I startle awake as I feel her pussy press down onto my face. First, disorientation and panic at the lack of breath. Then, calm acceptance. I begin methodically moving my tongue while she slowly rocks back and forth. Enough time has passed that I’m aware of my lack of breath again, and my body must …
I pulled up in front of her house at 9:55 a.m., rushing to carry the latest batch of gifts I’d purchased her up to her door for exactly 10 a.m., as instructed. “Good morning,” she says in a sing-song voice, kindly collecting the gifts from my arms. We have a full day of service ahead …
No one has ever pissed on my face or into my mouth before, and it was something I’ve always wanted to do, especially with her. I’ve often thought about, and rarely (if ever) discussed, showing up to our regular service day with a coffee that she then pisses in. (Thank you, Mistress.)
I knock on her door. Butterflies in my stomach, my hands shaking, as I shift my weight side to side, the desperation building inside of me. Regretting all the water I drank before I got here. I have to go so bad. Why did I have to follow her piss play instructions so exactly? Distracted …
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