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MiStReSs ~MICHAEL~

Michael had been thinking about his Mistress all day. Unfortunately for the both of you, he had woken up long after you left for work and missed out on your early morning play session. In your eyes, that didn’t quite merit a punishment. (Even though he would gladly except a nice spanking when you returned to the flat). You had a long night together. Noise complaints aside, Michael trying his hand at being submissive was one of the best things to happen to your relationship. You weren’t going to force anything on him, but you were particularly fond of him when he wore his kitten ears, collar, and referred to you only as Mistress. This meant you also refrained from dictating rather he should be in his costume or not when you returned home.

But it always sent chills down your spine when he was.

With little success, Michael had tried his hardest to push his thoughts of you away. He busied himself with household chores, video games, and even had a long chat with Luke on Facetime. Everything he did somehow to reminded him of you. Halfway through the what seemed to be the longest afternoon of his life, Michael’s desperation got the best of him. He decided to strip down to his boxers, put on his ears and collar, and wait for you on the couch. It was almost as if getting into character intensified his desire for you. Before long he was palming himself through his boxers and letting out tiny, pleading groans of your name. He had a clear vision in his mind:

You’d come home with the top two buttons of your work shirt undone and the second you laid eyes on him, your nipples would strain deliciously against the fabric. You’d ditch your bag and join him here, on the couch, just mere inches from where he sat now. Wide eyed, Michael would watch you smirk, unbuttoning your blouse the rest of the way. “Have you been a good boy today, Pet?” You would use what he liked to call your “Mistress voice,” a tone that was quiet and sultry when compared to your typical speech. It always put Michael on edge. He’d scoot up eagerly on the couch cushions, resting his head on your lap. That’s when you’d run your fingers through his hair just the way he liked. Maybe, he would just take a moment to bask in having your full attention.

After unclipping your bra, your hand would replace his own on his cock, stroking ever so gently at the bulge. His skin would flush deeper than it did during solo sessions and fuck, he’d arch towards you instantly. Michael’s hips would rise from the couch and he make grabby hands for your exposed tits. “Yes, Mistress. P-Please,” He’d whimper, shedding his pride to get mouth on your perfect breasts. Your laughter would fill the air, but Michael’s tense muscles wouldn’t relax until you tossed your hair over your shoulders and leaned down to give him access to your chest.

"Thank you, Mistress," As his lips finally closed around your left nipple, Michael would sigh heavily and cup your breast with both of his trembling palms. He’d glance up at you through long, dark eyelashes and offer a lazy smile, completely blissed out by his Mistress’ beautiful body. The expression on Michael’s face would remain innocent, despite the obscene suctioning sounds that filled the room. He knew that you liked that. He would alternate between slow, firm tugs of your tit and eager kitten licks focused on the very tip of your nipples. Michael was always unwilling to release your skin until it became difficult for him breathe and even then, desired contact with your breasts, so he’d lap away at the hardened buds, with breathless, unbridled enthusiam when it came to pleasing his Mistress.

When you thought your chest was covered in enough lovebites, you’d lean away from Michael’s plump lips, coaxing another whine from him. He’d pout for a second, casting his dilated eyes up at you in wonder. “Are you hungry, baby boy?” You’d whisper as you rose from the couch, undoing your jeans. Both of you always knew the answer. -xx