Once a fantasy, once a reality, now a memory.
This will be cut for those of you at work, because this is going to be graphic in nature. It will also probably be rather lengthy.
I am simply describing what I miss most about my relationship with Master, now that we cannot see each other for a summer. I'm sure some of you can empathize with this fantasy/reality/memory and I just thought I'd put it out there. Perhaps thinking about it in such detail will make me miss Master less, even if just for the time I am writing it.
I wake up next to Master at the alarm clock before my first class. We are both naked beneath the sheets and blankets. He is so warm and I cuddle close to him. I place my right hand over the middle of his chest, feeling his confident breaths, and the strength of his heart. I am laying on my side, pressing myself against him softly but firmly. Some mornings I wish I could just melt into him, and become part of the wonderful person that he is. I really love him. He's so precious to me.
I begin to nuzzle him softly, dropping kisses on his neck, nibbling a bit too. I rub my hand up and down on his chest gently. Occasionally I will use my nails to scritch-scratch at his chest, but not enough to truly hurt. I know he has heard the alarm go off as well, and he is not completely asleep. But I don't want him to have to wake to a screeching mechanical noise each morning. I want him to wake to soft touches, kisses, his kitten, his Koshachka ready to serve him. I want him to wake to love and the submission that comes from it. I want him to wake to be contented, regardless of what the rest of the day may hold.
I whisper to him, "Shower with me?", sometimes I add "Sir" or "Master", but not every morning does he wake up in his role. We are not yet 24/7, and while I am always ready (and trying!) to submit to his wishes and happiness, he does not always want to be called Sir or Master. He nods yes, or says "Alright." And I hug him, "I love you Osito", which is my pet name for him.
Osito means little bear. It's derived from the spanish word Oso, which means bear. To add "ito" in the case of a male object or person, means to give affection to that object or person. And he is indeed my little bear. Little is an endearment, not a measurement! To me, he is larger than life. He is strong, overwhelmingly exquisite, furry in places (tee hee!) and he's got a growl that can send shivers down my spine. (Should I even joke that he's hung like a bear? ::giggles:: I couldn't help it. )
We wrap up in a blanket, as we have housemates who, I'm sure, don't want to see us naked and we walk to the shower. I drop my blanket, and if his is separate, I go to him and unwrap him from his. If on the off chance that we actually wore pajamas to bed, I will undress him carefully.
Once we are naked and standing in the bathroom, sometimes he will take me and kiss me. Other times he walks around behind me, and instructs me to close my eyes. I feel his hands begin to wander across my flesh. I get goosebumps, and shiver. He squeezes my breasts, and plays with my nipples so that they become hard. It is now when I feel truly awake. Sometimes he will kiss my shoulder, or tear into my neck with his teeth--I truly melt when he does this, and when it happens even complete and total surrender doesn't seem to be enough. I want to give him the world, offer it up to him as I kneel at his feet, stretching my arms and my offering palms up to him.
Then he releases me, leaving my body electric and buzzing, and says "Draw my bath, slut." Which, truly is a pet name for me as well. I love being his slut. At other times he will say "Ready, honey?" Which is when I know he is not up for being Dominant with me, but I persist in my submissive nature. It's part of me, it's who I am, and those who know about my sexual preferences, see it carried over into all other parts of my life, even if it is subtle. I cannot help it. The want to please and serve others carries over to most aspects of my life.
I stand in front of the tub, and bend not from my knees, but from my waist. I want to give him a sight that will wake him up, that will please him. I always feel sexy--something that is very hard for me--when he is watching. Under his eyes I am transformed into a beautiful creature, my curves become perfect, my flaws melt away, and I feel truly and utterly gorgeous.
At times he will spank me as "punishment", though it is not hard enough to be truly scolding; he knows I like to be spanked like this. Just a few slaps, to leave just light red marks upon my ass. Or at others, he will carress my buttocks so gently, that the anticipation inside me rises at a right I cannot understand or control. Sometimes his hands run the curves of my ass, the length of my back and will reaech around to give my breasts a playful squeeze or my nipples a teasing pinch.
