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Welcome Home.

There is nothing like starting your day with a confirmation that you are indeed meant to be used.
I speak of yesterday, not today though.

I recognize his knock on my door, even when I am asleep and I was really surprised to hear it a full two hours before I expected it. I put down the coffee and went to the door and opened it. It always takes me a minute to find words when I see him, no matter how often I see him. But before I could even attempt at a coherent sentence, he put his finger to my lips.
He did not want my words.
He would not say anything.
I brought him some water and started to remove his shoes once he sat down but he just kicked me away.
I just sat on the floor, curious, looking into his eyes (not to deflect but I find it magical that there is a right moment to look at and a right moment to look away, and we always seem to know which is which) and then he smiled. Once he smiles, I really cant stop myself from smiling so I broke into a vast, 32-teeth smile (if that’s even possible).
Alas, the smile was only to comfort me from what he was to do next; teach me that hair is the new leash.
I cant keep my clothes on in front of him, but I never seem to have to remove them so I have no idea where they had gone when he was tying my hair to the bed-post but I was so glad they had vanished when I felt him climb on top of me.
I love his weight on top of me.
I knew he’d fuck me like he always does. Inconsiderately, ruthlessly, painfully.. I knew he wouldn’t let me cum, in fact, I knew he would be horrified if I even just asked permission but I had been aching for his patented blend of disregard all week.
It was so silent, and I was so dispassionate and he was so detached, like making love to a Japanese love-pillow.
It was so beautiful.
He finished and he got dressed, I watched him do it all like a 14-year old boy watching porn for the first time; feverish and petrified.
He picked up his phone and his keys and walked towards the door, fumbled in his pocket, turned around, flung a Re 1 coin on my stomach and left.
That was a classy touch, might have been classier to drive me to class, asshole.


About ancilla9876

I'm a young, female, Indian submissive and masochist. I am many other things, of course. But this blog mostly deals with the contents of my lede sentence.

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