# A Friend’s Fantasy: Penance
## The First Day
I wake with the sun’s early-morning rays illuminating our room in a cool, blue light. The first thing I notice, like most mornings, is the warm skin of the side of your body pressed against mine. Immediately, I become aware of my morning erection. I consider rolling you onto your stomach and mounting you, but I discard the thought almost as quickly as it comes to me.
I have other, bigger plans for you.
Turning down my corner of the blankets to make extricating myself from the bed an easier task, I pull my legs up toward my chest and swing them out over the edge of the mattress, sitting up as I do. You stir when I sit up, rolling from your side to your back and onto the space where I had just been lying. Most of the right side of your body is exposed, thanks to my folding down of the blankets.
I admire the mound of your breast, the arousing nub of your dark nipple. I lean over, twisting, to take your nipple gently between my teeth. Holding myself up on my left elbow, I cup your breast with my right hand and squeeze softly. Carefully increasing the pressure of my bite, I slowly slide my hand down your chest and tummy, under the covers and onto your smooth pubic mound. I’ve no doubt that you’re awake by the time I curl my middle and ring fingers into your warm cunt. You’re wet and welcoming, as you are most mornings, and my fingers slide smoothly inside you. I’m able to get two knuckles deep, allowing me to stroke the roof of your vagina with my curled finger tips. I’m rewarded for the petting with a little sound of pleasure, almost a sigh, and the arch of your back as you thrust your hips up and into the palm of my hand.
I relax my bite and flick out my tongue, licking around and then at the rounded peak of your nipple. That earns me another little sigh, and I smile, turning my head to look at your face. Your eyes are still not fully open, but I can see that you’re watching me through the haze of waking.
“Good morning, my love.”
“Good morning,” you reply with a sleepy smile.
I shift my weight to bring my face closer to yours, and I plant a small kiss on your lips.
“I’m going to start breakfast,” I tell you, pulling my face away from yours. “Don’t stay in bed much longer, little girl, or you won’t have time to eat before your morning workout. Remember, you’re meeting your friends at nine.”
“Yes, Daddy.”
I retrieve my hand from under the covers, feeling wistful as my fingers leave your warm embrace. I cup your cheek, leaning down to give you another quick kiss.
“Good girl,” I say, standing.
I walk over to our small closet and pull out a pair of blue pajama pants to throw on, then I head out to the restroom in the hallway. After relieving myself, washing my hands, and splashing cold water on my face, I walk to the kitchen and begin preparing breakfast burritos: plant-based chorizo, scrambled eggs, and my homemade frijoles, topped with sour cream and a sprinkle of cheese, wrapped in freshly-cooked flour tortillas. I make two little burritos for each of us, enough to sate our morning appetites, but not enough to make us so full that we’re uncomfortable for our morning ritual. I’m setting the plated food on our small table when you walk into the kitchen.
You’re wearing one of our alpaca-wool ponchos and a pair of thick, fluffy socks because the house is cool this early in the morning. You’re wearing nothing under the poncho—because you’re my good little girl—and I feel my dormant sex stir in my pants when I catch glimpses of your thighs through the open sides of the poncho as you walk. You take a seat at the table, and I set your mug of coffee down next to your plate of food, leaning down to kiss the top of your head when I do. My own mug of coffee in-hand, I take the seat across from you.
“Smells delicious,” you comment cheerily.
“Mm-hmm,” I agree, taking a sip of the hot coffee. “Let’s eat,” I say, setting my mug down.
We eat our breakfast in companionable silence. I stand and collect our plates when we’re both finished, carrying them over to the kitchen sink. I hear you push out your chair as you come to stand behind me, and then your arms wrap around me, your tits pressing into the middle of my back.
“Thank you for breakfast, Daddy.”
“Of course, my love,” I respond, turning in your embrace so that I can give you a hug in return. Speaking over your head, I ask, “Do you remember what I said yesterday evening?”
You make a little sound in your throat to convey that you’re thinking, but I know you’re stalling. There can only be one thing this is about, and I know you know that. I take hold of your shoulders and gently force you away from me, just far enough that I can see your face without forcing you to completely release your hold on me.
“My love,” I prompt in a tone that says I expect you to behave.
Your shoulders slump a little and you roll your eyes away from mine.
“You said that I would pay for eating some of Isaiah’s cum.”
I put my left hand under your chin and tilt your head up a bit, indicating to you that I want you to look at me. Reluctantly, you do.
