He drove me back to the hotel and I waited in the car until he indicated that I was allowed to leave, the cold wind was biting as I walked towards the door which, like the gentleman he is, he held open for me. I could feel his breath on my neck as he walked behind me, and I fumbled with the key to open the door.
Once inside the room , I could feel him checking it out, he always accuses me of leaving a trail of belongings like flotsam on the beach. a slight "hmmm" was all he said, and I thought I had tried so hard to leave it tidy!
I stood and waited....................and waited........................and waited.
He sat in a chair and looked at me, I could just see the corner of his mouth curling up, smiling to himself. My heart was pounding, the memory of him forcing his fingers in my cunt under the table, his eyes on me.
So I removed my clothes, folded them and left them on the floor beside me.
I smiled, its the closest he gets to calling me anything, when he calls me slave ad it always fills me with happiness.
I knelt on the floor, the carpet soft under my knees, better than the hard wooden floor I have become so used to.
"Come to me slave."
And so I crawled, naked, across the floor towards him, my eyes locked onto his, draw by our bond, by my longing to be able to touch him, to be near him.
I knelt between his legs, my hands on my lap, looking into his beautiful blue eyes and I was filled with such contentment, such overwhelming happiness and a sense of being "home".
His hands reached down to me; one on my back and the other in my hair, and he pulled me onto his lap.
His strong arms wrapped around me and he pulled me close to him I wrapped my arms round his neck and laid my head on his shoulder.
"Welcome home slave"