Otilia

It’s Friday afternoon; she will be home from work soon and I’ll get to spend the whole weekend with her. I’ve prepared a nice dinner, because she really appreciates my home cooked meals. It’s nothing special, really, just some veggie burgers, but I’ve used grilled Portobello mushrooms and spiced chickpea, just the way she likes it. Last time I made it, she joked that I’ll be awarded the girlfriend of the year award soon if I go on spoiling her like this. She’s not one for empty promises and I know, I can expect something no less than amazing soon.

Of course, I’m not doing these little things for a prize; I love every bit of this playful, crazy woman and if she told me, she fancied a steak made of the hind quarters of the last living white rhino and I’d have to hand-wrestle and kill it myself, I would.

Lucky for me, Peta and the WWF, she’s a vegetarian.

When she comes through the door she has that exhausted puppy expression in her eyes, but a warm smile on her corporate shark red lips. We sit down and eat in relative silence. When she’s this quiet, she’s either too tired or... she’s planning something.

She holds my gaze, as I study her face while serving salad onto her plate – complete with her favourite, homemade honey mustard dressing. A mischievous curl lingers on her lips.

I stand up and grab a bottle of white from the fridge. Filling our glasses with the golden muscat liquid, I notice that she’s put her hand on the table and is hiding something underneath her cupped palm, waiting wide-eyed for my reaction.

“Three guesses,” she whispers. “If you guess correctly, you get to use it first.”

I haven’t got the faintest idea.

She’s mentioned getting a new car recently... “Car keys?” I blurt.

She shakes her head and rolls her eyes, “As if.”

“Hmmm, I have no idea. A sex toy?... Nipple clamps?”

“Warmer but oh no, no.”

“But is it a toy, then?”

“Sort of, yes,” she replies with a ‘what else would it be’ smile.

“A bullet?” That’s the only other toy, I can think of that’d fit in her hand.

She shakes her head again, her long ponytail swinging from side to side hypnotically.

Her hand lifts to reveal a pair of dice... that pair of dice. Black, smooth, rounded surface, red pips.

“I haven’t seen these for a while...”

“I know. And we missed them, didn’t we?”

One does loads of crazy, daring things at the beginning of a relationship.

***

I run a huge bath in our spacious corner tub, filled with honey and vanilla scented bubbles. I’m already soaking up the deliciously scented heaven, when she undresses and joins me. I offer to wash her hair and massage her scalp; it always relaxes her after a stressful week at work, which she had plenty of recently. Not everyone can enjoy a super extended furlough, so it’s the least, I can do.

The sounds escaping her mouth as I rub the coconut shampoo into her hair make me want to explore other parts of her body and forget about her little kinky plans with the dice. I find myself lathering up her perky breasts - I’ve always found them to be the perfect size, 36D I think.

“Do you have a new list for the dice?” I purr into her ear. “Or are we using the old one?”

“Did we not exhaust the old list?” she chuckles. “It’s a brand new one.”

“Can I see it?”

She shakes her head.

“Pleeeease.” I whisper into her ear, foam filling up my nostrils.

“Keep the begging for later, Kitty!”

She emerges from the bubbles, wrapping herself into one of the huge white towels; we had bought them (and a host of other accoutrements) in the depths of the first lockdown, when we decided that we really needed a home spa day.

When I join her in the front room, she has the list in front of her, upside down on the table. We’re both wearing casual comfortable clothes, unsure where this night is heading...

Ramona

Oh, the damn week I had. I fucking hate this job. I’m sick of doing most of the work and still being pushed around by these pig-headed, arrogant men. Those two dicks are the prime examples of why I gave up on men a long time ago. Of course, there are a few decent ones, but I don’t have the patience to sieve through the dirt anymore. Luckily I have the sweetest Kitty at home, waiting for my every wish, like a genie.

