Choice

Saturday is my day of break from work, break from Jack too.

It may be something also to do with last night being Jack's slave night. I feel free and empowered.

I waken at ten, have a bubble bath alone, then stretch on our bed (Jack has been sent out on errands) naked, my limbs askew, staring at the overhead mirror and admiring my body's forms.

Lazily I caress my nipples, myself, and am always surprised to find they respond, tautening with wonder .

My fingertips graze down my belly, skirting the faint hair that Jack seems to cherish shaving, to the cleft now more visible and the hood quite bare. I stroke the hood and my young prince stands proudly, I stroke again and my lips start to shudder.

I back away and massage my cleft, my lips, letting my fingers wander into what my mother said was forbidden territory, "down there".

I tremble a little , as the pleasure begins to build, but I don't feel guilty anymore, whether a mother or a man is here or not. I'm a free woman, I choose when and where I pleasure myself or get pleasured.

I love Jack but on my own terms.

On Wednesdays and Sundays, I know I surrender to him but that is my choice,

and the rest of the week he is mine.