my new favorite sight.
Or not quite so new, considering that since we hooked up she's been sleeping in my bed whenever there was a chance that I would use it during the night at some point, but I think it will never lose its novelty. I can spend hours gazing at her, although I don't tell her, because she’ll think it's creepy. I don't intend to stop doing it any time soon though.
The shrilling of her alarm clock breaks my Bella watching meditation, and I spend the next ten minutes kissing and groping her. At first she is still grumpy because she has to get up, then she protests, but it doesn't take much to persuade her to give in to me.
Too bad that I don't realize that she really means it when she tells me that she has to leave in fifteen minutes once she finally escapes my grasp and runs into the bathroom, so I find myself sitting alone in the kitchen for breakfast. I decide to cut my losses and take my bowl of cereal outside onto the terrace, and on second thought fetch the OJ carton, too. It's only half the fun drinking it when Bella can't catch me, but at least I can claim consistency with my rebellious action.
I love our new condo. Close to the bay, in walking distance from Bella's job, only ten minutes commute to the hospital. The lower floor is pretty much one huge room, with picture windows that open onto the terrace on one side. If we decide to have kids, we'll have to move again, but for the moment it's perfect.
Bella wanted to move, and I didn't protest for a second. Best decision ever.
There are just too many memories I want to forget in the old house, and I'm sure she's not doing better in that aspect.
Esme found it for us, and for once in my life I'm happy my mom meddled.
She never admits it, but I'm pretty sure that she's been looking for something ever since she heard of my word vomit proposal. The tour with the realtor she dragged me along on I will probably never forget. Her astute, “My son likes to bang on things so we need something with good sound proofing” made me keel over laughing. Not that I really care what the realtor thinks. The previous owner was drummer in a band, and I'm sure we'll never exceed those noise levels.
Unless I spank Bella outside on the terrace, which I think I'm going to do next weekend. I know how much she likes to whimper, moan, and cry out when I bend her over my knee, should be interesting to see what she'll do when she has to stay silent.
Of course now my c**k is unbearably hard, but I keep myself from wanking out here. Even I have limits of what I'll do, and without Bella indecent behavior is only half the fun.
When I'm done munching my Frosted Flakes, I take the used dish inside and leave it in the dish washer before I dress and leave the house. I'm early for my shift, with half an hour to spare, so I drop by Beth's for a coffee and a quick chat.
Just my luck that Beth isn't manning the counter, and I groan inwardly as Raven perks up when she sees me come inside. I have to admit, she's attractive, and if she weren't riding the Goth wave a little too hard, and wasn’t working for Beth, I might have hit that in times of need, but as it is I try to limit conversations with her to an absolute minimum.
Raven knows what I am, and that's the only reason she's trying to follow me around like a fawning little fangirl. She's not really into BDSM, but apparently her world view dictates that she find herself some ass**le who consistently ignores or abuses her. I've never given her any reason to believe that I'm even moderately interested in her, but she's persistent.
Unless Beth discourages her, I don't think she'll ever give up. But at least that keeps her from falling for that aforementioned kind of guy, so I suffer my lot, mostly, in silence.
“Master Edward, it's so good to welcome you back to our humble establishment,” she drawls, batting her black rimmed eyes at me.
I can't help it, I smirk, because seriously, I'm standing here in my old Nikes and Scrubs, it doesn't get any farther from your stereotypical Mean Dom look. And Bella must be the only one I ever encountered who gets that randy look on her face when she sees me in scrubs. Not that I mind her scrubs fetish, I mean who protests getting attacked by their girlfriend the moment they come home, but I really don't see the appeal.
Sadly, Raven takes my involuntary mirth as a sign, and dons an even more flirtatious look as she leans towards me over the counter. She's tall and reed thin, so the move exposes a sliver of skin on her lower back as the silk corset she's wearing rides up. I tell myself again that in fact I'd never have hit that, as in spanking, as she's just too frail. Nothing against skinny women, but I like to dig my fingers into some ass, and not have to worry if I'll bruise myself on those hip bones.
“Will you come to the play party in three weeks? Mistress Beth will be sending out invitations soon, but I thought it more prudent to ask you firsthand, Sir.”
Again I have to bite my tongue to keep from laughing. It's sentences like that that always kill me. Her boss, who she knows is my close friend, and a Domme, is inviting people, but she is asking me to come? If she really were all about protocol, she would never do that. Or look me in the eye, for that matter. Not that I give a shit about that, but Raven is as fake as the flunkies get.
“Thank you, Raven, I don't know yet if we have time, I'll have to ask Bella first. Maybe we'll show up.”
As expected, my answer takes all the wind from her sails. Mentioning the fact that I have a fiancée always does, and the notion that I even consider asking her first must be among the most unthinkable things for Raven.