This weekend, I need some fun, some distraction to forget work and think through all this. Maybe I should just resign and find something less stressful. I open my drawer looking for a document, that should have been filed days ago, but with so much on my plate, things get dropped. Rummaging in the back of the drawer, I spot something odd. That pair of dice. I have no idea how they ended up in my work desk or how long they’ve been there, but they will be perfect for this weekend.

They’re a reminder of a life we lived once, a more carefree, more exciting life. I don’t even know how or when we settled into this almost boring. married life. I guess the lockdown has a lot to do with it; fetish and all other clubs closed, me working more because Tilly’s earnings have dropped.

Is she missing those nights, I wonder – or almost forgotten that life, like I did? Before I know it, I’m on my phone browsing the newest trends of kinks, listing things to explore and re-visit. I cross out the ones I recall she doesn’t like and of course I have to leave out those involving others.

I show the dice to her over dinner revealing my kinky plans for the weekend. The excited spark that I haven’t seen for months lights up her eyes. She runs a nice hot bath like she used to, before playtime. I love her soft baby skin and beautiful delicate scent.

***

I tell her to kiss the dice for good luck, before I roll. She plants an erotic smacker on them, finished by playfully tonguing them around my palm. I give them a mighty shake then let them roll the whole length of the table. Six and five - eleven, her favourite number. She told me once why, something about being the connection to the spirit world...

Number eleven is ‘exhibitionism’ on the list and after the initial excitement, seeing her favourite number, now she seems disappointed. I know, that’s not her favourite kink, but she enjoys it, once she’s in the mood.

“I wish we could do them all,” she sighs

Exactly my thoughts – and it gives me an idea.

“Why don’t we make a naughty home video and if Kitten behaves, she gets to do more?”

“Kitten really likes that idea.” As she smiles, I can already envision her cute whiskers across her face.

She asks me to tie her hair into two small buns, resembling cat’s ears. I completely forgot how to do them and we have to watch that YouTube video again for instructions. She’s purring and moaning throughout; she always liked me fussing with her hair. I complete the look, drawing black whiskers across her cute plump cheeks, handing her kitten face mask over.

“We should have filmed the preparations too,” she meows, looking at herself in the handheld mirror. It’s lovely to see her insecurities evaporating already. I bet if I checked, I’d find a wet patch on her black panties.

“Did that turn you on?” I smirk.

I instruct her to lower herself onto all fours, while I don my own mask – a simple black lace one. On the rare occasions she lets me film her, she insists on being masked. I’m yet to find out whether it is because of her shyness in front of the camera or because she doesn’t trust me not to use it against her in the future.

I set my new tablet to front camera record. I specifically bought it for the best camera resolution when Tilly wanted to experiment with zoom sex parties, sometime around the second lockdown… something, we gave up too soon unfortunately.

Our old toy box has been gathering dust in the depth of the built-in wardrobe and I have to give it a thorough rummage to find her kitten collar, leash and other things that I hide from her view for now.

I tie her to the chunky, twist-carved leg of the dining table, press record and begin the scene, whispering into her ear how irresistible she looks and how I can’t wait to do very bad things to her.

I set the tablet on the floor, and let her get comfortable with herself on screen while I fetch her bowl and some thick double cream from the fridge. We haven’t done this for a while, but I’ve always loved watching her lapping up the thick white liquid. It turns me on almost as much as...

She dips her tongue into the little pink bowl, testing, tasting her supper. Her cute, perky ass up in the air, swaying slowly in rhythm with the lapping of her tongue. I turn the camera slightly to show her profile. Then unexpectedly, I force her shocked face into the cream, her nose diving to the very bottom of the bowl. “Come on, Kitten, I want you to be greedy, I want to see cream on your nose and whiskers.”

I don’t know what has gotten into me but I push her into it even more, until her nostrils blow little milk bubbles. She doesn’t struggle.

“Did you like that?” She’s not allowed to talk now, so I study her messy face for an answer.

