Smoke and mirrors

I dreamt of You last night. I slept fitfully and every time I woke, there You were. Some new tale of You, as fresh and real as if I might roll over to find You beside me.

There is one that is still so real that it could be a genuine memory. I’m kneeling between Your knees, naked except for collar, cuffs and leash, sitting back on my heels. I’m preparing and lighting a cigar for You. You are watching me with an expression that can only be described as beaming pride. Finished, I hand the cigar to You. You lean back in Your chair and smoke with a deeply contented sigh. I watch You and, after a moment or two, You lean forward cupping my chin in Your free hand, running Your thumb over my cheek. I avoid Your eyes. You wait, demanding my full attention. I give in and meet Your gaze. You whisper Outstanding, and kiss me gently, lingering, Your lips on mine, before sitting back to enjoy Your smoke. I scootch toward You a bit and rest my head on Your lap. You place a hand on my head and idly touch my hair while chatting with those present.

Today I am grateful for: life
Today’s funny moment:
Training: 30 minutes
Water: 4 liters
Corset: 25″ am, 24.5″ pm


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