0 comments/ 49417 views/ 1 favorites Saturday Mornings By: MeanElf She was doing it again, tempting me, or at least trying to with her little routine. She is Helen, our new flatmate of a few weeks, and this is the third Saturday morning since our flatmates-night-in-to-get-to-know-everyone- better-Friday – Delia’s idea, not mine particularly, as I prefer to take my time before letting people anywhere inside my life. And now as a result of that soirée, Helen is out there in the living room right now, eating her breakfast while sat on the couch almost directly opposite my door, naked. That in itself isn’t the issue, a rather pleasant thing to endure really, as she is very pleasing to look at, but indulging her in that freedom, was the beginning which led her to starting this, her frequent and casual masturbation sessions on the couch every Saturday morning since. She is out there now, I know she is, I can see her through the keyhole, getting ready to start. Personally I blame Delia, even if she wasn’t there at the time, it’s her fault because she always does this sort of arrangement thing, invariably crashing and burning early, which meant it was left to me to mop up the evening in her absence. That Friday had been no exception, waiting just long enough to kill two bottles of red, and let the atmosphere evolve beyond just polite and the mundane before waving that half-assed little-girl wave of hers, and going off to bed, not to surface for another twelve or more hours – a champion sleeper is our Delia. I had been enjoying the conversation up until that point - well listening to them both talk and wax lyrical about all kinds of amusing shite, occasionally adding the odd comment into the mix, as and when required. Then Delia did her disappearing routine, and I suddenly had to become more active. Helen on her fifth glass of wine, pretty much held up both ends of the conversation for a while, allowing me the grace of a transition period, but eventually levered me into place with: ‘You are pretty easy going, aren’t you. I’d say nothing much would faze you really.’ I’d nodded and pulled one of those speculative faces: ‘Pretty much. And you?’ She laughed in return. ‘Been around I have, seen the ways of others, and don’t shock too easily as a result.’ ‘What do you mean?’ I still kept my answers short, hoping to wind the evening down quickly, despite becoming lightly interested. ‘Oh nothing much, but I lived in Germany and Sweden for a while, and I liked their carefree way of doing things – no nudity taboo, for one.’ My smile was forbearing. ‘That must have been a shock, to come back here then, I mean?’ She went off a short way into thought. ‘Oh, not really – folks have changed here too, since then.’ ‘Yeah, I know what you’re saying.’ ‘What about Delia, she seems okay about most things, but you must know her better. I mean, is she as open as you?’ I looked at her for a second, and came up slightly from my slouch. ‘You asking our permission to walk around naked?’ I topped off our glasses while I was up there. She laughed again, quite unselfconsciously. ‘Well, I wasn’t specifically thinking of just that – but if it was cool, then I’d certainly like to have that freedom.’ ‘Hell, I’m not going to object.’ I shrugged from where I’d returned to my slouch, no mean accomplishment, but necessary to prove a point – because now I felt it was time to see how truly unshockable she was. ‘You could bring yourself off in front of the telly, for all I care. No problems there, not from me – though you’ll have to ask D to be sure of her thinking on…um, that.’ Her smile increased if anything. ‘That’s so sweet.’ Despite myself I must have looked a little confused as she just leant back. ‘You must have heard me, I mean. I need to do it at least six times a day, if not ten. So having such understanding flatmates, would definitely save me having to go into my room each time I fancied a quick play with myself.’ I smiled in return, now I knew she was ribbing me in return. ‘That’s quite a lot.’ I decided to play along. ‘For me three times a day is usually enough.’ ‘Yes, but I have a condition – it’s a compulsion apparently, one that leaves me very susceptible to suggestion. Maybe I shouldn’t be saying this just yet, not to my new flatmates, but I even went to a specialist for a while to cure it, but ended up doing it in front of them every time I was there, which sort of negated the point really – they should have been paying me, not the other way around. That doctor was definitely getting off on it, I could see it in her eyes.’ Either Helen was a very good story-creator, or this was really the truth, because now I wasn’t so sure if this was just a bit of verbal sparring anymore. ‘You had your third of the day yet?’ Her change of tack almost caught me out, but I recovered admirably. ‘After dinner there, before you all came in – Kylie was on the telly, and she always does it for me.’ I was still trying to shock in return, but it didn’t seem to be working as well on her. ‘Mmm, I know what you mean, all that barely controlled need to touch herself while on-screen, that gets me going too. Let’s see if I can’t help with making it four today.’ She deftly opened her jeans, moving a hand inside them as she settled, smiling back at me and lifting her top to partially expose a bra-less breast, then covering it with the other hand’s sliding attentions. I’m not such a tit man myself, so my attention stayed between her thighs, and her hand busy there, like in Emmanuelle where just enough of the fingering motion is visible, to make it a truly erotic experience. So that’s how it happened, I couldn’t believe my luck just then, watching her progressively strip down to naked, and give me the show of my life right there on the sofa, where my mates had sat – this was no sex-film location, but my own place, and that made it so much better. She got her fourth from me that night alright, a fifth also, but we didn’t take it any further, as we both have partners to answer to. If it had remained at that – a wonderfully memorable, if slightly drunken night, then all would have been fine – just the occasional shared, sly smile in passing, to remind us both of what only we two knew. I thought so until the next morning. I came out of my room a bit bleary to find her already on the couch, casually naked with legs apart, stroking at herself almost absently with one hand, while eating some bread with the other, and watching TV. Serendipity had it that Kylie’s song was on the screen again – but it could just have been the nature of hype. ‘Morning – I saw her, so I couldn’t resist. You were right.’ She looked back up to me casually, hand still working away, fingers circling her clit with definite attention. ‘Who, Delia?’ I felt lost. ‘No.’ She nodded at the screen. ‘Care to join me and share your favourite?’ I scratched my head: ‘Ah, no, sorry – already been busy this morning. Did it in bed before getting up, and I’ve got to dash too – but you go ahead and have fun.’ She shrugged. ‘I will.’ And carried on as I went about getting myself ready, finishing her breakfast then laying herself down properly for some serious manipulation. It was most disconcerting seeing her masturbate so casually while I went about my morning preparations, almost as if I wasn’t present – I was fascinated, and needless to say, very hard. I didn’t see her again until later that night, when she was thankfully clothed and acting more conventionally – I didn’t think I could cope with much more of it without jumping on her, so I was secretly grateful. Maybe she’d had sex with her boyfriend and was now satiated, I didn’t know, or even care just then – my main worry was how could I explain it all to Cy, my partner these past eight months, especially if she strolled in one morning to find Helen jilling away to the cartoons on TV and myself eating breakfast. What sort of monster had my casual dare created? She couldn’t have broached the subject to Delia yet, as I didn’t see her naked again until the next Saturday morning, and that was Delia’s ritual sleep in time, so she’d not be out of her room before the afternoon sun came a calling through her window. I’d relaxed enough by that point not to be too fazed by Helen when she walked in wearing just a t-shirt, barely covering her pubes. We chatted politely, just like normal while she went about getting her breakfast and I got myself ready to leave the flat. I should have known though, that things wouldn’t be that simple – coming back into the living room, my eyes were immediately drawn to her lain out on the sofa, with legs open toward me, and sliding two fingers up inside her in an easy rhythm. Her catching me off guard meant I had no will or protection against the erection that came swiftly to life before her. I saw her eyes focus on it and knew I was sunk. ‘Mmm – good morning to you too – didn’t daddy take care of you yet?’ ‘No, not yet – although I will certainly not be long in delaying it, I can tell you.’ ‘Why not now?’ She looked at me mock-coy. ‘There’s always time for a quick tug, and I’m sure that what I’m doing will help.’ I had no way out, and didn’t care if I’d be late anyway – who could say no to this? So I pulled him out and sat beside her, slowly moving my hand up and down in time to her own hand’s sliding in and out. She smiled and watched me, focusing on my dick with something like lust. At eighteen centimetres, it was always an attention drawer on the street, which I was never shy of exploiting, preferring to go commando (whatever that means), and giving the ladies something in return for all their tight clothing-displays – most certainly seemed to appreciate my effort. But in view of the circumstances, I began to worry that she was manipulating not just herself, but the situation and myself as well – I think that she now wanted more than someone to masturbate to. It wasn’t just the mutual buzz anymore, the expression in her eyes said that she’d seen another toy and could think of a far better use for it than currently being demonstrated. Despite that, I came quickly, as did she – and then she let me escape, offering only a slight smile as she watched me go. ‘Think of me when you go to the bathroom at work.’ She called after me quietly, which of course I did. So that brings me to now, sitting on my bed on the third Saturday since that night, knowing that she’s out there ready to tease me more and more, until I crack. Saturday Mornings Saturday mornings are made for sleep. That was her mantra and a ritual that she followed as faithfully as some went to Mass on Sunday morning. The policy was purely out of respect for the dreams that she could never give the attention they deserved during the week. Monday through Friday, the alarm clock seemed to scream her name at 6 AM, forcing her away from the warm beach water engulfing her body or the strong hands of a man pinning her hands above her head. Now, her wrists ached as they were held there, her Master's knee forcing her thighs widely apart as she lay there in her bed. She felt her nipple harden quickly as he moved his mouth to it, gnawing on it roughly. She arched her back, letting out a shriek of pain...or was it pleasure? She rolled over, rudely jolted awake by the shrill ring of the telephone. A low groan escaped her lips as she slowly rolled over toward the nightstand. Her eyes seemed to drift open of their own accord, the flashing red numbers coming into focus. 8:15. Who would be calling her at 8:15 on Saturday morning? Annoyed, she picked up the receiver and quickly slammed it back down on its cradle. No one bothered her before eleven on Saturday morning. Not if they valued their life. A few seconds passed by—just enough time for her to begin drifting back to sleep—before it rang again. It must be important, she thought to herself, reaching over and lifting the phone from its place on the nightstand. As she moved it reluctantly to her ear, she could feel the moisture that had accumulated between her legs. She would do anything to be back in her Master's bedroom, being used as His sex toy... "Hello?" She answered the phone flatly and quietly, the way a person does when they speak the first words of the day. "Don't you ever hang up on me in that manner again." The voice at the other end of the line, velvety and decidedly masculine, was only firm and had not yet progressed to anger. Yet, she knew that she had to watch her step if she was going to avoid His wrath. "Master...it's you..." She tried to yawn as quietly as possible, sitting up and rubbing her eyes. She was still not completely awake, the dream still fresh in her mind. Her nipples were hard, her pussy wet, her chest heaving from that night's dream. Still, she didn't mind being taken away from it. Not when it was Him on the other end of the line. "We will discuss the manner in which you answer the phone later. You will pay for it once I have had time to think about it, but I have other instructions for you right now." "Yes Sir," she responded meekly, feeling a twinge of panic at the mention of a punishment. "I will be there in one hour. I want you shaved and showered. Hair up in a ponytail, top of your head. You will wear your back seam nylons and garter belt. No panties, I want full access. Your black see-through bra. You know where to be, when I arrive." Before she was able to answer Him, she heard a soft "click" followed by the dial tone. Her fingers wandered up towards the medallion around her neck, and then they trailed slowly down through the valley of her breasts to that hot, wet spot between her legs. It was pulsating still from her dream, and she wanted to rub it to release right there on her bed...but there was no time. She only had an hour to get ready... *** He stood outside her door, coolly searching for the correct key. He sorted through His large collection, looking at each key one by one and whistling a merry little tune, making sure that she heard him from inside of her tiny apartment. He knew she would be waiting for Him. She was a good girl. He chuckled to Himself, thinking of all the anxiety she must have put herself through in the last hour. He knew the mind of His girl well enough to know that she had let her imagination run wild wondering He was going to do to her. He took His time, letting her suffer a little bit longer....and smiling at the thought. *** Her knees were beginning to ache. She had been there for ten minutes, or maybe more. She could not know for sure. Once she had assumed her position, she was forbidden to move. If she did, he always knew it. She didn't know how, but He always knew. Normally in this position, she felt herself begin to dry out as she was exposed to the cool, open air. Today, though, she had been too horny to dry out. The juices just kept flowing. Her hands were outstretched in front of her, forcing her shoulder blades together behind her, her nipples brushing the rough carpet underneath her. She was so thankful for the cushion her Master allowed her to have below her forehead. She jumped as she heard the soft humming and the gentle clinking of her Master's keys. This would be the hardest part. She wanted to lift her head and see His face when He moved into the house. Oh, how she wanted to move to Him and throw her arms about Him and kiss Him...but as it was, she was His toy, and she would only do such things when it was permitted of her. She swore she could hear His smile as He opened the door, and she kept count as His boots hit the floor, one by one. It was seven steps from the door to her greeting place. She heard five. Deafening silence followed, and she heard nothing but her heart as it pounded in her ears. It was quick and panicked as thoughts raced about in her head...all of them lusty and exciting, but none of them lingering long enough to be enjoyed. All that was left was the