Throwing open the door in a chaotic whirl of giggles, I stumble into our apartment with the usual grace I'm known to lack. Ditching my jacket on the nearest chair, I rush to greet you with cheerful gin-flavored kisses. Bubbly, I ramble on about happy hour with the girls, stroking your back as I have yet to break our embrace. Slowly, I notice the mischievous twinkle in your eye and wry grin as my story trails off and chest tightens.
"Go on, Angel," you say through that smirk and my knees weaken. Angel, that's your special name for me... I know what's coming next. Or, rather, I don't. But surprise is always delicious. "Oh, It was just great catching up with the girls!" I respond, as I start to blush.
"You were good?" You ask. "Perfect, I'm always good for you, my love." I say, because I am. You're all a think about. "Do you need to do anything before we begin?" Always so considerate and thoughtful. "No, Sir."
"Knees." You only need the one word as I obey, sinking in front of you, still in my heels and flirty little dress. Maintaining eye contact, I look up at you, waiting for your next request, heart pounding in my chest, tipsy grin of anticipation. You reach into your pocket and I hear the gentle jingle of the buckle as you pull out my collar and fasten it around my throat.