It’s definitely happening on my part, and I’m fairly certain Lexi’s been there for a while. I should keep the boundaries clear. This is an arrangement, not a relationship. She’s my plaything. That’s the way I like things.
My body refuses to move, though. I love being here with her far too much. There’s something so refreshing about Lexi. She’s genuine. Honest.
She runs her perfect salon nails up my back again. “It’s nice to wake up with you.” There’s a shyness in her voice that makes me want to reassure her.
“Yeah. I like it, too.” I roll on top of her and kiss her neck. “You’re special, Lex. I really like you.”
“Youlikeme?” She pushes me away with a playfully exaggerated sense of offense. “And spanking me is a sign of your love, right?”
“Uh oh.” I sit up and drag her over my lap. “You’re not sulking are you?” I deliver a flurry of spanks on her beautiful backside, loving the way her cheeks flatten and spring back under my palm.
“Ack! No!” She reaches back to protect herself.
I lean over and kiss one cheek, then the other, then I release her. “Good,” I say. “Because that would tell me you need more.”
She blinks those beautiful baby blues at me. I love the way she trains them on me, completely surrendered, attuned to my mood, my commands. She’s a perfect submissive.
“What do you like for breakfast?” She rolls away and climbs off the bed.
I turn lazily to watch her. “Want to go out for something? What time do you work?”
“Not until eleven. But I want to make you breakfast. What do you eat?”
Aw, damn.She wants to make me breakfast.I can’t stop the broad smile from stretching across my face. As much as I like being in charge, being in control, it’s damn refreshing to be with someone who wants to do something for me, andnotjust because I told her to.
“Anything you’re making, sugar.”
“You’re easy? No diet restrictions? Anything you hate?”
“Nope. Bring it on. You make it, I’ll eat it.”
She throws on a short robe and bounces off, looking enthusiastic.
I find my way to the shower, still groggy from lack of sleep and the relaxation of good sex just a few hours before. I didn’t arrive until after three a.m., and then we spent another hour making love. Well, maybeloveisn’t the right term for what we did. But the after-effects sure as hell feel like love.
I take a long shower. When I get out, I smell bacon and something savory. After dressing, I head into the kitchen. “Whatcha making?” I wrap my arms around her from behind.
“I made a goat cheese, mushroom and asparagus frittata, with bacon on the side.”
“No shit.” I’m impressed. “I didn’t know you cooked.’
She flashes her model-perfect smile, beaming. “I would’ve made you coffee, but I haven’t figured out your fancy espresso machine yet.”
“Aw, sweetheart. You should’ve asked me sooner. I didn’t know you were doing without java.” I show her how to use the thousand dollar DeLonghi espresso machine, making her a latte and two shots of espresso for myself.
“Do you mind if I take the world’s fastest shower before we eat?”
I kiss her forehead. “Make it snappy,” I murmur, only because I love to watch her scramble to please. I could care less if she takes her time and our breakfast gets cold. I’m not much of a breakfast guy, anyway. “I’m timing you!” I call after her back as she dashes toward the master bathroom. I sit to drink my espresso at the glass table situated near the wall-sized windows overlooking the city. She set the table for us like a perfect little 1950’s housewife.
My ex-wife did all these things, too. We started off great, but after the first five years, resentments grew between both of us. They grew and grew until we couldn’t stand each other. She became a ball-buster. I stayed away from the house. We’re much happier divorced. I pay her alimony, and she never complains anymore.
Financial arrangements make everything easier. Clear expectations.
She returns with her thick hair dripping, in a short denim skirt and tight t-shirt.
I glance at my watch and whistle. “Five minutes, three seconds. I think you deserve a reward for that.”
“Oh yeah?” she purrs, coming to stand over me and pressing her cleavage in my face.