Easter Sunday

"Get down on the floor," he tells me and releases the fistful of my hair.

Already on my knees, I drop immediately, folding my body up in the bottom of the shower, face pressed against the wet floor. The water is pounding on my back, keeping me warm, and I hear the sounds of his palm sliding up and down his cock.

As he reaches orgasm, he bends down and wraps my hair around his left hand, yanks my head up in time to catch a faceful of semen. My tongue darts out and I clean him off once he is done.

... ... ... ...

I'm bent forward, knees straight, legs spread, hands together in front of me, pushing back against him. In the mirror, I see the matching cuffs on both ankles and both wrists, my hair draping down to one side, a fall of black. I catch my own eyes, the pale blue, and the pink flush across my face, red lips. Color on pale skin becomes art, and I glance up to meet his gaze in the mirror.

He thrusts and my mouth opens, a gasped shout.

I see him smile and feel his fingers curl over my hipbones.