Awaiting His Touch (part 1)
I open the front door, nervously peering in as it swings silently on its hinges. Taking a deep breath to distill any apprehension you might be able to hear in my voice or step and to slow my heart beat, I close the door loud enough that you can hear and audibly lock the deadbolt. I follow the detailed directions you gave to the room where you’re waiting for me, planting my sneakers firmly onto the hard floor so you can hear my approach. I open the door and my breath is momentarily taken away as I see you in person for the first time. You are a sight to behold, kneeling on the floor in front of me with your legs slightly spread, pantied ass cheeks resting firmly on your bare ankles and heels, …