“That’s right, little girl,” I confirm. “Actions have consequences, yes?” I let my hand return to your shoulder, and you nod your head. “One week without cum, beginning today.”
You gasp, your eyes going wide.
“Daddy!”
“Consequences, my love.” I wrap my right hand around the back of your neck in a comforting gesture. “But let’s not think of this as a punishment, OK? After all, it’s going to be just as difficult for me as it will be for you. Instead, let’s think of this as a practice of that ‘absence makes the heart grow fonder’ philosophy.”
“But, Daddy, a week is too long to go without your cum,” you object.
“It *is* a long time,” I agree, “but not too long. Just long enough to remind us both not to take each other for granted.”
You take a deep breath and then let it out in a sigh.
“You’ll survive, my love,” I laugh. “C’mon,” I say with a gentle shake of your shoulders, “try to have a positive outlook on this. It might even be fun, if you let it be.”
“I don’t know…” You trail off, turning your eyes to the ground.
“I do,” I assert. “Just think about how nice it will feel to finally get some after a week without my cum. Keep thinking about that throughout the week. Let the expectation fill you with excitement.”
“I’ll try, Daddy,” you say, looking back up at me. “I promise.”
“Good girl. Now go get ready while I clean up here. I’ll be there in just a few minutes.”
You nod and turn to leave. The poncho swishes open as you turn, and I catch a glimpse of side-boob and a hint of the curve of your ass—then you’re gone down the hallway and out of sight. I bite my lower lip and shake my head, then turn back to the dishes.
A few minutes later, as promised, I walk into our bedroom. You’re lying on your back on the salvaged workout bench we’ve modified for restraints. The poncho is nowhere to be seen, presumably hanging in our closet now. Your legs straddle each side of the bench, your toes just brushing against the floor, your ankles cuffed to the bench’s legs. Your left arm is stretched back and above your head, handcuffed to one of the posts at the end of the bench; your right hand is free, since you couldn’t cuff that one yourself, but you raise your arm above your head to show me that you’re ready for me to secure the final cuff. Your mouth is open and plugged with a cute, pink ball gag. The gag’s black straps are secured around the back of your head, under your hair.
I walk over to the side of the bench, take your right forearm in one hand, and with the other I close the last cuff around your wrist. That task completed, I step over to our toy chest and retrieve our wand massager. I set that and our bottle of lubricant on the bench between your legs, intentionally brushing my fingers over your pussy as I pull away. Dropping to the floor at the side of the bench, I do a set of push-ups to get my blood flowing. When I’m done, I stand and drop my pants to my ankles. Now nude, I pick up the wand and apply a healthy coat of lube to its bulbous head. Next, I use my palm and my fingers to cover your vulva in lube. You won’t need any inside you, but I slide several fingers into your vagina anyway. Satisfied that you’re properly lubricated, I raise the wand up so that you can see it.
“Are you ready, little girl?”
You blink your eyes and nod your head with an emphatic “mm-hmm!” behind the gag.
I rest the head of the wand against your pussy and turn up the dial to activate the massager’s lowest setting. The toy buzzes and vibrates against my hand as its little motor responds to the setting. You moan, the sound muffled by the gag, and spread your legs wider. Slowly, deliberately, I move the wand’s head around in small, practiced circles. I let the head roam over your lips, to your inner thighs, back to your lips, and then up to your clitoris. A few small circles there, and then I rove the massager’s head up and onto your pubic mound. More circles there, and then I move back down to your clit, then to your vaginal opening, and again to your thighs. When I bring the head back to the center of your pussy, I turn the dial up by one increment and repeat the massage routine.
I continue this process again and again, increasing the intensity of the massager’s vibrations by one increment each time. By the time we reach the seventh of the toy’s ten intensity settings, you’re covered in sweat and struggling to hold still. You arch your back and thrust your hips up as far as the restraints will allow you to go, and I know that you’re moments away from cumming. I put my left hand over your navel and firmly push you back down to the bench. I put some of my body weight onto my left arm, holding you down as I set the vibrator against your clit and continue to massage in circles. You’re breath is fast and shallow, and you’re making little involuntary sounds at the back of your throat.
“Wait, little girl,” I instruct you. “Look at me.” I wait a second, until you lock your eyes on mine. “Good. Wait just a little longer. Focus on the sound of my voice. Three more circles. I’ll count them for you.”
You nod your head urgently.
“One.”
