What we yearn for (unedited)

12 Milan

Warning: Chapter will contain, unprotected sex, slight edging, introduction to/light milf/mommy role play kink, introduction to lactation kink and intro to female domination.

It almost feels surreal: One moment Elle's giving me the go-ahead, the next I'm turning my car around heading toward my place, and then finally we're at my loft.

Nervous doesn't feel accurate to describe how I feel when I see Elle walk into the center of my living room. When we were at my  door, she'd already been taking off her heels so by now she was holding them by the straps in her fingers. she does a slow turn around to ogle at my place. But I'm too busy gawking at the way her rain-soaked dress clings to her body like a second skin.

In awe feels more accurate.

I'd felt guilty about getting her caught in the rain after we pulled into my parking spot. But now I'm grateful to see her like this. rain soaked, damped from head to toe with a lazy smile on her face.

"It's a lot cleaner than I expected" she says, once she stops her visual tour.

"You sound surprised."

"A little," she admits. "But then I remember your photography studio was pretty clean, too."

"Actually, I can't take too much credit for that...or my place for that matter." I give the back of my neck a rub. "I hire someone. They help with nearly everything."

"What do they help with specifically? Like, cooking, cleaning...showering?" Theirs mirth in her tone but even had they're not been I can tell from the look glimmering in her eyes that she's joking.

I indulge.

"What do you mean?"

"I mean, if you needed to take shower after getting caught in the rain, would you need their help?"

I chuckle, "No, Elle. I can do that on my own."

"Well, that makes one of us," she says, taking slow steps toward me, until she's right within arm's length. "I'm not the most capable on my own when I'm tipsy like this. I could use a shower...and some help in it."

Well, Shit.

My dick throbs almost painfully at words.

I hear her. 

I mean actually hear her. Before when we were car, she was asking to come over. Admittedly that made my heart skip as if it'd been directly injected with adrenaline (and I may or may not beat myself up later for allowing myself to feel like some attention starved puppy). While I was excited at that, logically I knew a number of things could happen and that it didn't actually mean we'd have sex. She could have very well fallen asleep on my couch and I accepted that possibility -even though it silently made my stomach twist in knots-. 

Shifting from one foot to the next, I clear my throat. "Help with what exactly?"

"Well," She softly laughs, "what do you think?"

A response was at the tip of my tongue, but for the life of me I can't say it. I'm too focused on the movement of Brielle's hands, lifting in what feels in slow motion. She angles it reaching behind her neck, to the string of her halter dress.

"Elle..." I utter her name quietly, without taking my eyes off her hand as if in a trance. "What are you doing?"

wordlessly, she pulls the string of her halter to unravel the knot.  she pulls her now loose halter, down beneath her breast, past her waist, down her hips before finally letting it drop to my floor.