Dinner.

Dinner with co-workers, where I was to be smooth and slick and impressive, and to make everyone know I was a force with which to be reckoned. This was to be my evening, and for the most part it was just that.

However before I left I spent time with my Master, as is my favorite part of every day. This time was silly and goofy and not at all sexual. We chatted and all, and then much too soon it was time for me to leave. I bid him a melancholy goodnight and left for my evening. I thought of him, of course, because not a minute of the day passes that I don’t. But I only thought of him – I did not pine. I did not swoon. I was on even ground and left to strike my impressive work pose at dinner.

The food was fine and the company satisfying and I felt every bit the dominating presence – one of the great ironies of my current existence. To be such a willful and strong person everywhere except my favorite of places: kneeling at his feet. I regaled all with my wit and felt the crowd actually hanging on my every damned word, and yet suddenly there he was. My Master sat in the very center of my thoughts and I could not for the life of me look around him to see my company. He sucked my attention away, and my thoughts of him turned quickly to thoughts not to be had among others. I felt a dreaded blush approaching.

Without warning I excused myself and practically fled to the restroom.

I closed the stall door behind me and dropped my snazzy work slacks unceremoniously around my ankles. I sat on the seat and felt the air, cold as it hit my tremendously slick cunt. Just the few minutes I thought of him at the table had already juiced me up completely. I felt like a puppet, helpless to control her thoughts; her hands. My finger slid over my slit smoothly, sending a crushing shudder through me, and my mind overflowed with thoughts of him. I slowed down the rush and focused on one thought: the feel of his hands on my skin. I let my finger slide again through my moisture and I imagined myself lying long and bare on my bed, hands held over my head in place under his arm and his hand mimicking my finger’s intrepid investigation of every single nerve ‘tween my legs.

In less than six weeks I’ll beg him to make this night’s fantasy a reality. I will happily, eagerly beg him.

But for tonight my sudden fever dream broke in minutes and I pulled myself together. I straightened my snazzy work slacks and my sweater. I splashed cold water on my face and dried myself completely. I returned to the table the perfect image of control and mastery.

Not a single one of them knew the rapture my adoration had just driven me through. All for him.