Mister Silent: Anticipation


Ever since we had lunch with Mister Silent, he has been in my thoughts; in my dreams. Anticipation for our next meeting has taken over.

My mind has a will of its own. Whether I am at work or in the car on my way to work, at our regular hangout or in my bed… my thoughts involuntarily wander to our lunch date. I think about his fingers between my legs. Think about his hand on my back; his fingers tangled in my hair. Think about his eyes upon my breast when he pulled the fabric of my dress aside.

My thoughts go to the promise I heard the two men make just before we parted that day: soon there will be a different kind of meeting – a playdate.

That’s where the anticipation comes in…

I think of his fingers lightly pinching my nipple…

… and I wonder what his touch will be like. Will he start out gentle? Will he pinch harder? Will he grab my breast, squeeze it and cause me the delicious pain I sometimes crave? Will his lips and tongue touch my hard nipples? Will he use his mouth to excite my nipples? Or to sooth them after he had hurt them?

I think of his lips briefly on mine…

… and I wonder if he will kiss me when we meet again. I mean, kiss me, like in really kissing me. On the lips. Passionate. Or will his kisses trail over my body? Will he kiss my neck, my nipples, my tummy, my mound? Will he tease me with his lips?

I think of his hand in my hair…

… and I wonder if his touch will be as gentle as it was the first time. Maybe he will tangle his fingers in my hair? Maybe he will pull my hair, tilting my head so I can look at him? Or maybe his touch will always be gentle when he plays with my hair?

I think of his arms; his strong physique…

… and I wonder if he will allow me to fight him and then subdue me? Will he push me down and hold me down while he touches or pinches my nipples? Will he hold my wrists together with one hand while he fucks me with the fingers on the other? Will he hold me tight to him while he takes possession of my body; fucking me?

I think of his fingers touching my cunt…

… and I wonder how those fingers will touch me soon. Will he push more than one inside me and stretch me to accommodate them? Will he fuck me with his fingers until I squirt over his hand? Will he push his fingers inside me while his tongue teases my clitoris? Will his fingers tease me until I beg for an orgasm?

My thoughts move to our next time together…

…and I wonder what will happen. How strict will he be with me? Will he require me to kneel in front of him? Will he want me to crawl? Will he use the paddle? The flogger? The whip? The cane? Or will he use his hands to spank my bottom until it’s deeply red and hot? Will he use me until I cannot stand anymore, until I beg him for some rest? Will he fuck me? I want him to. Will he fuck my mouth? I want him to. Will he hold me gently when I am spent after multiple orgasms? I want him to.

I cannot help it. I keep on thinking back on our last meeting and anticipate on what will happen when we see each other again.

Only one thing about our next meeting I am sure of: when Mister Silent is done with me, Master T will demand my attention. I will end up on my knees in front of him. He will kiss me, pull my hair, make me look at him and tell me to suck his cock, which by then I will crave: to please him in any way he wants.

There’s only one way to find out what will happen when we meet Mister Silent for a playdate: to wait until we are in the same room and to submit myself to him.

Because I want to.

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© Rebel’s Notes

Wicked Wednesday

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