Her day begins before mine -- but then, it's not mine. It's
her
day, like that. She slips out of bed and dons her gear. She's not worried she'll wake me. I half-pretend she didn't. My passivity is what's important.
She slips back in the bed. From the waist up, she becomes the big spoon. Her nipples rub against my back. Her lips brush against my neck. I wish her arms were wrapped around my body, but her hands are busy elsewhere. I swear that I can feel it through the mattress we both lay upon -- the preparation. Her cock has no blood rushing through it, but I feel the heat of her sex just behind and below it, and I imagine it's emanating from that long, thick, perfectly-shaped slab of purple silicone.
"Good morning, baby," she whispers to me. "You're so soft, and so smooth. You're so pretty in your panties. You're getting me so hot."
My cock is straining in my purple bikinis. I let her kisses and licks dictate my wordless responses. I sigh, huff, moan, and even squeak. She has to seduce me, but I'm easy. That's the deal.
Her hands finally find my nipples, and I feel the residual slickness from the lube. My lips part. I feel her smile next to my ear.
"Baby likes that," she says. "Are you going to be a good girl for me? Are you going to let me make you feel good?"
I offer up the merest hint of resistance. She overcomes it with a nibble on my lobe, and a small whimper of disappointment. She's horny. She needs to fuck me. I'm being a big baby. I always end up liking it.
I shift my hips. She inhales sharply, and I feel the smile again -- widening eyes, too. I wish I could see them. They're so vibrant, and they flash whenever she gets what she wants, or is about to. Her whole face lights up. She sparkles. I live for it, and she knows it. She only abuses it a little.
Right now, it's more important that she be completely in charge, and that I be completely vulnerable. Not being able to see her is part of that. We're perfectly positioned to start her day.
Once the panties come off, I'll be defenseless. She doesn't rush, but she lets me know she wants to. Her hands slide down and find the waistband. I shift again, and lift. They slip down to my knees. Her hands go back to her cock. I curl up a little more, lining myself up to be her girl. I've already accepted it, but I can still pretend to be nervous. I imagine her face again. This time, there's something new. She tries to mask it, but can't -- not fully. It's predatory, pre-satisfied. We both know she's the stud. We both know I'm the bitch. She pretends to love it. I pretend not to.
My cock shrinks, but I'm hornier than ever. My masculinity melts into femininity, flowing into my throbbing hole and aching P-spot. Her finger and the lube are both cool. I like it. I'm just lucky that way, I guess.
The finger does its work and then departs. The slick, purple head finds its target. The moment arrives, and we perform for each other. I act like her cock is overwhelming me; she acts likes she knows how my well-trained rings and slutty ass feel all around it. I hope she actually does feel good; it is an excellent harness.
I let my hands drift to my cock. When she's all the way inside of me, her hands brush over my hips and then meet mine.
