I texted him from the parking garage.
Home. Still full. Held it the whole way.
His reply came before I even reached my apartment door.
Good. Tomorrow. 5pm. Use the key. Naked on your knees in the kitchen when I walk in. Don’t touch yourself tonight. That’s mine now.
I stared at the screen, cunt throbbing, his c*m already seeping into a fresh pair of panties I’d put on the second I got inside. I didn’t touch myself. I lay in bed and clenched around the ache and waited.
At 4:50 the next day I let myself in. The apartment was empty. I stripped in the kitchen, folded my clothes on the counter, and knelt on the tile exactly where he’d bent me yesterday. Hands behind my back. Knees spread. The air was cool on my skin. My ass still carried faint marks from his hand.
The door opened at 5:07.
