wetness from my hot, moist pussy, which is sticking to the leather
upholstery. My fingers trace the edge of my skirt and graze the curly
dark hair of my triangle. An enthusiastic honk from a passing 18-wheeler
reminds me of my purpose. I smile.
Susan bought this house in the hills after her last promotion. She wanted
her privacy as an escape from the hectic business world. High above the
city it is nestled in the trees next to a small pond. She pulls into the
drive. Entering the living room, she drops her stockings and keys on the
coffee table. She goes into the bedroom and meticulously removes her
blouse and skirt, hanging them carefully in their proper place in the
closet. Stretching to reach the top shelf, she takes a small satchel from
its place and opens it to remove several items. As if in worship, she
places them on the bed. The transformation has begun.
I move from the bedroom into the master bath. I reach over and turn on
the shower, adjusting the spray and temperature. I methodically light the
scented candles and dim the light so that the room has a soft, enveloping
glow.
I step under the warm spray and stretch my body like a luxurious cat.
Reaching for my bath sponge, I dribble the musky, creamy bath gel across
its textured surface. It reminds me of your own musky cream. I raise the
sponge to my face and inhale deeply. I begin to anoint myself with the
gel, your sperm, by gliding the sponge down my throat to my breasts.
Reverently, I circle each one, covering the rosy nipples in foam. They
feel slippery and I cannot resist the temptation to pull them into hard,
little points. I pinch them harder because I want to remember how you
will later make them hurt so much with pleasure. Playing with them sends
another sensuous electrical current to my clit.
I take the sponge filled with your musky-fragrant cum and glide it over my
belly and back and asscheeks in creamy, sexy circles. I stroke each arm
slowly up and down until your foamy cum is dripping off of the tips of my
lacquered nails.
I want to annoint my whole body with your sex. Next, I bend over to
dribble your cream from the sponge between my toes. The sensation reminds
me of other times when I was bent to receive you. I close my eyes to
imagine that you are watching me spread your juices over my entire body.
You have silently entered and have pulled the curtain back just enough to
spy on me. I start up my left ankle, swirling your cum up my leg, higher
and higher until I reach the top of my smooth, inner thigh. The rough
edge of the sponge grazes ever so slightly the hair on my cunt lips and I
shiver. It is hard to concentrate but I know I must finish my anointment
and bend down to my right toes. I squeeze the sponge and your cum oozes
between my toes. Again I rub it in slow circles up my leg and across my
hairy mound. With my other hand I spread myself and dribble your spunk
across my inflamed lips. Your cum slides across my already creaming cunt
and swallows my trobbing clit.
I drop the sponge. My fingers circle my clit, rubbing, rubbing your cum
deeper and deeper into my pussy. My clit is swelling, purple-red,
glistening, twitching with erotic electricity. I urgently want to reach
my peak so I rub and rub my clit, first with my fingers, then my hand,
grinding into it until I am over the edge. The excitement of knowing that
your cum covers my whole body and is mingling with my own juices makes me
quiver uncontrollably and my screams echo off the tiles.
I am shocked back to reality and suddenly remember that I am supposed to
be preparing for my master's arrival. If I am not ready I will certainly
deserve his punishment. I step back under the steamy spray and rinse the
musky suds from my skin. I am still trembling and I step carefully out of
the shower, envelope myself in a fluffy towel, and gently caress myself
dry. 'How can I prove that I am worthy of my master?' I think to myself
as I walk to the bedroom to begin my final preparations.
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Copyright © 1991, Susan R.
Duplicating this story, with no changes or omissions, is permitted for
non-commercial purposes. All other rights are reserved. All copies must
retain this notice.
(Thanks to the Mountain Man for the efficient copyright notice.)
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