I stand once I've turned the faucet water warm enough, and flipped the "switch" (I guess you would call it) so that the water pours out of the shower head, rather than the faucet. I open the shower curtain for him. He steps in, and I wait until he invites me in either with his motions, or with his voice.
I get wet under the shower first, because I have more to do in the shower than he, and we want to get the technical parts over the fastest. He gazes at me when I wash my hair, I feel consumed by his eyes. I blush almost constantly some mornings. His attention washes over me, and I want him so badly. Most of the time I am not to touch him before my hair and face are washed. I wash my body quickly.
Now is my favorite part. We switch places, and he gets under the shower. I run my fingers through his hair. I massage his scalp, I rub his neck and shoulders. When he allows me, I kiss him wherever I can. I grab the bar soap and begin to lather him everywhere. I am careful not to drop the soap when he is in his dominant role, although mistakes are made, and I am spanked from the time I bend down to pick the soap up, to the time when I start again. If I become flustered at the spankings, it will take me longer, and things will only get worse. I apologize to him for dropping the soap. "I am sorry Master." And he replies either with "Oh, you'll be sorry slut." or "It's alright, my slut."
I left his arms one at a time with one hand, and soap them up with the other hand. I wash his back, his chest, his ass, his legs, his feet, and his cock. I spend extra time and special attention when washing his cock. I like to make it hard when he will let me. After his groin is slippery with soap and warm water, I put the soap down and use only hands. My fingers slip and slide, up and down, I imagine my fingers are dancing pleasure into his body. He grows larger and larger, getting harder and hard. I cup and massage his balls softly, I am not going to be negligent to washing any part of him, and not ignore any part of him simply because I am turned on so much when I get to wash his cock and balls. My fingers play softly in his pubic hair, washing it too. I am on my knees in front of him, in the shower when I wash this area of his body. I get my eyes as close as possible so I can observe each part of him carefully, notice even his smallest reactions. I want to see how much I am pleasing him.
When he tells me it is enough, or when I cannot take it any longer, I reach for the shower head, which is detachable, and I rinse him off, still caressing over his cock, lingering on the head, cupping and rubbing his balls ever so gently--I don't want to leave any soap there.
I look up at him, asking with my eyes if I can take him into my mouth. I want so badly to suckle upon him. I want to run my tongue around his cock while my lips are wrapped tightly around it. I want to lick at him, and kiss his balls, tease them, fondle them. I want to work to get my lips at the base of his cock, where his pubic hairs tickle my nose, no matter how hard it is for me. I love the taste of his flesh in my mouth. I love the texture, size and hardness of his cock. I love knowing he is reacting to my attempts to serve and please him. I bob up and down on his hardness, impaling my mouth on his cock. I swirl my tongue around the head of his cock, I caress the length of him with my tongue while my lips suckle.
When he comes, he pulls out of my mouth, and I blush scarlet red beneath the snow of white spatters that hits my face. Kneeling before him, my blushing cheeks drenched in his cum, looking shyly down, stealing only a glance or two up at him--I cannot help it. I feel at the same time small and intimidated, as well as gifted to recieve such attention and honor as his gaze bestows upon me. He gently washes his cum away when he is done watching me.
"Did you like that slut?"
"Yes Master."
"You like feeling Master's cum all over you don't you?"
"Yes, very much so, Master."
"Good. Because this will be happening a lot."
"Thank you Master."
And I wash my face with soap once more. I put conditioner in my hair, and as I am doing these things to finish up my actual shower, he takes this opportunity to caress me, tease me, play with me. All of this just sets me on fire inside. The whole time I have been burning with desire. I want to feel him inside me so badly. I want to feel that hardness between a different set of lips now, and I know I shall have to ask, and possibly beg for it, but in the mornings, there is usually no time for it before class. He kisses me, and I turn off the water.
I get out of the shower, and reach for his towel. I dry him off, face, neck, back, arms, legs, feet. Inch by inch, thoroughly as I can. Then I wrap his towel about him, and move aside so he may step out of the shower.
I dry myself off. We go back to our room and get dressed, gather our books and head off for class.
This is something that started on my initiative. One day I just started washing him. Slowly it evolved into this. It was almost every day we showered together, and at least 4 times a week that this happened in the shower. I love it, and I cannot wait for it to happen again.