Dealing with the devil

He arrived home and while one was kneeling to remove his shoes, he amused himself by stroking and tugging one's hair. Though it hardly aids one's capacity to undo the double knots He favours, it is a sensation that one just adores. Almost as much as when He pressed one up against the kitchen bench, slid his fingers between very moist lips and nibbled at one's neck... but one digresses. See this isn't about His distraction techniques... more a tale about being careful about what you agree to do when you are in a post orgasmic haze.

Over breakfast He said now, I'm taking you to work? You are? He looked at one with a cunning glimmer crossing his eyes. Well I will, but you know the proviso. No root, no ride one parroted dutifully. That's the one He said, flashing white teeth.

Later after a few orgasms and in a state of bliss, one snuggled up next to Him sighing that there was no desire to go to work at all. That's OK, I so don't want to have to get up and drive you He retorted. So not an option one countered, reaching to peer at the clock to see what the time actually was. Hmm might be able to make the bus if one gets a move on. Oh, He said hopefully.

Scampering out the door one shot at Him, don't think one hasn't noticed that you broke the code. It makes up for all those times you've reneged, He retorted. It doesn't work like that... it's like sick leave. You can't accrue it. Actually I can He said smugly. But thank you, it will be nice to just go straight to bed.

He just had to rub it in.

Bastard!