I put a little more weight onto my left arm as you struggle to push upward.
“Two.”
Your legs are quivering now, and the tremor quickly moves up your body, until you’re shaking with the effort of holding back your orgasm.
“Three.”
With a shout muffled and distorted by the gag, you surrender to your orgasm. I feel your body buck under my left hand, but it’s not difficult for me to hold you firmly in place. I break the wand’s contact with you as you cum, flicking my thumb over the dial to turn it off. In the moments that follow, I keep my left hand on your tummy, sharing my calming energy with you while also reveling in the sexy strength of your taut core.
When the last waves of ecstasy have receded, but before your breathing has returned to a resting state, I hold up the wand again.
“Ready?”
You inhale sharply, but nod your head. *Ready*.
“Good girl,” I say. “But—first, I think we’ll gag you with something else…”
I trail off playfully, picking my hand off your tummy to reach behind your head. I undo the gag’s straps and use one of them to carefully pull the ball out of your mouth. Your breathing suddenly seems loud to my ears, and I grin at you. Stepping around the bench to stand at your head, I grasp my hard dick in my left hand and point it down at your face. Obligingly, you tilt your head back and open wide, allowing me to slide my cock deep into your mouth. I don’t push all the way back to your throat—I don’t want to make things too difficult for you right now—but I go far enough in to serve as a proper gag.
“OK, now I’m ready. Are you ready, my love?”
“Mm-hmm,” you respond, the sound vibrating delightfully around the shaft of my penis.
Bending over slightly so that I can reach down to your pussy, I set the wand’s head against you once again and flick the dial to the second “on” position. You immediately take a sharp breath, obviously still sensitive from the first round, but you make me proud when you quickly catch yourself and strive to bring your breathing under control.
I hold you down for the entire second round, never allowing your ass off of the bench, even when we reach the eighth of the wand’s ten settings. You’re breathing hard once again, sucking in air through your nose and blowing out around my cock. Your legs and arms quake against their restraints.
“My voice, love, focus on my voice.” I make sure to convey calm when I speak, even though the process of bringing you to the edge of your second orgasm has brought me to the edge of one of my own. “Three more circles, little girl. Just three more,” I promise, momentarily shutting my eyes as I try to ignore the pressure at the base of my cock.
“One.”
Your hips thrust upward more violently than before, enabling you to get your ass about an inch off the bench before I can shove you back down.
“Two.”
You’re whimpering now, the little sounds stimulating my dick and bringing me to a state of hyperarousal.
“Three.”
Again, the muscles in your core contract, hardening, as the rest of your body quakes with the force of your orgasm. Again, you shout as you cum. That is very nearly too much for me.
“Fuck!” I exclaim, quickly pulling my cock out of your mouth.
Not quick enough, though: while I’m able to squash my orgasm, I can’t do anything to prevent the slow escape of cum from the tip of my penis. A drop of the warm, white liquid falls on your forehead; then a full string of my cum follows, drizzling across your cheek like some sugary pastry topping. I hold my breath and tremble along with you, struggling to reign in my slow-motion eruption of cum, only just remembering to break the wand’s contact with you. I can’t spare the mental energy to flick it off just yet, so I let it fill the room with its whirring, buzzing sounds as you ride the waves of another orgasm and I try to stem the flow of my ruined one.
More of my cum drips onto your chin and your neck before I feel confident that I can touch my dick without exploding. Moving carefully, I use my free hand to scrape cum off the tip of my cock. When I look down at you, you’re looking back up at me with a smile.
“Thank you for your gift, Daddy,” you say between short breaths.
Short of breath myself, my rueful chuckle in response is shaky and broken. I shake my head once, but otherwise don’t chastise you. My lack of control isn’t your fault, and the amusement I see on your face only lightly masks the heartfelt gratitude I know you feel.
“I think you have at least one more in you, little girl. What do you think? How are you feeling?”
“Water, please,” you request nicely.
“Of course, my love,” is my immediate response.
I take my water bottle off the nightstand at my side of the bed and unscrew the cap. Kneeling at the side of the bench and using my right hand to help you hold your head up, I carefully tilt the bottle against your lips to give you a small sip. I give you another, and another, always careful not to give you too much at once, but you shake your head when I tilt the bottle toward you a fourth time.
“Thank you, Daddy.”
I nod in response and set the bottle on the floor.
“One more?” I pick up the wand and raise it up for you to see.