incredible rush she experienced from simply not knowing. The click of the camera sent another wave of endorphins through her already trembling body. She heard two steps. He was right beside her. She could feel Him as He snapped another picture. A finger swept gently along her slit, making her hips thrust even further up into the air. A low chuckle came from His throat as she felt something cool, long, and thick enter into her soaking cunt. Her muscles closed tightly around it, and she allowed a load moan to escape those ruby lips. She felt Him roughly grab her hair by the ponytail and pull her up from the floor and onto her knees. "Do I have to gag you?" She whimpered softly and shook her head as much as His firm grip would allow. She knew better than to speak. He did not allow her the luxury of speech—of any sound—while in this position. She was His toy. She was to be nothing more than that. He released her dark hair suddenly, leaving her scrambling to return gracefully to the position He had designated for her. Her thighs splayed a little wider than before in an attempt to appease His anger, her musky scent filling the room. Her little pearl was pulsating wildly, her body silently begging for her Master's touch... Click. The camera sounded again. And again. She took a deep breath, barely able to control her hand from trailing down to her throbbing clit. The tips of her fingers turned slightly whiter as she dug them into the carpet in front of her. She was put here...and here is where she would stay. *** How beautiful to see His slave kneeling there, pussy and ass thrust upward in offering to Him, bound only by His will. She would not move. She could not, because He did not wish it. What a rush it was for Him, simply to think that she loved Him so much that His very word was law to her. His hand seemed to travel silently down to her bra of its own accord, His fingers expertly unhooking her bra and sliding it up to her wrists, providing instant and effective restraints for her hands. He felt a wide, evil smile spread across His face. He moved down on the floor beside her, watching her mind race with thought after wondrous thought. He allowed His hand to slowly trail from her dripping wet slit up her spine and to her neck. A lovely little gasp escaped her lips as He grabbed the hair at the base of her neck, pulling her head forcefully upwards. With His free hand, He reached down, His fingers wrapping slowly around the toy resting inside of her... *** The dildo was still cold from the lube He had applied, the sheer size of it stretching her inner walls wider than she thought they could go. Still, her muscles clamped onto it, feeling each vein in the toy as her Master began to slowly slide it out of her again. She heard a soft chuckle and felt a sharp pain as He smacked her. "Give it back, you little slut!" He laughed out loud then, giving her two more short spankings before she realized what He wanted and relaxed her muscles, allowing Him to begin to fuck her slowly, deliberately. She pushed her hips involuntarily back up against the toy, letting the entire length of it slip inside of her. She could have sworn she felt the massive plastic cock pressing right up against her diaphragm. She bit her lower lip to keep from moaning, but she couldn't help herself. She soon paid the price, feeling a phallic shaped piece of leather pushed swiftly into her mouth. The dildo was moving in and out of her with more fervor now, her hanging tits dancing to the odd cadence her Master created in His wanton cunt. She could feel His hot breath next to her ear as He began to whisper to her... "Are you my horny little girl, hmmm?" She whimpered softly. "You're such a beautiful whore." She bit down on the penis gag, pulling softly against His grip on her hair. "Such an obedient slave, though. Listen to that sound. You're so wet, my little one. Why are you so excited?" She felt the gag being ripped out from between her lips, knowing what He expected of her. "Because I am a slut, Master..." She responded, getting wetter by the second. "And whose slut are you, little girl?" The pleasure in His voice was heaven to her. "Yours, Master. I am Your slut." The gag was quickly replaced and secured behind her head, followed by a blindfold over her eyes. The toy was pulled from her pulsing cunt and held just in front of her nose, forcing her to breathe in her own sweet aroma. She felt His fingers grasp her hips and neatly trimmed nails dig ever so slightly into her skin as He replaced the toy with His own hard cock. "Is this what you want, slut?" It was all He ever called her, during their sessions. Slut. The word from His mouth made her hot and bothered just to hear it. She did not even attempt to answer. He knew the answer. He thrust into her almost violently, and for a split second she couldn't breathe. She closed her eyes as orgasm washed over her at her Master's command, knowing it would be only the first of many. Her Master's voice lured her into His world of lusty, unbridled passion as He whispered again into her ear, hot breath on her cheek: "Saturday mornings will never be the same, will they pet?" She tipped her head back contentedly, a contented smile forming on her gagged mouth. No, she thought. Saturday mornings will never be the same.