You awake to the sound of your alarm and glance to your clock as you stretch a slow arm to tap the buzz to silence. On your table beside the lamp is a small white paper folded and perched teepee style, on it written simply, "Nasty."
You stretch lazily and rise from your comfort. Directly to the shower you go, shedding your sleeping clothes in the hamper on your way. You are not leisurely, but get right to the point of cleaning your handsome body making certain to double task by performing all of your days requirements in your thoughts.
You step dripping wet from the shower to find me on my knees before you, completely clothed, hair pinned back. The shower was so short that the bath mirrors did not even have time to fog and you watch to the left of you as the reflection of my lips wrap around the tip of your morning hard cock. I don’t waste time and respect your schedule allowing you to pour your hot cum down my throat within only a few moments. I rise and leave you to dry your now refreshed body and dress for your day.
You are dressed and smell coffee brewing in the kitchen. You quickly pick up the note from your bedside table and slip it in your pocket. Downstairs on the counter you find your keys and a cup of black coffee. One sniff reminds you of my love for a shot of Makers in my morning brew and you know I doused your mug with my poison. Grab the keys, out the door.
At your office you are busied by your tasks and responsibilities, not giving one thought to what may await you. Around noon a woman in her mid 30's arrives at the desk of your secretary requesting a moment of your time. You don’t have any appointments and feel a little annoyed by an uninvited visitor but curious, you allow her in. She steps through your door in one stunning glide. Dressed simply in a navy skirt and matching jacket with a white blouse scooped low and allowing you a grand view of her sunkissed cleavage. Your eyes meet and she tips her head back letting her golden blonde locks drift over her bare chest. As she steps forward you notice a champagne ice bucket in her grip with two bottles of your favorite lunchtime beer. She sets it on the corner of your desk and exits without saying a word. You have never seen her before, but you know who sent her.
You swill back your first beer and then lean back in your chair and slowly enjoy your second. Reaching into your pocket you find the note and pull it out.
"Do not come home. A driver will get you at 4pm."
You continue with your day and give no thought to the blowjob, the blonde, the beer or the note. And no thought to the exotic ways I will love you later.
At 4 sharp a driver arrives and takes you to a local airport. As you step out of the vehicle the driver hands you an envelope with your passport and travel documents. The trunk pops open and the driver removes for you one solitary case.
You board a plane big enough for maybe 25 passengers, but you are alone except for the crew. You are served an exquisite dinner and take the travel time to go over some work things.
At your destination you are feeling tired and a little irritated with the mystery. Your negativity is soon swept away as you are taken to a small quiet bungalow on the tropically wooded edge of the ocean. Inside is simply furnished with pillows and cushions of all shapes and sizes and one coffee size table between to mats. In another room is a huge bed set low to the ground covered in natural toned linens and pillows. There is sheer fabric surrounding the bed and the walls in the room are propped up on two sides turning it into more of a porch than a bedroom. Outside of one of the walls is a hammock set between two trees, and beside it a book, a rocks glass and a bottle of the finest scotch. You shower, rest, read, drink and lounge…and drift off to sleep.
In the morning you awake to the sound of heavy waves crashing on the shore. You jump from the bed, suddenly reminded you are not at home. Immediately you see a line of surfboards perched against the wall of the cabana. Five different shapes and sizes to chose from.
Just then a young woman arrives, obviously a local and does not speak English. She is dressed lightly and her beautiful and exotic curves are visible for your enjoyment as she serves you a light breakfast and a strong spicy Bloody Mary. After a small meal you walk to the edge of the woods and stare out to the mysterious sea in front of you. Where are you? Who cares? You assess the corduroy curls along the horizon and go back to choose your board, and then enjoy countless hours of magic at sea.
Over the next few days you are offered the opportunity to rest, surf, drink, eat, golf, hike…whatever you wish. Every need is met with service as you desire. But you don’t feel pressured or hovered over.