You nod, taking a deep breath to reset your breathing.
“Would you like the gag?”
“Daddy’s dick, please!” You flash a flippant smile at me.
“Gag it is,” I say, shaking my head with a smile of my own.
I pick up the gag and present it to you. You open your mouth wide, and I place the ball inside before securing the straps around your head. I carefully free a few locks of hair caught under the straps, and then I raise the wand.
“Ready?”
You nod, so I begin.
I start at the third setting this time, and we reach the ninth of the ten settings before I speak to you again.
“Listen to the sound of my voice,” I say with ritual calm. “You’re so close, my love. Just three more circles. Listen to the sound of my voice. I’ll count them for you.”
Your whole body is rosy now, your blood hot and circulating rapidly. You’re drenched in sweat, your hair plastered to your face and sticking to your shoulders.
“One.”
Every breath is something between a growl and a grunt, a primal sound that sings of intense effort.
“Two.”
You thrust your hips up, and this time I allow you to lift your ass off the bench. I keep my free hand on your navel, though, enough of my weight pressing down to prevent you from hurting your wrists or ankles on the cuffs.
“Three.”
I pull the wand away just as you squirt with a ragged shout. Your back remains arched, all your muscles taut, until the fountain of clear liquid spends itself, and then you collapse back onto the bench, suddenly exhausted and limp.
“You did such a good job,” I say encouragingly, moving quickly to take out the gag.
You smile weakly at me while I take the cuffs’ key from its magnetic case on the bench.
“Really, my love, you did a great job,” I assure you, standing so that I can free your wrists from their restraints. Your hands free, I bend over and bring my face close to yours, touching your cheek with my left hand.
“I’m proud of you.”
I give you a little kiss, mindful that you still need time and space to catch your breath, and then I brush off the last of the cum still clinging to your face and neck. Kneeling at the foot of the bench, I wipe my hands on my discarded pajama pants. You’re too tired to protest, if you even notice. I free your ankles from their cuffs and help you sit up, then I offer you the water bottle. You take the bottle in shaky hands, and I use a light touch to help lift the bottom when you tilt it up to drink. After you drink your fill, I take the bottle from you and set it down. Then I seat myself on the bench next to you, wrapping an arm around your shoulder. You rest your head against my chest without further encouragement. Your right hand wraps around my erect member as you rest. Your hot fingers fill me with a warmth that starts at my cock but quickly spreads to my body and mind.
“I love you,” I tell you, tilting my head to rest on the top of yours.
“I love you, Daddy.”
We sit together for a few minutes, until your breathing has returned to normal and much of your rosy color has faded. When I think you’re ready, I lift my head and lean away from you. You support your own weight automatically, and I know you’re good to go.
“Okay, little girl,” I prompt you. “I want to see that beautiful butt of yours. Off to the shower with you. I’ll clean up here.”
I help you stand with a little push at the small of your back, and then I give your ass a playful slap as you step past me on your way out to the bathroom. I hear you pull the shower curtain closed, followed by the rush of water when you turn the shower on.
Turning to the task at hand, I use my pajamas to wipe down the bench and the floor around it. Tossing the pants into the laundry hamper in the corner of the room, I step over to our closet and pull out some clothes to throw on. After dressing, I grab the all-purpose cleaner and a clean rag from their places on the closet shelf. I give the bench a liberal spray and wipe it down again. I clean the cuffs next, then I give the ball gag a polish too. Finally, I wipe down the wand and put all the toys back in our toy box. Then I head out to the living room to start writing.
I’m several new paragraphs into the story I’m working on when you come out of the shower. Rather than going straight to the bedroom to get dressed, you come out to join me in the living room. I shut the lid of my laptop and set the machine aside, patting my thighs to indicate that I want you to climb onto my lap. Straddling me between your legs, you kneel on the couch and lower your weight onto my lap. I can feel the wonderful heat of your sex even through the pants and boxer briefs I’m wearing.
“Feeling so fresh and so clean, my love?”
“Mm-hmm!”
“Excellent.”
I touch your face with one hand and, with the other on the small of your back, I pull you closer to me. We kiss, and your tongue presses past my lips and into my mouth. Meanwhile, you reach down behind yourself to grab the growing bulge in my pants. I quickly drop my hand from your back to your wrist.
“Ah, no, little girl.” I pull my face away from yours. “You need to get ready. I just wanted a kiss.”
“I could stay,” you say with a shrug.
