He was coming. He was coming to visit her. Her heart and pussy fluttered in unison at the very thought of His arrival.
She had been given her strict instructions. The necessary preperations she was to undertake in preparing for His arrival.
The items she had been told to have she carefully laid out on her bed. The black silk scarf that had such an exotic touch when run across her skin it was all she could do not to throw herself down and make herself cum while running it around her body. The slutty fishnet stockings that she had a love/hate relationship with. Her mother had always told her women who wear those are whores, sluts, bad women who had no taste or class. The thin lace suspender belt which she knew would be a nightmare to assemble. She could not remember the last time she had worn one.
Then the other clothes the short black skirt that would reveal her stocking tops standing up never mind if she had to sit or He asked her to bend over.. She shivered.. The white blouse with buttons running down the front, two buttons he had told her, so she had removed all but the two buttons that would secure it around her bust.
No underwear, no bra or panties.. sluts did not wear underwear He said.
She carefully returned her items to the wardrobe, hiding them in a dark bag at the bottom. She lived alone, knew no one would see them but their very presence aroused her intensely with a nuance of delectable fear.
She took a deep breath and tried to calm her mind and body, she was not allowed to cum. That was His choice to make when He thought she had earned the right. The moisture forming between her legs began to leak out onto her panties..
She swiftly left the room, shaking her head of the erotic images and anticipation..
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