After three days of all about you, a driver comes and takes your bags and you are driven to a lavish resort. You are led to a room overlooking the ocean. It is a presidential suite and decked out with the finest furniture, food and a full bar. On the landing is a private pool and massage tables with an assortment of oils and tools. After a look around and a nibble on a strawberry you wander to the master suite. The door is closed, you turn the knob and enter. In the room at the foot of the bed I am on my knees, naked. You approach me and cup my chin in your hand gingerly at first, then slowly slide it down until your fingers are wrapped around my neck. You apply enough pressure for a small gasp and then pull me to my feel by the throat. I am standing face to face with you, eyes locked. We hold a momentary conversation of glances and then your grip returns on my throat and you push my head back revealing my neck. I await a kiss, but receive something much more painful. Your bare palm slaps down against my left hip and ass, then your teeth lock onto one of my nipples and you push it with your tongue against the tight grip of your hungry mouth. Slap. I feel your hand slide off my throat. Down to my free nipple, you pinch and twist until I whimper in pain. Slap. You torture my nipples for a few moments more. Slap. Slap. Slap. Slap.
I’m spun around and shoved face down on the bed. On a chest of drawers in the room you find a rope and some silk scarves. My hands are bound behind my back and pillows are shoved under my hips. I hear you fumble with your belt for a moment and then the leather sliding out of your pants. Then you leave me. You are gone outside on the terrace for several moments and you return with a switch from a shrub and you have stripped it of its foliage. Before I have time to give a comment I feel the hardy branch land like a whip on my bare soft skin. You punish me with 25 swats having me count them out for you with each snap. Then you spread my legs with your hand and slide the switch toward my sex and roughly poke at my pussy lips. Seeing me there like that your cock responds with a curious leap and you suddenly have the urge to fuck me. You drop your pants and push my dripping lips apart with your dick, plunging roughly to your own hard orgasm. You remove yourself from my hole and watch as your cum drips down my thigh. You pick up your belt and punish me with 25 more solid swats. After all, this is the anniversary gift you had hoped for.
You stretch lazily and rise from your comfort. Directly to the shower you go, shedding your sleeping clothes in the hamper on your way. You are not leisurely, but get right to the point of cleaning your handsome body making certain to double task by performing all of your days requirements in your thoughts.
You step dripping wet from the shower to find me on my knees before you, completely clothed, hair pinned back. The shower was so short that the bath mirrors did not even have time to fog and you watch to the left of you as the reflection of my lips wrap around the tip of your morning hard cock. I don’t waste time and respect your schedule allowing you to pour your hot cum down my throat within only a few moments. I rise and leave you to dry your now refreshed body and dress for your day.
You are dressed and smell coffee brewing in the kitchen. You quickly pick up the note from your bedside table and slip it in your pocket. Downstairs on the counter you find your keys and a cup of black coffee. One sniff reminds you of my love for a shot of Makers in my morning brew and you know I doused your mug with my poison. Grab the keys, out the door.
At your office you are busied by your tasks and responsibilities, not giving one thought to what may await you. Around noon a woman in her mid 30's arrives at the desk of your secretary requesting a moment of your time. You don’t have any appointments and feel a little annoyed by an uninvited visitor but curious, you allow her in. She steps through your door in one stunning glide. Dressed simply in a navy skirt and matching jacket with a white blouse scooped low and allowing you a grand view of her sunkissed cleavage. Your eyes meet and she tips her head back letting her golden blonde locks drift over her bare chest. As she steps forward you notice a champagne ice bucket in her grip with two bottles of your favorite lunchtime beer. She sets it on the corner of your desk and exits without saying a word. You have never seen her before, but you know who sent her.
You swill back your first beer and then lean back in your chair and slowly enjoy your second. Reaching into your pocket you find the note and pull it out.
"Do not come home. A driver will get you at 4pm."
