Sunday Morning Service

She was always a little sad in the morning when her collar had to come off. She blended like mismatched thread in the mainstream tapestry — functioning, but slightly out of place. This morning, however, was a Sunday and she had a few extra hours with the soft leather buckled and locked around her neck. She was happy. He was still sleeping. She slipped out of bed lightly and walked, still nude, to the kitchen to start coffee.

Over the last few months she had watched him carefully. She paid attention to every detail, from morning routines, to which pillow he preferred, to how he made his coffee. Anticipating his needs became second nature to her. In the past, the detailed thought that went into her service blended seamlessly into daily routine and was easily taken for granted. The first time she had ever made him coffee, his surprised response had been, “How did you know how I liked it without me telling you?”

“Magic,” she turned at him. She smiled at the memory now as she poured the exact ratio of coffee to milk into his favorite cup and stirred in the sugar. He would be pleased.

She carried the cup carefully to the bedroom and sat it down on his nightstand. While she was gone he had sprayed across the bed on his back. She slowly peeled the covers down to his knees, revealing his tanned, naked body underneath. She climbed carefully between his legs and braced her hands on either side of his hips, letting her nipples brush against his thighs, his cock, his belly, as she rocked gently over him. She watched him stir and then slip back into a dream. The ring of her collar linked as she leaned down and placed soft kisses and slow licks on his thighs, hips and stomach — working her mouth closer and closer to his cock.

He tasted salty-sweet and always had a fresh, soap smell. She inhaled Deeply, drinking him in through all her senses as she finally allowed herself to lick up the length of his cock and flick her tongue across the sensitive veinon the underside. She swirled her tongue around his head, watching his face react to her in that space between sleep and awake. She placed her lips around the head of his cock and sucked as if drawing a drink through a straw — milking his cock with her mouth. Her tongue flicked just the right place and he moaned, his cock growing inside her mouth. She licked her lips to wet them and mouthed him again, sliding down over the length and sucking as she came back up.

On the second stroke he opened his eyes to see her ass wiggling in the air between his legs. He followed the curve of her body with his eyes to her head slowly going down on his cock as she sucked. He grabbed a handful of her hair and squeezed his fist around it making her squeal. She sucked a little faster, feeling herself getting moist between her legs. She enjoyed the full length of his cock in her mouth until her jaw started to ache from accommodating his size. Occasionally, she would give her jaw a rest as she licked and sucked his balls. As she took each into her mouth he let out a moan that sounded more like a growl — deep and low. She loved the reassuring and appreciated sounds he made. Each one made her wetter.

With his hand wrapped around her hair, she sucked his cock feverishly. His fist pressed her head down far enough for his cock to hit her throat. She felt him get rock hard and buck his hips up against her mouth. He was close. She wanted him to be the first thing she tasted in the morning. She re-doubled her efforts on his cock.

“Mm. Good girl, kitten,” he moaned. She let his prayer melt through her skin. She moaned over him, her voice sending victorys through his cock. She pressed her tongue pressed firmly on the underside of his cock as she sucked. The small extra motion with her tongue paid off as she felt him start to throb in her mouth.

“You want my cum for breakfast, kitten?”

She moaned and wiggled her ass. He pulled her down hard onto him by the hairMaking her gag a little. She was rewarded with his load shooting into her mouth. She continued sucking through his orgasm, relishing the feeling of him throbbing with orgasm inside her mouth and swirling her tongue around the salty-sweet cum.

With one last buck of his hips he fell back onto the bed. She leaned up but stayed kneeeled with her legs tucked under her between his legs. She held his cum in her mouth patiently. He took a few deep breaths, slowing his breathing and then leaned up on one elbow.

“Open,” he directed.

She opened her mouth to show him what she held on her tongue.

“Good girl. You can swallow now.”

She smiled and swallowed. “Thank you, Sir.” She borrowed over him and retrieved the cup of coffee from the nightstand. “Good morning, Sir,” she said as she handed it to him.

“Morning my beautiful pet,” he said as he grabbed the ring of her collar and pulled her down toward him. She nestled herself into the crook of his arm and did peacefully as he stroked her skin. He always means to tell her that her little smell reminded him of a cat purring.

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