Her boobs were perky and her nipples standing out proudly. Right now though, she was looking at me sternly. "You aren't leaving, are you? We made an arrangement last night," she spoke, getting a few steps closer. Then she pushed me back on the bed. "An arrangement in which I'd be your mistress for the weekend." "I don't..," I started, but I didn't finish the sentence as I suddenly did remember. A groan escaped my lips. Shit, what had I gotten myself into? I wasn't even really into that kind of thing, right? "Get your clothes back off. There'll be no need for them." "I don't even know your name." "You don't need to. You'll be calling me Mistress, after all," she spoke, bowing over to the ground, where a whip was apparently lying around. "Now get naked." I stared at the woman before me thoughtfully. I didn't actually have to listen to her, right? I could just leave. Part of me didn't want to however. Part of me was incredibly turned on by the memories of last night, and the fact that. "We split the chores, making short work of spiffing up a house that the two of us kept quite neat on the worst of days. That was the way we'd always done it, from the first days when we were just a couple of people isolated in the footprint of hurricane devastation. Now it was just the way we shared our little house.Little? Yes, compared with some of my acquaintances, mine was a tiny hovel. I knew another engineer with four thousand square feet of McMansion, a mortgage that both he and his wife had to work to pay, utility bills four times mine, and while it was impressive to look at, inside and out, mine was HOME and a real shelter. The young cutie pushing the vacuum cleaner was what nailed down that 'home' thing.I thought about my friend Alan and his unlikely bride living in a travel trailer. I had that travel trailer out there in its shelter and had planned on tying it to our pickup truck and taking off for a vacation this summer. Now I was looking at an entirely different set of.
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