Task at hand

LAST DAY OF NaNo: 1435 words. That’s all folks!

She rose from bed before the alarm sounded, turning it off before it would wake him. His soft breathing, slow and even, and the warmth of his body threatened to lull her back to sleep. She settled for wrapping herself around him for the briefest of moments before creeping out of bed.

It was way past time to start her morning.

She moved to the bathroom, shedding her thin nightgown on the floor. Cleaning would come shortly so leaving it on the floor made no difference. She mentally reviewed her list of morning tasks as she pulled out a few fresh towel and placed them both on the heated rack. His razor was already out on the counter so she simply placed his shaving cream and his toothbrush beside it. His morning grooming routine was easy to make ready.

Steam filled the whole room as she turned the hot water. Stepping in, she let the water stream over her skin and knock the last of the sleep out of her mind. She shaved away any stubble under her arms and off her legs, and took special care with her mons and along her labia. When she was as smooth as she could get, and the water started to run cool, she stepped out to towel off.

She had twenty minutes until he was due to wake. Wrapping her towel around her torso, she padded back into the dark bedroom and made her way to closet. She could still hear his even breathing so she stepped in and shut the closet door behind her before turning on the light.

He was as simple with his style as he was with his grooming. His clothing was very nice, all of it tailored to fit and give him a feeling of success. She tried to choosing an outfit that reflected that particular drive.

A medium blue button down with a black tie paired with some dark wash straight leg jeans that still looked professional. She found his comfortable, but classy loafers, and then exited with closet with her picks. She left them laying on her side of the bed, hoping he’d be satisfied.

Returning to the bathroom, she discarded her towel in the laundry and gathered up any clothing that had made there way onto the tiled floor.

She left the room naked, her nipples peaking at the chill in the house. No sense adjusting the heat as she’d grow warm soon enough.

She deposited the laundry in the washroom so she could get breakfast started. Even though these were tasks she performed for him every day, she still double checked her list to make sure there wasn’t a step she was missing.

Five minutes until his alarm went off.

He made mention of pancakes so she whipped together the batter, letting the griddle get hot beside her. Before she placed the first ladleful of the batter down, she heard the shower come on. She filled the griddle quickly, flipping and plating the pancakes when they were golden brown.

The shower stopped and then there was silence. She knew his routine well enough that she could see him moving around the bedroom in her mind’s eye. Her heart rate sped up as she anticipated his entering the kitchen.

She cooked and plated some bacon, then poured him juice. Real maple syrup as was his preference sat beside the fluffy stack. There was already fruit on the table so she knelt beside the door, waiting patiently.

It was several long minutes of her kneeling there on the tiled floor. Her heart had returned to a normal pace, but her cunt had already started responding to his anticipated presence. She was ready for him in all the ways he required of her. Eager, hungry for more than just food.

The soft tread of his feet on the carpet outside the arch of the kitchen door reached her ears mere seconds before he appeared. He’d gone with her selection. He normally did, but she always got a flutter of happiness that he liked what she chose.

“Good morning, my love.”

“Good morning, Sir.” She was a quivering mess, but greeted him like she wasn’t eager for his touch.

His hand rested on her head for moment. He stroked the strands gently before beckoning her to the usual spot beside his chair. She followed after him on her knees, sitting on the cushion he pulled from the cabinet.

He took a big whiff of the pancakes and sighed. He settled in, grabbing his fork and knife before glancing down at her.

“I’ll have my breakfast before it gets cold.”

She knew what the meant and moved under the table to place herself between his spread thighs. The clean sent of his clothing and his natural smell reached her nose. Getting his cock out of the tight jeans took a little work, but she was motivated by time and her burgeoning need.

He was barely free of his jeans and she was sucking him down to the root. It wasn’t clear if his moan was because it was his first bite or the feeling of her mouth on him. All that matter was having every bit of his come for breakfast.

“Keep me clean today. Fill your belly full of my come and don’t spill a single drop.”

His every word was infused with control. Only her moans around him and the scrape of utensils on ceramic filled the room. She doubled her efforts determined to make him come.

“That’s it,” he murmured, his hand reaching under to hold the back of her head when she sank down in him again.

He pumped his hips, fucking her throat with slow deliberate thrust. She tried to breathe, fought her gag reflex even as tears dropped from her eyes.

“Oh, yes. You’ve been a very good girl and very good girls always get nice things.”

His low groan was her warning. She braced her hands on his shins and swallowed each blast even as he held her head tight to his groin.

When he finished, his hand relaxed to stroke her hair again. She gasped and licked her lips, trying to catch her breath even as her cunt throbbed with need.

“Come sit beside me, my love. You may come, but I want to see you do it.”

She scrambled out, desperate and knowing she’d come the second she touched herself. She sat on her pillow, parted her thighs so he could see, and set about fingering her cunt. He continued eating, but his eyes were riveted on her fingers.

“I’ll have to fuck my good girl before I leave, won’t I? I can’t just leave her so empty.”

Her panting breath made replying impossible.

“Fuck her and fill her with more come so she walks around leaking it from her cunt as she works.”

His words were low and hypnotic. She was on the very edge.

“That hot, wet, tight cunt will grip me like your mouth did. A belly full of come and my spunk on your thighs.”

She tossed her head and fucked herself.

“Come for me now, good girl.” The silverware clattered on the plate. “Come for me so I can fuck you before work.”

Oh God. She was coming before he finished demanding it.

She was still shuddering when he hauled her to her feet and draped her over the kitchen table. He was thrusting into her spasming body as though he hadn’t just come. This was rougher, far less controlled than moments before. She simply held on, shuddering in a prolonged high that threatened to send her into subspace.

He growled this time when he came, his hands a near painful grip on her hips. She’d have his hand prints and a bruise from the table.

The warmth of his come was such a lovely feeling. She sighed softly as it leaked out from where they joined to run down her thighs.

He separated them slowly, carefully as to not get anything on his clothes. She stayed where she was too tired to move.

His hand stroked down her back. “I want you to nap today, my love. You’ve not rested enough lately.”

“Yes, Sir.”

A plate with two pancakes and bacon appeared in front of her face.

“Eat your breakfast first.” She felt his lips on her nape and then again on the spots on her hips where his hands had gripped her tight. “I want a report of your day.”

This time she simply nodded. More come dribbled down her thigh and she gave another dreamy smile.

A view of Cara’s bottom in a barely there black thong in post titled Task at hand


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