"I'll see you in three hours, babe," you say. We make our goodbyes, and I hang up the phone. Time to shower. Stripping as I go, I smile my way into the bathroom and turn on the water. I let it get warm, but not too hot; I know that I’ll be in there for a while.

Slipping past the curtain, I enter the shower and stand immediately under the warm stream. I allow myself the luxury of getting fully wet before doing the obligatory shampooing and soaping. Once clean, though, I reach for a fresh razor and the shaving cream. I sit down on the floor of the shower, spread my legs apart, and focus on the area that will be receiving much attention in the time to come. Having done a rough trim earlier in the day, the hair shears away easily and leaves behind only silky smooth skin. Believing myself complete, I run my hands over my shorn pussy, making sure that everything is clear for you. I know what is coming, and I know what your response will be to my smooth flesh. Just thinking about it arouses me, and I slip my fingers into my waiting opening.

Already, I can feel the flesh pulsing in anticipation. My hand becomes covered with the warm water from the shower and the hot juices flowing from my body. I know that any preparation on my part will pay off later, so I settle myself back against the corner of the shower. My legs, also smooth from earlier preparation, spread wide to admit plenty of room for play. My right hand slips down, and I plunge my fingers inside of me as deep as I can. The tips of my fingers curl around the ridge, pushing in as far as they can, reaching for the fleshy portion that brings me so much pleasure. I allow my two fingers to play, twisting over each other and causing me to moan with pleasure. The sound reverberates in the shower, despite the patter of the water falling down on me, and it causes me to shiver a bit.

My fingers dig in deeper, pressing in as far as they can, pulsing against the fleshy end while they squeeze the ridge between them. And as I start to thrust with my hand, I bring my left hand to rest slightly higher, just allowing the tip of my middle finger to rest on my clit, now fiercely erect. My hips begin to rock against my hands, aiding them as they push in deeper and deeper. I feel juices flowing from my pussy, coating my fingers and hand, and I feel another sort of buildup within me.

But it is not yet time for that.

I continue to rock against my hands, pushing and twisting and reaching as deep as possible, moaning as I do until my breath becomes short. I start panting, gasping, and my hands move quicker, quicker… until finally I let out a shriek as my entire body begins convulsing against my hands in release. My legs tighten and I feel my pussy clasp tightly on my fingers, not letting them go.

I rest for a bit in the bottom of the shower, feeling the warm water continue to pour over me. Slowly and reluctantly, I slip my fingers out of me, stand up on shaky legs, and clean off. I turn off the water, wrap myself in towel and robe, and go out to the living room to dry off a bit. Perhaps I will play a bit before you get here….

 ***

Hours have passed. The phone rings. It’s you, telling me that you’re at the nearest interchange, and that means it’s time for me to dress.

I’ve already laid out the pieces of the necessary attire: boots, stockings, bra, choker. I sit on the bed and bring my left leg up next to me. The stocking slips smoothly over the newly shaven leg, and I slide it up to my mid-thigh, settling it in place where it is comfortable staying.

I love the look of my leg so clad, and I smooth my right hand down the length of it, enjoying the sight and the silkiness lent by the stocking. Bending down, I pick up the left boot and unzip it. My foot slides in, and I zip the boot up, up, up ‘til it encompasses my calf. I repeat the same ministrations to my right leg, donning both stocking and boot, until I can stand up off the bed to be 4” taller than usual. I know this is a sight you enjoy more than I, but I know what these items signify, and I start anticipating your visit even more.

This time, though, I eschew the bra in favor of letting my pert nipples be free to the air. I do, however, clasp the choker around my neck – a slight limitation of my breathing, enough to make me aware of it, just by virtue of the material being against my neck. I sit on the bed and brush out my hair until it gleams, then tie half of it back in the way you always seem to like.

Thus adorned, I light a candle in the bedroom, turn off the lights, and head out to the living room.

 ***

Only one light shines, and it is the low level light behind my couch. I prop up a few pillows and a blanket to lean against. Then, thinking for a moment, I head back to the kitchen to my chest of drawers, and pull out a couple of towels. I have a feeling they will be needed.

Lying two towels down on the couch, each folded but such that the beige one blends in with the couch, I settle myself down to wait. The door is unlocked, and I know that when you get here, you will merely enter. As much fun as I’ve had, I would like to be completely ready for you when you arrive.

My left leg is propped up on the couch; my right is off to the side, touching the floor. My legs are spread wide, allowing for any number of things to fit, but for now I’ll have to make do with my own hands. My left hand slips down and again strokes the ever-so-smooth skin, caressing the flesh between my legs, brushing over the sensitive lips, then sliding up to my clit. I nuzzle my finger between the protective folds and gasp with shock at touching something so sensitive.

Gliding my middle finger straight down, I find things very much in readiness. I easily slip two fingers into my wet and waiting pussy and begin to work it. Not too fast, but steadily, just keeping things primed and ready. My right hand comes up to capture my left breast and bring it to my lips. I start to suckle as I play with myself, pulling lightly at the tit, then flicking my tongue over it a few times before giving it the satisfaction of again being taken fully into my mouth.

Suckling excites me even more, and my left hand starts working more seriously. The fingers reach deeply and soon I have a third finger join in. Now I no longer get the depth, but I get somewhat closer to the girth I know I’ll receive when you get here. Twisting my wrist so that each finger stretches my flesh and rubs over the ridge, I start breathing faster, getting closer to readiness. I think, maybe, I’ll come before you arrive….

It’s at this time that I hear a car door slam. Slowing down a bit, letting my heart rate get back to normal and instead anticipating you, I pull my fingers out for a short time, just long enough to place each one in my mouth and suck it clean. It wouldn’t do to be dripping too much when you got here. Thus clean, my hand resumes its previous business.

The door opens.