Not entirely. The offspring have all gone in separate directions, leaving P and I alone. Almost as soon as the door closed, he started dropping hints that I was in for an interesting evening. After I cooked dinner, he looked at me and said "When the children are gone, I see no reason for you to be wearing clothing, unless you're cooking."
Years ago, in the dark ages before we actually met, he had told me I would not be allowed to wear clothing except at his discretion. It was a wonderful fantasy; one that was less than practical with kids about during the daytime hours.
So now, I sit in my knitting chair, almost naked (it is a little chilly, so I'm allowed a robe over my shoulders and back. And I sit here, wondering and thinking what plans he has for the evening. I know they include the woven leather belt he's draped over the back of the couch, but what else I have no idea.
He knows that sitting here with my nipples hard must be driving me crazy. I'm glad for the robe to sit on too; otherwise the chair will need spotbot treatment! He's across the room, ignoring me, knowing I'm only going to get hotter and wetter the longer he makes me wait. I know it will be worth it.
