Baby and the Stranger

Scene 2

I spent the next few weeks thinking about her. The stranger. Her silky voice tugged at the edges of my thoughts. Her gentle caresses followed me into my dreams.

I was in lust with her.

She planted some kind of seed inside me. One whose plant wove around every thought I had. It was like I had tried meth for the first time: she consumed me. I thought about her all the time. I daydreamed about our encounter and I brought her up in the bedroom. Every orgasm I shared with my Master, I craved to share with her. I couldn't shake her off.

And, yet. I had no idea what her name was. Hell, I didn't know what she looked like.

She was a feeling, ever present. She was a sensation I craved. A drug. A hard, hard drug that I craved inside me.

I sighed. My wetness was incredibly palpable in my panties.

"Master," I called out. My bare feet padded across the hallway tiles. "I need you," I announced.

"Over here," he replied from the kitchen.

I trotted in with a wide smile. I held my eyes open a little wider than usual, trying way too hard to look innocent.

He glanced up from his snack of crackers and cheese. A smile melted his sleepy, I'm-reading face into one of playfulness. He already knew I was up to something.

It wasn't really that hard to tell. I only called him "Master" when I wanted to fuck. Just like he only called me "baby" when we were actively playing together.

"Hey there, baby," he stood and wrapped his hands around my waist. "I heard you needed something."

"I need you, I need you right now. God, I'm so horny, Master," I said the words as if I were talking about the weather. My head was at a downward tilt to make my eyes look more alluring.

He lifted me by my hips, helping me onto the kitchen counter. I wrapped my legs around his torso, tight like a hug.

"You've been a lot hornier lately," he remarked, "For a while now." He pretended to think, "You know, it started when I let my friend screw you."

I blushed. "Have I?"

He grabbed my chin between his thumb and forefinger, the way he knew I liked. "Does my bitch like getting fucked by other bitches?"

I bit my lip. My heart was pounding. "Uh, I might actually be super into it."

He chuckled, raising a brow. "Might?" He let go of my face, instead knotting his hand into my ponytail. Our lips met in a soft, pillowy kiss.

He pulled my head back, exposing my throat. He nibbled the side of my neck. Kisses overlapped with licking tongue.

"Well, I suppose I could arrange for her to come back to see you," he whispered. His breath tickled my earlobe.

"Will you?"

"Only because I love to watch you get fucked." He kissed the tip of my nose, an amused twinkle in his eyes. "But I'm telling her about how much of a handful you've been these past few weeks."

"Aw, I thought you liked how horny I've been," I teased. I stuck the tip of my tongue out.

"Careful, or I might bite that off."

"Promise?"

He kissed me. Our tongues danced between our soft bites, staying close together like they were tangoing. His lips were firm. His kiss held urgency.