Like A Feather/This I Swear

What follows are two scenes from the life of The Lady (aka moi) and Himself….

~

Like A Feather

I’ve brought a new plaything over. Unlike many of my playthings, it is both fucking massive and wrapped in pink wrapping paper. It is a hindrance from the time I leave the house to the moment I step over Himself’s threshold.

Mainly because my regular Tube connection is peckered this weekend. Therefore I find myself taking a bus, a different tube line and a train. Luckily, I arrive to the lovely surprise of Himself waiting for me on the platform.

I fall into his arms and hold him, just to reaffirm to myself that I haven’t made him up. We decide on getting food, and just as we leave the station, he asks me the inevitable.

“What’s that?”

“It’s a feather.”

“Oh. Okay.”

He knows what it is. It’s a tickle feather. A massive purple tickle feather I bought on a whim at Sh! the other day. Why did I bring it?

No, I have no idea either.

A while later. We’re on his bed.

“You promised me a backrub.”

“Alright.”

He gets out babyoil (Johnsons, natch) and a towel and strips to his nuddyness. And like the expert that I am not, I massage/get Johnsons all over his backside. But he seems to like it, which is a good thing.

Suddenly, an idea manifests.

And the little demon comes out in me.

I take the feather out and start stroking him. And I stroke him to the point of near-insanity. I watch him get hard, and fuck it, it gets me off as well.

“Such a tease. So hard. So…”

I stroke. I tease. I blow, only briefly. This is great! I like teasing him! I can keep this up for hours!

“Please say stop.”

“Stop!”

I throw the feather away and nearly rip my top off.

“I thought you’d NEVER ask!”

And our bodies clash in a frantic expression of just how turned on we both are.

It’s really swell.

~

This I Swear
We’re in his kitchen. His mother is baking a cake and reading a book on her Kindle at the same time. If nothing else, she’s excellent at this multi-tasking shit.

H is drinking coffee and talking to Mamma Himself. Himself himself is making pasta bake.

And I sit back in my chair and momentarily lose myself in the bliss that is this scene. The man I burned for for so long sneaks over and gives me a cuddle. It’s perfection.

And this I swear. This I swear with all my heart.

I love this man. And no matter what lies ahead, no matter what happens, I will always do.

This I swear.

 

xoxo The Lady.

 

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2 Comments

  1. The feather thing is hot.

    The second story is hotter.

    Respect.

    Reply

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