“No, my love, you should hang out with your friends. You told them you’d be there, and you know you’ll have fun.”
“We have fun.”
You give my bulge a little squeeze. I want to pick you up and fuck you, but instead I carefully pull your hand off of me.
“That we do, my love,” I say with a smile. “We also keep our commitments to our family and friends. Now be a good girl and go get ready.”
“Yes, Daddy,” you obey, sliding off my lap. I give your ass another playful slap, harder than the last time, as you walk away.
You’re all ready for the day out with your friends when you return to the living room. I’m finishing up the last of several additional paragraphs I’ve managed to work into my story when you walk in. You wait patiently for me to finish my thought and close the lid of my laptop, then you spin to let me see you from all sides.
“How do I look?”
You’re wearing jean shorts that come down to about your mid-thigh and a light-blue, short-sleeved shirt with a modest neckline. You also have a pink hoodie draped over one arm, even though it’s going to be a warm day. You tend to feel really cold in movie theaters.
“You look beautiful, little girl.”
“You always say that!”
You stamp your foot in a mock tantrum, but the smile on your face puts the lie to your outrage. I shrug, returning your smile.
“It’s always true, my love.”
“Thank you, Daddy,” you beam, activating the lovely smile wrinkles at the corners of your eyes.
Setting my laptop on the couch, I stand and walk over to you. I take your hips in my hands and pull you against my body. You wrap your arms around my lower back in response.
“Are you all ready?” I ask.
“Mm-hmm!” You nod cutely in affirmation. Then, “Are you sure you don’t want to come with me?”
“Mm, no. You should have some time alone with your friends.”
“You know Izzy will miss you,” you say coyly.
The mention of Isabela’s name conjures a whirlwind of memories before I can banish them: your bodies and mine tangled and sweaty; giggles, moans, and grunts overlapping in an erotic symphony; playful energy coexisting side-by-side with the primal.
“I bet Ben will be just as happy I’m not there as Isabel will be sad to miss me.”
Your face instantly becomes a mask of pretend grief.
“Ah, poor Benjamin,” you say. “I’m afraid that boat has sailed for good.”
“Poor Ben, indeed,” I agree. “Anyway, I’d like the time to write. I’ve hit a good tempo—I think I may have the chapter finished by the time you get home.”
“Oh, yay!” you squeal excitedly. “May I read it before bed?”
“If it’s finished, little girl,” I promise. “Now,” I say, stepping aside and guiding you by your hand to the front door, “you need to get going if you’re not going to be late.”
I take your small shoulder bag from its hanging place on the shelf by the door and hand it to you. Opening the door, I gesture outside, but I catch your eyes as you step forward.
“Think of me?” I ask.
“Always, Daddy,” you reply, stepping up on your toes to give me a kiss. I reach down to squeeze your ass as we press our lips together, and we both grin.
“Have fun, my love, and give me a call if you need anything.”
“Okay,” you agree. “And you write!”
I chuckle in response. “And I will write. Now go.”
“I love you,” you say.
“I love you, my beautiful little girl. Be safe.”
With that, I let you go. I watch the back of your legs as you walk down the short path from our front door to the street, then I wave goodbye as you get in your car. You drive away as I close the door and head back to the couch to continue typing.
Several hours later, while I’m taking a break from writing to do the laundry, my phone buzzes in my pocket and I hear the chime of your custom notification sound. When I pull out my device and turn on the screen, I find that you’ve sent me a pic:
You’re in a large dressing room, pointing your camera at a full-length mirror. You’re standing in front of the mirror, fully nude. One hand holds your phone so you can take the pic and the other is pointing in the direction of a cute, yellow sundress hanging on the wall behind you.
*What do you think of the dress?* reads the caption of the photo.
*What dress?* I tap out my reply and hit send. *I only see a beautiful girl I want to fuck.* I add the heart-eyes emoji and send.
A few seconds later, another pic is delivered to my device. In this one, you’re sitting on the bench seat built into the dressing room. You’re wearing the dress now, but your knees are up and your feet are set wide on the seat of the bench, revealing that you’re not wearing your underwear underneath the dress. The fingers of your free hand are spreading the lips of your pussy to exhibit the pink of your sex.
The pic is followed by a short message: *This dress.*
I reply with an enlarged “hot face” emoji, then—feeling my cock harden—I drop my pants to take a pic of my own. I give my dick a few vigorous strokes, enough to solidify my erection and get some pre-cum flowing, then I hold the base of my shaft and snap a pic of my penis. I manage to get a good shot of a large, clear drop of pre-cum on the tip of my dick just before it slides down and under, out of view of the camera lens.
