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I am sitting
on my heels, and my knees are spread wide, leaving me feeling vulnerable,
unprotected - and almost breathless with anticipation. I can feel cool
air stimulate my nipples and the tender flesh between my legs. A wave of
sweet weakness washes over me, and I am grateful not to be standing.
As I wait in silence, I touch the palm of my hands to my nipples, which instantly begin hardening in response. A stern voice rings out, "Who gave you permission to do that?" Startled, I drop my hands to my thighs. He is standing in the doorway, observing me sternly. He continues, saying, "Behind your back, my dear. That's a good girl." |