Desirable Lies

Give a Little Time to Me

~Katy~

The mid morning sunshine and the fact that there's still a warm male tucked against my side, remind me that it's Saturday. I stretch in the bed, already daydreaming of the delicious cappuccino I'm going to make myself. I feel quite proud that I've mastered that damn coffee machine. It only took me three weeks.

John surprises me by reaching out and tugging me back against him. I'm greeted by a rather impressive erection nudging my backside and my body clenches uselessly, responding automatically at the mere thought of him.

Aside from those first two nights, we've had no other sexual contact. I should feel relieved, but instead I find myself increasingly frustrated and confused. Almost a month has passed. I had figured he would take my virginity right away, but after several days and then weeks, I've become increasingly anxious and curious about it. Now I just want to get it over with, I'm tired of waiting and wondering when he's going to do it. I was purchased as a sex slave and I know I'm not living up to my end of the bargain.

In the evenings he stays up late, working in his office and all but ignores me. Does he not find me attractive? Is he gay? Were my blowjobs that bad? The wait is killing me. Is there something wrong with me that he refuses to fuck me? The anticipation is worse than the actual event. I need to get this over with. I'd often suspected he took care of his needs during his morning shower, but I've never been brave enough to venture into the bathroom for confirmation.

At first I wondered if he was waiting for me to make a move, to climb into his lap, or kiss him...but I know that's not it. He wasn't shy about taking what he wanted from me the first two times. He'd ordered me to my knees, undone his pants and stroked himself while I'd watched. I knew he wasn't timid, which made this all the more confusing.

You could cut the sexual tension between us with a knife. And each night I'm expected to cuddle up to a shirtless, buff, delicious smelling man, lay in his arms and be the perfect little obedient bedmate. The problem with all this? It's fucking confusing. He's spent a million dollars to bring me here, and I'm all too aware of the money. Every time I call home, when I hear about Angela's progress, every time I wander the various rooms of his mansion, or catch my reflection in the mirror and remember where my new designer wardrobe came from, it sends another wave of confusion through me. I need to know what's expected of me....where we stand....what this arrangement involves.

I've thought about confronting him. But in this moment, feeling his hot arousal press against me, I want something else entirely.

A low rumble escapes his throat as he presses closer, his cock nestling in against my ass. He pushes his hips closer again, stealing my breath as I feel every part of him. His hand moves along my belly, inching its way upward and I hold my breath, wondering where it will land.

Wishful thinking takes hold and I angle my body toward his, wanting to feel his firm hand cup my breasts. His fingers splay open and brush the underside of my breast.

His breathing remains even and steady against the back of my neck and he's making sleepy little noises, which only urge me on. As much as I wish I could see his face, I'm too afraid to move...too afraid it will break the spell. I consider pushing my t-shirt up out of the way to help him, craving the skin to skin contact, but instead, I press my bottom back into his hard arousal and he releases a grunt.

"Katy?" he asks, his voice sleepy and rough.

Oh no. He was still asleep, and now I'm mortified.

I roll toward him and look down between us to where his cock is straining against his boxers, trying to come out and greet me.

Just let me take care of it for goodness sake. I place my hand over his heart and feel its steady thump.