Once again it's time for #MySexySaturday! In this week's edition, Lynn has urged us to find those perfect snippets about our "sexy man". We're to..."make them hot, make them sexy and make us sigh in anticipation...". Hopefully everyone is up to this challenge...cause I can't wait to read about all the sexy men - young, old, hunk or the average boy next door...I'm not picky.
With that being said, here's my contribution. It comes from my up coming release- Under His Domme's Control (and yes Esther this is a kinky femDom story that will tug at your heartstrings as much as it does other...parts of the anatomy.) Enjoy!
She peeked between a stack of tires leaning precariously to the left. Making sure to avoid touching the dirty rubber, she slipped into the garage bay. The sight of her husband as he hefted another pair of tires up and onto another stack, sent a strong surge of desire through her. Shirtless due to the heat, wearing nothing more than pair of work pants and heavy-duty work boots, Steven was the epitome of a man’s man. She always got a secret thrill knowing that her amazing Alpha husband was a closet submissive.
Even the memory of their early morning encounter was enough to get her engine revving, especially when she noticed the significant bulge straining the fly of his pants. The idea he’d done as she requested drove another surge of lust through her, which had her pussy leaking against the fine French lace of her thong. She was tempted to touch herself - but that was her slave’s job. When he turned to grab another set of tires, she could no longer resist the overwhelming temptation to join him, especially when she saw the tattoo stretching between his shoulder blades. Tribal in design with her club name in the center, the ink proclaimed him to be hers. And right this moment, she wanted her man.
“Slave, present.” Even as the firm order passed her lips, she relished his reaction. Both tires hit the ground with thuds, before rolling across the concrete. Steven’s eyes widened with surprise, as he glanced around the shop. It didn’t take a mind reader to know what he was thinking. It was nearing the end of his work hours, but there was still a chance of a customer coming in. If he obeyed, he was risking get caught with his pants down, literally, or he could refuse and accept the consequences of his refusal.
After their last round with punishment, she was kind of surprised he was wavering. Two days of being unable to serve his mistress was usually enough to get him to do whatever she wanted. She let ten seconds pass by as he mentally debated. As always, the choice was his, but she was getting impatient.
“I didn’t stutter, slave.” She crossed her arms over her chest. “Either you do as I asked or accept the consequences, and we both know how much you love those.”
As she suspected, he’d decided that he’d rather take the chance of being caught than risk a night of watching her masturbate and being unable to assist. His hands went to his belt and within moments, he stood there in all his glory, his upper body streaked with smears of grease, and Lord have mercy, his hard cock jutting out of his nest of closely cropped dark pubes with his pants around his ankles.
Picking her way across the floor, she stopped inches from him, savoring his smell, a unique combination of his aftershave and honest to God sweat. She wouldn’t say anything about the boots this time. The last thing she wanted for him to do was step on something on the shop floor. As long as his package was bare for her touch, she was happy. “Have you been good today, slave?” She kept her eyes on his.
Whew....after checking out the blurb below, be sure to visit the rest of the peeps on the Linky List!
Steven has slipped up by lying to his wife, now it's up to his Mistress to bring him back on the straight and narrow. But when he finds out the price for his deception will he still surrender?
©Dakota Trace All rights reserved. This is a work of fiction. All names, characters, locations, and incidents are products of the author’s imagination, or have been used fictionally. Any resemblance to actual persons living or dead, locales, or events is entirely coincidental. No portion of this work may be transmitted or reproduced in any form, or by any means, without permission in writing from the author.