Work Header

She’s Waiting

Work Text:

You’re almost a block from home when your phone dings. She’s texted you an address. That’s it. No explanation. You’re exhausted. But this message means she is feeling dominating. Your day has been hell. But you don’t even think twice before turning on your heels and hailing a cab. You know whatever her plan is, it’ll be worth it.


When the cab pulls up to the address, you triple check it. It looks abandoned and you message her a pic of the outside and a question mark. She responds, “I’m waiting.”


You throw your money at the driver and slam the door as you rush up the steps. You knock, but hear no movement inside. It’s unlocked, and you make your way into the abandoned townhouse. There’s no furniture that you can see. There’s an old staircase straight ahead and two rooms on either side that both look like they could have been living rooms. An old piano sits collecting dust in one of them. Your phone dings, “Up.”


You climb the stairs eagerly. Too eager to care how they creak creepily underfoot. At the top, a hallway greets you, either go left or go right. Something tells you to go left, so you do.


You pass several closed doors. You try one but it’s locked. At the end, one door is slightly ajar. You step in.


She sits in a green chair. It looks out of place in the room that could have once been a bathroom? You’re not sure but it doesn’t matter. Because there she is. Her arm is slung across the back of the chair. Her legs crossed delicately, covered in sheer black tights. Your eyes start at the heels she is wearing, the pointed heel long and sharp. Your eyes travel up for what seems like a year as her legs go on and on for miles. They come to a simple black dress around the tops of her thighs and a round her midsection. The top covers only her breasts, leaving two skinny straps holding it on her body. Her sternum, collarbones, shoulders, arms, wrists, fingers...are bare. And begging to be devoured. Finally, her face. She stares at you. Her expression is one of strength. Her eyes say, “I will kill you if I want” and her smirk says, “and you’d love every second of it”.


“Took you long enough.” She says with a stern tone that sends a shiver down to your core. You want to grab her but you know that she is in charge right now.


You gulp, “I’m sorry.”


She raises an eyebrow.


“I’m sorry, mistress.”


One edge of her mouth quirks into a satisfied smirk. And then it’s gone just as fast. Replaced with another look of power.


“Come here.”


Your legs tremble as you step towards her. Each step makes your heart beat faster and your breath more shallow. You come to stand directly in front of the chair and pause, looking down at her perfect face.


She shifts to face you fully, her arm coming down from the back of the chair. She looks directly into your eyes and she slowly uncrosses her legs and spreads them until there’s enough room for you to stand in between them. You do.


You lean down, desperate to kiss those luscious lips. As soon as your mouth gets close to hers, she opens her lips and closes her eyes. You close your eyes too, moving the last inch to let your lips meet hers. You can feel her breath enter your mouth and then. Her hand closes around your neck. Tightly.


Your eyes pop open in surprise and she has already opened hers again and she stares at you. She pushes you away, her perfect lips now out of reach and you whimper. She tightens her fingers around your neck to remind you not to whine. The pressure is strong and you can feel the heat between your legs intensify. You drop your gaze to her chest as she pushes you further down. Your breathing is difficult with the pressure of her fingers around your airway, so you gasp a little, your breath releasing onto the skin of her chest. You see her shiver slightly from the feeling.


Her other hand reaches to your shoulder and as she begins to push you further down, her hand releases your neck and takes hold of the other shoulder. One look in her eyes and you know what she’s doing. You take her direction and kneel between her legs.


You hover a hand above her thigh, now dangerously close to your face. You look to her, silently asking permission. Her eyes  sparkle and you know her well enough to know she’s saying yes. Your hand glides across her thigh, feeling the sheer fabric and rubbing it into her skin. Your other hand comes to do the same on the other leg. Keeping eye contact, you run your hands up and under her dress, preparing to pull the tights down and off of her. Your hands stop, eyes blazing, as you realize they aren’t tights but thigh-high stockings. She’s completely bare underneath the dress. Again, her eyes send flames into yours.


Before she can even think about controlling you, you grab each hipbone and simultaneously jerk her hips forward and duck so that her thighs land on top of your shoulders. One of her hands flies into your hair and you immediately dive in between her legs.


At the first lick, you growl as she gasps. She loves to play the domineering one but you both know that as soon as your mouth connects to her core, she loses the ability to be in control. You’re too good. You know exactly what she likes and when she likes it. You know how to surprise her, even after you’ve done this together so many times. Things that she never liked before, you know how to do it in a way that drives her crazy. And you both love it.


A few minutes in and she is gripping your hair aggressively and you can feel her hips trying to grind into your face, even as your fingers burn bruises into her skin. She’s moaning and crying out, getting closer and closer every second. You double your efforts and then pull back. Then repeat.


Every time you bring her almost there, her thighs tighten around your head and her fingers scratch your scalp. You can feel her chest lift into the air as her back arches and her head is thrown back. And then you pull back and her whole body deflates. She groans at every almost completion, and you smirk into her folds before going back in even deeper and even faster. She is gasping for breath. Desperate for release, she cries out, begging for it. You give it to her.


A few strategically placed licks, followed by an intense round of sucking on her clit, and finally, finally, you bite down ever so gently on it and she explodes.


“Yyyyyyyesssss” she gasps for breath in relief as she comes. You drink her in eagerly, barely noticing the fingernails embedded in your scalp or the sharp heel pressing into your shoulder blade from behind. You moan into her as she shakes around you. You delight in the way her folds tremble beneath your lips and tongue as you slowly bring her down.


Eventually, her grip on you lessens and you gently give the soft part of her inner thigh gentle kisses with some light suckling. Her breath is still shallow but she pulls you up by the hair to finally kiss you. And yes, you do feel a little like she has killed you and yes, you did enjoy every damn second of it.