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You're sitting at home reading when...

When it is nice and clean I pull it from between your lips and kiss you quickly, My tongue enjoying the taste of your sweet pussy as it lingers on your lips.

Releasing my grip on your hair, I turn you towards the stove. With a playful swat on your fanny, I get My lovely pet girl moving again as I turn and sit down at the table.

"Let's eat, My beauty. I am starving." My eyebrow raises as I watch your lithe form. Then we will discuss dessert."

PET

Still shaking slightly from the experience, I plate your food and bring it to the table. It's a little bit more food than I would normally serve you, but I know my portion will come from your plate, also.

I serve you as you sit at the table, making sure your plate, fork, knife and spoon are all equidistant from the edge of the table. I kneel on the floor beside you, waiting patiently for my portion.

As I kneel, I eye the piece of meat I really want which is steadily growing between your legs.

MASTER

I sit patiently, My eyes never leaving you. Watching with pride as My girl works to make everything perfect. Slim sure little hands placing each item exactly where they need to be.

I often worry I might not be worthy of such an amazing girl. But I also know your heart belongs to Me completely. The love of My pet girl wipes away My fears.

As you kneel on the little padded mat beside Me with a happy sigh, one hand comes down on the back of your head briefly. "My good girl." I see you wiggle with pleasure at My touch.

"My Master." you murmur.

My lips purse, blowing away the steam wafting from the first bite of meat and potatoes before I put it in My mouth. Mmmm... delicious as always. The yummy sounds as I chew make you smile with pride.

Another forkful, properly cooled with My breath. I turn and lower it to your lips, one hand beneath to keep any drips off of your skin. "Eat with Me, pet girl. Enjoy this as I do." One hand atop your thigh and the other resting on My knee you open your mouth and take the offered bite.

I just love finding things to put between those soft full lips. Keeping them occupied is My passion. It takes effort on My part not to hurry through this wonderful meal, eager to move on to something just as exciting.

Down between My legs, My prick pulses against My thigh. Growing harder with each passing moment. Distended veins thumping out a primal rhythm of desire.

PET

Each bite is ambrosia. Not because I am prideful of my cooking, it is mediocre at best. No, it is the act of being fed. Fed from Your plate. At Your table. By Your side. At Your hand. My need grows with each bite, each swallow, each satisfying mouthful.

My eyes take in Your growing arousal at every chance. Oh, how I long for dessert. The hand on Your begins a slowly path upward, centimeter by centimeter, carefully moved so as not to attract attention. As if working towards not waking a sleeping cobra. But I must touch it, I must.

I ache and wiggle as the meal drags on.

MASTER

I purposefully drag out My dinner, savoring each bite. Enjoying each mouthful I present to your lips. Leaning down and collecting warm kisses between bites.

My pet girl's cooking gets better and better each day. Because she loves to please Me. And partially because of the large collection of wooden spoons in the caddy set on the counter. Used both for cooking and improving her skills. Master is often miserly in His choice of toys. But always with an eye towards efficiency. I enjoy the little shiver as My girl reaches for one whether she is cooking or bringing it to Me in her teeth.

I am also quite aware of the soft little hand inching up My thigh. As I mop up the last of the gravy with the final bite and present it to your lips, My hand reaches down and lays atop yours, stopping you briefly. The disappointment in your eyes vanishes as I move your hand upwards to cover the bulge of My prick beneath My uniform pants. Small fingers wrap around My girth and you squeeze, delighted.

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