Good girl

The story of my evening with Rose and Penelope, told in reverse. We’re at the part where Penelope walks through the door.

Sofia walks into the room dressed as I’ve instructed, and I’m not ready to use her — not yet.

A fantasy I might just make real.

The complicated power of two little words I can type but can barely bring myself to say.

I want thirty more minutes of her time, and I know exactly how I want her to spend them.

Angela slipped off her panties at dinner with clients because I told her to. Then she came for me. Listen.

Forgot my wallet, made her pay for everything, collared her at the bar, and lost count of her orgasms at Le Trapeze. Not very dom-ly — except for the parts that were.

Our relationship had become three-dimensional, and fucking was off the table. I was damned if I was going to let that stop me.

You’ve heard it before. But you’re wet, and you’re dressed as I asked, and you don’t see me yet.

The final installment of this particular fantasy — in which she finally gets the words right.