I attach that pic to a message and type, *Now I can’t even see the girl! Just a beautiful little pussy I need to fuck.* I add another heart-eyes emoji and send.
You react to my dick pic with a tongue emoji, then send an enlarged praying hands emoji. After a few moments, a set of three photographs arrive: you’re standing in front of the mirror now, wearing the dress, and each pic is front, side, and back, respectively.
*Oh!* I send. *That’s so cute! Looks fantastic on you,* I type out, then add a heart emoji and send. *You should get it.*
*Thank you! I’ll think about it.*
*Movie starts soon, yeah?*
*Yes,* you reply. *We’re heading there next.*
*I hope you enjoy it, my love.*
*Story?* you send, followed by a string of “eyes” emoji.
I send a laughing emoji reaction, pull up my pants, and slide my phone back into my pocket. I have work to get to, after all.
I quickly finish up the laundry and head back to the living room to get back to typing. It’s hours later when I type the last sentence of the chapter and sit back to allow myself a sense of accomplishment. I know I’ll end up revising some of what I’ve written today, but it feels damn good to have finished yet another chapter. I allow myself to hope that there’s a chance I’ll finish this book sometime later this year.
Closing the lid of my laptop, I glance at my phone to see the time. It’s late evening, and you’re probably finishing up dinner with your friends. I figure that gives me maybe half an hour before you get home, so I light up a bowl of cannabis and sit down to fuck my Fleshlight. I play one of our videos while I masturbate: it’s the first time I ever filmed you getting fucked by another man, my birthday more than seven years ago. I marvel at how you seem to be even more beautiful now than you were then.
When I reach the edge of my climax, I have a brief debate with myself over whether or not I should film a clip of myself cumming to send to you. I decide against it and cum deep inside my toy, my eyes rolling back and a long, breathy moan escaping my lips.
“Fuck,” I breathe to myself when the last pulses of my ejaculation have subsided.
I’m cleaning the Fleshlight in the bathroom when I hear the jingle of your keys and the front door opening.
“I’m home,” I hear you call out.
“In here, my love,” I respond in a loud voice so you can hear me down the hall.
“Oh,” you squeak when you come in and see me cleaning my toy. “Not fair! I just missed it!”
“Only just,” I laugh, toweling down the silicon sleeve and setting it on the sink counter to dry with its black case and caps. I look up to see that you’re standing naked in the doorway, the day’s clothes under one arm. “How was the movie?”
“Not anywhere near as fun as that,” you say glumly.
You’re actually pouting now, and it’s cute. I step toward you and put two fingers under your chin, lifting your face so you’ll be looking into my eyes.
“You didn’t miss out on anything you can’t always get from me, my love. And remember: you wouldn’t have gotten any of the good stuff from me in the end.”
“I could have tried,” you complain, making me laugh again.
I lean forward and kiss you, then lightly push you back.
“Go put your clothes away and then come out to the living room so we can watch the next episode. If you’re persuasive enough while we watch, I might still fuck you, little girl.”
“Okay!” You turn and skip off to our bedroom.
I follow you out of the bathroom, but I turn the other way and head down the hall to the living room. I get everything set up to watch the next episode of the halfway-decent superhero show we’re watching on Netflix, and then I lie down on the couch. When you come into the room, I make a little space for you to crawl onto the couch beside me, part of your body on mine and the rest on the furniture. I wrap my arms around you, and immediately I get the sense that you’ll be asleep a few minutes into the episode.
Not long into the episode, my prediction is proven correct: the slow, deep cycle of your breathing tells me that you’ve fallen asleep. I don’t mind. I know I can wake you to fuck anytime I want, and that—coupled with my orgasm less than an hour ago—is enough for me to settle into the warmth of your sleeping body. I start to doze off near the end of the episode, so I stop the show early and turn off the television.
I consider shaking you awake so we can head to bed, but I decide we can just move to bed later in the night if we grow uncomfortable. Shutting my eyes, I allow myself to drift to sleep with a final thought:
Tomorrow is a new day.
The post A Friend’s Fantasy: Penance | The First Day [D/l] [femsub] [restraints] [forced orgasms] appeared first on Hot Indian Sex Stories | Hindi Sex Stories.
0 Comments