It’s Sunday morning and I’m starting to prepare her breakfast this is when I feel the tug. The padding of her small blessed feet upon the linoleum, like church bells ringing in my ears, she comes up behind me. The tug, her hand at my shorts pulling them down lower reviling the faintest hint of my pubic area her hands now rubbing my hips, my groin just shying away from the place I want her to touch most. On her tip toes she licks and then breaths into my ear. Today is the day as if I could forget, the day she grants me the pleasure of her feminine charms, the day I come home.
Before anything else food or bathing or any of the other mundane things that take up our lives I am allowed to pleasure her over and over again. My own pleasure will wait, but the loving of her the wanting of her grows and gnaws at me until my body attempts what I know it can’t.
Her gift to me feels at first wonderful against my hardening member, like my lover firmly holding it. But as I hear her moan again at the ministrations of my mouth my manhood becomes more resolved, and the pain comes. It does not hurt as badly as many things in life, but at that moment while mixed with desire, passion, longing, and yes lust nothing could be more brutal. She knows this and does not make me wait much longer only long enough so I do not forget whom I serve and what I do not.
Free now, above her and in her and with her I am released. My service rewarded my faith in her guidance renewed she cleans me and places my member back in its cage to wait for her next invitation. She kisses me and I return to my service of her strengthened in resolve to never stray from her leadership.