She purrs in a way that resembles the word ‘more’. Therefore, I’m obliged to continue her mistreatment. Her whole face is covered with cream now.

“So dirty.” I lift up the camera and bring it close to her face. “Such a filthy, greedy Kitten.” I lick the cream off her face, her cheek, her trembling lips. “Go on, clean yourself up!” My voice has that condescending edge she loves.

I put the camera back onto the floor and watch as she licks her ‘paw’, rubbing her face clean with it. Kicking her bowl away, I ‘accidentally’ spill a bit on the hardwood floor.

“Clean that up! I want to see a big flat tongue mopping the floor.” She does as she’s told, her face grimacing, her nose twitching, while I check for that likely wet patch on her panties.

“I love how it turns you on, being a dirty Kitten.”

I unclip her leash and lead her to the sofa, placing the tablet on the coffee table. I roll my panties off before getting comfortable sitting down with my legs wide open in front of her face.

“You know what’s next, don’t you, Kitten?” I dip my digits into the leftover cream and draw a line up from my toes to my inner thigh - high enough that her nose can touch my petals, and smell the orchid, stopping short of actually reaching my sweet spot. The sensation of the cold liquid and her soft tongue is heaven on earth. I could do this till the end of times and a lifetime more. She gets me so hot that, if I didn’t have to stand up to do so, I’d open some windows.

Lifting one leg over the other with a gymnast’s flexibility, I dip my toes into the soon to be empty bowl. I use up the rest of the cream to let her suck it off my toes one by one. To tease her further, I paint white trails leading closer and closer to her prize. She ventures further and further north and ‘accidentally’ nuzzles my pussy. Her greediness is a good enough reason to introduce a bit of spanking. But before I stand up, I dip my cream soaked fingers into my running nectar, offering it to my gluttonous pet.

“Is this what you want, my greedy, greedy kitten?”

An ‘mmm’ escapes her mouth and it sounds so much like ‘please’.

“Not yet, hungry one. We’re gonna make you cum for me first.”

Her favourite way to cum is on all fours, tied to some furniture... just like now - and being spanked to orgasm. Well not exactly... her very favourite is actually all that, while having a man’s cock in her mouth. But we can’t have that tonight, can we? A ballgag ‘to chew on’ will have to suffice. I retrieve her favourite butt plug, cane and paddle.

“Remember the last time we played, in the club having that thick cock in your mouth, your nipples being pulled by clamps, while others spank your bottom? It was redder than I’ve ever seen,” I whisper as I draw lines with the cane and pat her legs wide open, rubbing her swollen lips and clit. I really enjoy seeing her with guys – she turns into an insatiable slut. But more than anything, I enjoy how they all lust after her, yet I have the power to draw the line at having a cock in her mouth and nowhere else.

I’m sure she’s re-living those nights, as I paddle her bottoms crimson, alternating between stroking her wet pussy and softly patting it with my fingertips. I keep bringing her to the brink. She usually lasts about 8-10 times until she’s so far gone that no matter how featherlight my touch, she cums regardless - even if I so much as blow on her. She won’t last that long this time, especially me having a couple of fingers in her cunt. Sure enough, I feel her contract around me.

It’s my turn. Tipping the last few drops of cream all over my clean-shaven pussy, I let her have her dessert.

We have completely forgotten about the camera a while ago. It’s probably better that way. When we watch it together later, we are completely taken aback how passionate and raw it is. It has a beautiful mixture of rekindled passion but also shows how comfortable we are with each other. She asks me if she can upload it to her favourite porn site. I smile at her idea, loving her new exhibitionist streak.

The next thing I know; she stands by the bed, the morning light faintly breaking through the blinds, she’s wearing a larger than life grin.

“You want more sex?” I joke. “It’s way too early.”

“You’re not gonna believe this, but we have almost a million views and a cheque for nearly five grand.”

It seems I can pack in my shit job after all!