Chasing Me Chasing You

An uncollared submissive struggling through depression, motherhood, and the constant craving of her next orgasm.

Lent is Rough

Giving up coffee. It seemed a good idea at the time. I put a lot of creamer in it, and even using the fat free stuff isn’t good for my calorie count. However, after only a week, my caffeine headaches are excruciating and I am constantly falling asleep at my desk. My secretary has no reason to come into my office every hour to bring me another cup, and she’s probably happy to avoid me in my cranky state. As some consolation after a week long business trip, D was back in town and we were going out to dinner. How was I going to make it through the cab ride without drifting off? Maybe he’ll let me order dessert; tiramisu wouldn’t be cheating if I don’t drink it.

D called as I left the office.

“Hey Slut.” He’s so charming sometimes.

“Hi. I assume you made it home okay?” Another headache was starting behind my right eye, but I was determined to keep moving and stay upbeat.

“I swear I forget how much I despise airports between these trips, otherwise I would remember to turn them down. Looking forward to a night with you though. We have a reservation at Crave, I thought it was apt. You will wear something tight, either black or red, surprise me.”

“Yes, Sir.” Just the motivation I needed. Two aspirin and I would be good to go.

“Meet you there at eight. And you are staying at mine tonight. I need more than just a public bathroom romp to help me get passed all those layovers.” His voice was serious, but I could hear the grin.

“Yes, Sir.”

“God, I missed you. See you in a bit.”

“Missed you too, D. See you soon.”

I dropped my purse and keys on the table as I walked into my apartment and ran to my bedroom. I had two hours to shower, slip into something sexy and throw a pair of clean undies into my purse for the morning. Or maybe I would just not wear panties tomorrow, or tonight for that matter. Seemed like a good idea to me, and I’m all about less laundry. That left me plenty of time if I didn’t sit down and my phone didn’t ring. But, with no coffee in my system, not sitting became impossible. Luckily my sexy red dress had matching flats so I could run to a taxi.

“You looked flushed. Wet for me already?” D looked great in a charcoal suit with a red tie. He knew, given the option, that red would beat black in my wardrobe.

“This coffee thing is killing me.” He laughed as we sat down. He was always supportive of health kicks, but I think that was only because they rotated constantly.

Dinner was rushed as we both tried our best to keep each other’s clothes on. Dessert was skipped, so I couldn’t try out my tiramisu plan. Honestly, he had me so worked up by the time I finished my steak that I didn’t care. Caffeine was apparently secondary to horniness.

The cab ride to his place was quick and we were soon in his apartment, shoes and outerwear off before the door was even closed.

“Strip.” He removed his tie and headed down the hall. He returned moments later with the remote for the stereo in one hand, and his toy bag in the other. I kneeled, naked and waiting for further instruction. God, I had missed this.

“Crawl your whore self over here so I can decorate you.” I moved quickly, my speed rewarded by a nod and a smile when I sat back on my knees in from of him. He kept his eyes on me as his hand searched through his bag, pulling out a riding crop and my favorite collar. He opened the collar and raised his eyebrow at me. I shifted closer and leaned my head down so he could secure it around my neck. I flipped my hair back and smiled demurely up at him. He grabbed it and yanked me between his legs.

“I missed my little plaything. Have you been good while I’ve been gone?”

“Yes, Sir. I missed you too.” I was grinning like a school girl that had just been given a pony for her birthday. I leaned back on my heels as he unzipped his pants. I didn’t care if I looked too eager, he had been gone for ten days, a girl can only take so much. I practically ripped his cock out of his boxers and started stroking and licking it with abandon. He leaned back on the couch and grabbed my hair. I was in for a lovely evening.

*                        *                        *                           *

 “You like that? Your holes filled by me.” All I could do was moan. “You are such a dirty slut.”

This time I could manage a, “Yes, Sir.” But the moans resumed almost immediately. Encouraged more by his own added moans and grunts. At this point all conversation stopped. Aside from some amazingly juicy thrusts and his thumb pushing further into my ass, sounds were reserved to more moans until, in a wave of quivering orgasms we collapsed on the rug.

*                         *                        *                            *

“Ms. Samuels? Ms. Samuels?”
“What? Yes, sorry? Oh, gosh sorry. Was I asleep?” I pulled a post-it note off my face.
“I believe so.” Trish’s smile kept getting bigger.
“Oh no, was I snoring?”
“More like moaning.”
“Oh, God.”
“Yes, like that”. I shot my face up in horror as I saw her smile and turn to leave my office. “I have a Mr. Derek Edwards on line two, when you are ready. Would you like a cup of coffee?”

I only banged my head on the desk twice before answering the phone.

This is an entry for Charlie Powell’s competition on the theme of giving something up. She is accepting entries until April 2nd. Please consider reading the other entries and writing one of your own. 



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