body. I feel comfortable and warm and safe, and I snuggle in. In moments I’m asleep.
* * * *
I wake hours later to the sound of running water. I stretch, feeling totally relaxed. I roll onto my side, momentarily confused at the unfamiliar surroundings before I remember where I am. I’m in Nick Hardisty’s house, in Cartmel, in his big, comfortable bed. Now it’s morning, and the cooling empty space next to me, together with the splashing from the en suite, tells me Nick is already up and he’s in the shower.
I’m just considering the prospect of following him into the shower, but I’m still unsure of the rules on things like that. I know he has unlimited, unrestricted access to me, but can a sub just invade a Dom’s ablutions? I’ll need to ask, or maybe I could just try it and see what happens. Sadly, however the opportunity to indulge in such reckless experimentation has passed as he re-emerges, looking absolutely gorgeous. He’s all sexy and athletic and casually hot, a towel loosely wrapped around his waist.
There are occasions when not speaking is a positive advantage, and this is one such time as I can just gaze, admire, and hopefully manage not to drool. Nick Hardisty unwrapped is indeed a magnificent sight. His torso is gleaming from the shower, droplets of water still trickling down his chest to disappear into the gravity-defying towel at his waist. Unless I’ve completely misunderstood the laws of nature that towel has absolutely no business remaining in place. None at all. His chest is lightly dusted with dark hair, also disappearing into the towel where I know it arrows down to join the pubic hair framing his wonderful cock. I’m wondering how long it might be before I get another view of Nick’s hidden treasures, or better still an opportunity to become even more closely acquainted with them.
His dark hair is still dripping, but tousled to suggest he’s made a cursory attempt to towel it dry. He glances at me as he passes the bed. At the dressing table he rummages for a comb. I take the opportunity to admire his back, his wide shoulders rippling with tight, hard muscle. I wonder how he keeps so toned. Not much time to ponder that, though, as my eyes drift south to check out his narrow waist and hips. His feet are bare, long and straight, his toes sinking into the thick bedroom carpet. Nice feet. He ignores my scrutiny, leaning in to look at his reflection in the mirror. With a few deft strokes he smooths his hair into place before turning to me.
“Awake then, Miss Stone? I guess you were tired last night after all your exertions. Did you sleep well?”
I nod, realizing that I’ve just had one of the best night’s sleep I can remember. And now, I feel wonderful. Ready for anything.
“What plans do you have? For me? Today?” Sitting up I wedge the duvet somewhat awkwardly under my armpits as I sign the question, twice, because he didn’t quite catch it first time. But he’s definitely coming on. I can’t quite manage to completely suppress the shiver of delight at his wolfish grin. Whatever he has in mind, it promises to be good. Or painful. Or both. He strolls over to rejoin me on the bed, his long body lounging beside mine as he props himself up on one elbow to look down at me, catching and holding my gaze.
“Today, Miss Stone, we’re going to work on your inhibitions around nudity. And we’ll be dealing with the troublesome matter of your sweet little virgin arse.”
Ah, right. Inhibitions?
“I’m not inhibited,” I sign the response somewhat indignantly. He gets it first time, and grins.
“No? Why are your breasts covered then? You’re gripping that duvet to your chest like an outraged Sunday School teacher.”
I relax my fingers and draw the duvet down to my waist. He smiles, but makes no move to touch me. Yet.
“Better. I think, to make sure you do get the point, you can stay naked until I tell you different, and any attempt to cover yourself will be punished. Is
* * * *
I wake hours later to the sound of running water. I stretch, feeling totally relaxed. I roll onto my side, momentarily confused at the unfamiliar surroundings before I remember where I am. I’m in Nick Hardisty’s house, in Cartmel, in his big, comfortable bed. Now it’s morning, and the cooling empty space next to me, together with the splashing from the en suite, tells me Nick is already up and he’s in the shower.
I’m just considering the prospect of following him into the shower, but I’m still unsure of the rules on things like that. I know he has unlimited, unrestricted access to me, but can a sub just invade a Dom’s ablutions? I’ll need to ask, or maybe I could just try it and see what happens. Sadly, however the opportunity to indulge in such reckless experimentation has passed as he re-emerges, looking absolutely gorgeous. He’s all sexy and athletic and casually hot, a towel loosely wrapped around his waist.
There are occasions when not speaking is a positive advantage, and this is one such time as I can just gaze, admire, and hopefully manage not to drool. Nick Hardisty unwrapped is indeed a magnificent sight. His torso is gleaming from the shower, droplets of water still trickling down his chest to disappear into the gravity-defying towel at his waist. Unless I’ve completely misunderstood the laws of nature that towel has absolutely no business remaining in place. None at all. His chest is lightly dusted with dark hair, also disappearing into the towel where I know it arrows down to join the pubic hair framing his wonderful cock. I’m wondering how long it might be before I get another view of Nick’s hidden treasures, or better still an opportunity to become even more closely acquainted with them.
His dark hair is still dripping, but tousled to suggest he’s made a cursory attempt to towel it dry. He glances at me as he passes the bed. At the dressing table he rummages for a comb. I take the opportunity to admire his back, his wide shoulders rippling with tight, hard muscle. I wonder how he keeps so toned. Not much time to ponder that, though, as my eyes drift south to check out his narrow waist and hips. His feet are bare, long and straight, his toes sinking into the thick bedroom carpet. Nice feet. He ignores my scrutiny, leaning in to look at his reflection in the mirror. With a few deft strokes he smooths his hair into place before turning to me.
“Awake then, Miss Stone? I guess you were tired last night after all your exertions. Did you sleep well?”
I nod, realizing that I’ve just had one of the best night’s sleep I can remember. And now, I feel wonderful. Ready for anything.
“What plans do you have? For me? Today?” Sitting up I wedge the duvet somewhat awkwardly under my armpits as I sign the question, twice, because he didn’t quite catch it first time. But he’s definitely coming on. I can’t quite manage to completely suppress the shiver of delight at his wolfish grin. Whatever he has in mind, it promises to be good. Or painful. Or both. He strolls over to rejoin me on the bed, his long body lounging beside mine as he props himself up on one elbow to look down at me, catching and holding my gaze.
“Today, Miss Stone, we’re going to work on your inhibitions around nudity. And we’ll be dealing with the troublesome matter of your sweet little virgin arse.”
Ah, right. Inhibitions?
“I’m not inhibited,” I sign the response somewhat indignantly. He gets it first time, and grins.
“No? Why are your breasts covered then? You’re gripping that duvet to your chest like an outraged Sunday School teacher.”
I relax my fingers and draw the duvet down to my waist. He smiles, but makes no move to touch me. Yet.
“Better. I think, to make sure you do get the point, you can stay naked until I tell you different, and any attempt to cover yourself will be punished. Is
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