You continue with your day and give no thought to the blowjob, the blonde, the beer or the note. And no thought to the exotic ways I will love you later.
At 4 sharp a driver arrives and takes you to a local airport. As you step out of the vehicle the driver hands you an envelope with your passport and travel documents. The trunk pops open and the driver removes for you one solitary case.
You board a plane big enough for maybe 25 passengers, but you are alone except for the crew. You are served an exquisite dinner and take the travel time to go over some work things.
At your destination you are feeling tired and a little irritated with the mystery. Your negativity is soon swept away as you are taken to a small quiet bungalow on the tropically wooded edge of the ocean. Inside is simply furnished with pillows and cushions of all shapes and sizes and one coffee size table between to mats. In another room is a huge bed set low to the ground covered in natural toned linens and pillows. There is sheer fabric surrounding the bed and the walls in the room are propped up on two sides turning it into more of a porch than a bedroom. Outside of one of the walls is a hammock set between two trees, and beside it a book, a rocks glass and a bottle of the finest scotch. You shower, rest, read, drink and lounge…and drift off to sleep.
In the morning you awake to the sound of heavy waves crashing on the shore. You jump from the bed, suddenly reminded you are not at home. Immediately you see a line of surfboards perched against the wall of the cabana. Five different shapes and sizes to chose from.
Just then a young woman arrives, obviously a local and does not speak English. She is dressed lightly and her beautiful and exotic curves are visible for your enjoyment as she serves you a light breakfast and a strong spicy Bloody Mary. After a small meal you walk to the edge of the woods and stare out to the mysterious sea in front of you. Where are you? Who cares? You assess the corduroy curls along the horizon and go back to choose your board, and then enjoy countless hours of magic at sea.
Over the next few days you are offered the opportunity to rest, surf, drink, eat, golf, hike…whatever you wish. Every need is met with service as you desire. But you don’t feel pressured or hovered over.
After three days of all about you, a driver comes and takes your bags and you are driven to a lavish resort. You are led to a room overlooking the ocean. It is a presidential suite and decked out with the finest furniture, food and a full bar. On the landing is a private pool and massage tables with an assortment of oils and tools. After a look around and a nibble on a strawberry you wander to the master suite. The door is closed, you turn the knob and enter. In the room at the foot of the bed I am on my knees, naked. You approach me and cup my chin in your hand gingerly at first, then slowly slide it down until your fingers are wrapped around my neck. You apply enough pressure for a small gasp and then pull me to my feel by the throat. I am standing face to face with you, eyes locked. We hold a momentary conversation of glances and then your grip returns on my throat and you push my head back revealing my neck. I await a kiss, but receive something much more painful. Your bare palm slaps down against my left hip and ass, then your teeth lock onto one of my nipples and you push it with your tongue against the tight grip of your hungry mouth. Slap. I feel your hand slide off my throat. Down to my free nipple, you pinch and twist until I whimper in pain. Slap. You torture my nipples for a few moments more. Slap. Slap. Slap. Slap.
I’m spun around and shoved face down on the bed. On a chest of drawers in the room you find a rope and some silk scarves. My hands are bound behind my back and pillows are shoved under my hips. I hear you fumble with your belt for a moment and then the leather sliding out of your pants. Then you leave me. You are gone outside on the terrace for several moments and you return with a switch from a shrub and you have stripped it of its foliage. Before I have time to give a comment I feel the hardy branch land like a whip on my bare soft skin. You punish me with 25 swats having me count them out for you with each snap. Then you spread my legs with your hand and slide the switch toward my sex and roughly poke at my pussy lips. Seeing me there like that your cock responds with a curious leap and you suddenly have the urge to fuck me. You drop your pants and push my dripping lips apart with your dick, plunging roughly to your own hard orgasm. You remove yourself from my hole and watch as your cum drips down my thigh. You pick up your belt and punish me with 25 more solid swats. After all, this is the anniversary gift you had hoped for.
