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Still drowsing, feeling warm and cosy in bed, I listen to you getting ready to go out. I hear you showering. Imagine soaping you myself, mmmh, a little fantasy of joining you.
I’d slip into the bathroom, slip out of my clothes and slip into the shower with you. Cover my hands in soap, turn off the water and get to work, spreading it over your chest. Slick and sudsy. Rubbing and stroking until the lather drips down over your body. My hands would follow the lather down, circling around your tummy, over the tops of your thighs, I’d press my wet naked self against you, while I stroke your ass. Then some special attention for your cock, lighter strokes, until you groan. And after we wash all the soapsuds from you, I suppose it’s only fair, if I slip to my knees. Mmmh.
Your phone rings, dragging me out of my dick sucking fantasy. You say a few words. I can’t make them out, but your timbre and your tone are good, intimate and soothing in my drowsy state. Then I hear you grabbing your keys, the front door opening and closing.
Snuggling down, I turn on my side, and wanting sleep to take me just for a few more minutes, I switch my thoughts back to my shower fantasy. Ahh bliss.
The bedroom door opens so quietly, I almost miss it. Sitting up, expecting, hoping to see you, I’m astonished to find that it’s him. His name pours out of my mouth in an excited rush, far too loud in the quiet room. I shake my head at him.
“What?” I say.
“Shhh,” he says, unzipping his coat, his dark eyes glittering beautifully in the dimness of the room. He looms over me, huge and shadowy. My phone pings; a message from you. I hear your car setting forth as I open it.
“Surprise, love. Don’t you dare come without me. See you soon.”
A Viking
He slips his coat down his arms, and I struggle with my duvet wanting to hug him. I need to touch him to know he’s real, that he’s really here. I’m feeling stupified, I can’t process thought. I make it to my knees on the bed, grinning my stupidity at him. As usual, he isn’t smiling.
“Wait, be still,” he says.
Uhh the familiarity of his voice, the richness and depth of it floor me, and I do as he bids me, becoming still. Just waiting on my knees in one of your old T-shirts in the middle of the bed. Oh, how hot is that? That he’s instructing me immediately. Yes, I’m loving the feeling of being good, of obeying him. Can’t stop grinning.
He strips off his shirt and jeans, and drops them on the chair under the window. Then his underwear and socks are discarded. He stands there looking at me kneeling where I am, and I take him in, drink him in, this nude nordic specimen of a man.
He is standing in front of the mirrored wardrobe doors. I’m greedy, I look to his reflection, see his broad back, his shoulders, his ass and those powerful wide thighs beneath. He is enormous. And not for the first time, I think of vikings though it might be the first time I’m sharing this with him, for I know he will read this blog post once it’s up. And now I’m blushing typing up this memory, imagining his reaction.
He is so insanely tall though, he doesn’t quite have to duck to go through doorways, but it always looks close from my wholly average height of 164cm. He’s not slim, and has been known to use his weight to fabulous, hot advantage at times. Uhh, I find it so mind-boggling that this powerful, giant-like man is attracted to me. Orders me around. Teases me. Fucks me, and occasionally spanks me. He makes me feel small and doll-like next to him, and it’s a dynamic that I just love. Oh, how it melts me.
His dick is hardening. Mmmh.
A Carress
“Come here,” he says.
And I scramble ungracefully on my knees over to him. He takes my hands and helps me off the bed. And standing in front of him, that size-kink I seem to be suffering from hits me again with all the force of a wrecking-ball. Something in my eyes gives me away and some zinging electricity passes between us, prickling me deliciously.
We’re staring at each other. A shaft of early morning sun is casting a line of light down the left side of my body, and I see tiny bright pin-points of dust suspended in the beam. His scent caresses my senses, his cologne, a slight hint of him underneath. I grin up at him and he lets my hands go, causing the dust to dance.
I wonder that he’s not touching me. He’s always been so hard for me to read, his face so often serious. It hits me all at once that he’s unsure of himself.
We’ve all been together recently of course, a beautiful weekend of tender reunion. But, it’s been a very long time since it was just him and me. I wonder if he is afraid of taking the step. I take his right hand between both of mine and raise it to my lips. I study it, this enormous hand I know so well, then deposit kisses on the tips of each of his fingers, one by one. Gazing up into his eyes again, I lay the gentlest of kisses in the palm of his hand and I smile.
“It’s okay,” I whisper, breaking the silence in the room. And I bring his hand up to my cheek, place it there and stroke myself into another caress, this one real, and truly gentle.
He looks at me a beat longer then raises his left hand to my neck, rests his thumb against my jaw, then strokes it up over my cheek and I close my eyes, just feeling. His breath teases me, and I can feel the warmth of his lips close to mine. Opening my eyes again, I touch his chin with my fingertips, inviting him further. Anticipating the tenderness of a kiss. But instead, he surprises me.
A Bird
Uuuh, his thumb pushes into my mouth, and his teeth find my neck. His beard, shorter than it used to be, prickles my skin and then he’s licking, breathing, teasing and nibbling, and my nipples are suddenly rock solid. Ah his thumb. This feeling. I love it so much. All I want to do is press myself against him. He holds my head steady in his hands, while he ravishes me from shoulder to ear and I’m getting hotter, and fuck yeah, wet and messy.
Oh, his breath in my ear, it’s more than I can bear! Ever the subtle one, I fumble for his dick, want to stroke him. I want to drop to my knees right there and worship him with my mouth. Take him in deeply, to feel his dick choking me. To tease him, edge him, torture him until he can’t bear it and oh, he takes my head and fucks my mouth, hard. Mmmh.
He lets me go and pushes me away a little. A slight shake of his head, and he does that thing with his eyebrow. I’m grinning again, flung back into our sordid past, memories hot and clamoring. Being commanded by him, owned by him. Being his doll.
He looks down at your T-shirt and I don’t need to be told. I pull it over my head, and his gaze roves over my knicker-clad body, my thighs, hips, belly and tits. He looks so hungry, I glance in the mirror to see what he sees, half expecting my tits to have grown, but it’s just me I see, half lit by the morning light. When I look back, he is staring into my eyes again.
He leans down, places my arms around his neck and then he’s boosting me up.
I wrap my legs around him, and he has his hands under my ass, holding me against him. Only my knickers saving my modesty. We’re looking directly at each other now and for the first time today, he smiles at me.
“Hello, little bird,” he says.
His voice is quiet, hypnotic and oh, so intimate.

