I opened the front door, stepped inside, closed it, listened. The house was quiet. Not empty-quiet, waiting-quiet. That’s an appealing, arousing, erotic sound.
I hung up my coat. Left the laptop bag in the hall. Wandered into the kitchen. There was a glass of wine on the counter. I smiled, raised it in a silent thankful toast, and sipped. Deep flavors: blackberry, chocolate, oak. I took another sip.
Quiet. She was waiting for me. Just a matter of hunting for treasure.
I found her in my study. Kneeling, eyes lowered. In heels too high to walk in, stockings, garter belt, and a ribbon around her neck. We call that ribbon a depth gauge.
Her hands were behind her head, with her fingers interlaced. I wondered how long she had been waiting. She was so still.
I took one more sip of wine, put the glass down, and unbuckled my belt.
— Frenulum
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