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Mistress Fanchon raises some heck!
It was fogged over, so I took a dry wash rag and wiped away the condensation. Then I combed my hair back and scrunched it into waves. My slanted green eyes looked fired up as I stared at my reflection and I gave myself a conspiratorial look as I addressed my reflected image, "You are out of control." Even though my statement was truth, I couldn't have cared less. My body was burning with an aching need.
Grinning to myself, I headed to the kitchen completely nude. I turned on some 90's hip-hop music and to the sound of Eminem telling me to shake my ass, I began preparing a tossed salad. When I was finished, I placed the salad in the refrigerator and grabbed two potatoes from the pantry. Then I foiled them and placed them in the oven. The steaks were still a little frozen, but I went ahead and slipped them into a zip-loc with a teriyaki marinade. Dinner was set, now I had to figure out what I wanted to wear.
Returning to my bedroom, I headed straight to the wicker dresser that filled one of the turquoise walls. I opened my lingerie drawer and began thumbing through my panties. A red and black lace pair caught my attention and I pulled them out. They were my favorite. I slipped them on and walked over to the full-length mirror and twisted my body around so I could see how they looked from behind. Just like I hoped, the heart-shaped peek-a-boo cut-out cradled my rounded cheeks. They were flat-out sexy.
I turned around and examined myself from the front. My damp blond hair hung in waves to my collarbones. My day in the sun had left me tanned except for my size b breasts. They were several shades lighter than the rest of me and the contrast made my dark-pink nipples stand out. My belly was flat and lead to a small scrap of black-edged red lace that barely covered my mound. I looked hot and I knew it and that thought filled me with pleasure. Not in an arrogant way, no, I was just feeling good. Believe me when I tell you, being pursued by a gorgeous guy James's age is a confidence booster.
I stepped over to the closet door and opened it. My decision was easy. I pulled out a new black knit sundress from the crowded closet and slipped it over my head. The dress hugged my curves and barely cleared my ass and the back plunged to my waistline. The dress just yelled fuck me and I hadn't had the courage to wear the scrap of material away from home. It seemed the perfect time to break my new outfit in. I bent over and grabbed a pair of black leather flip-flops and slipped them on.
After I was finished dressing, I returned to my bathroom to put on a little make-up. Mascara and a smear of muted red lipstick and I was done. As I headed back to the kitchen, I stopped and put on a pair of large silver hoops.
When I entered the kitchen, Bone Thugs and Harmony was playing on my speaker and I immediately began to dance around the kitchen. With a smile on my face I pulled out two dinner plates and stacked them next to oven. Then I went into the living room. Even though it was light outside, I lit the small white votives scattered around the small room. I also lit a stick of musk-scented incense. While I was preparing for James's arrival, I realized I was more revved up than I had been in a long time. This realization only heightened my sense of impending ecstasy.
It was six-thirty, when I glanced at my phone. Since I had thirty-minutes to wait, I took a seat on the brown leather couch that dominated the small room. Once, I had gotten comfortable, I pulled out the leather-bound journal I kept in the coral-painted end table next to the oversized sofa.
Because all emails sent to an aircraft carrier are open to scrutiny, I couldn't tell my husband about my ongoing escapades as they unfolded. Instead, I wrote about my naughty encounters in the journal. Every time Doug returned from a deployment, I read my entries to him. These moments always ended with me bent over.
Opening the journal, I began to write.