The Coffee Shop will Never be the Same…

I was a hurting unit when we met. I could barely get in and out of my car, and sitting was agony. Fucking sciatic nerve! He was solicitous. He was kind. He bought me an amazing cuppa (Irish Tea is my new love!) and we shared a cheesecake that was…meh. But spending time with Him did wonders for my depressed spirit.

After about 40 minutes, I couldn’t sit any longer.

“I have to stand, Master.”

“well then…stand.” He says. He watches me rise painfully to my feet.

“come here.”

By now there is only He and I in the wee sitting area; the party of 4 very noisy, boisterous 20-somethings having (finally) finished their coffee and wild laughter and departed a few minutes earlier. The guys at the counter had gone back to the kitchen.

“Turn around.”

He runs His hand over my  hip, my lower back, pressing firmly, yet gently.

“Oooh” I moan as His fingers find the center of my pain.

“yes. sciatic nerve involved there,” He says. “How’s this?”


His finger finds my buttcrack and push my dress into it. Until they reach my pussy from behind and He is cupping me.

“oOOOOH!” I moan.

“You’re such a slut nilla,” He says, His voice dark and quiet.

I move a little on His hand, torn between embarrassment and that sudden hard slap of lust. His other hand rests on my hip, fingers massaging there, holding me steady as His other hand moves all along my slit.

He’s sitting so that He can see the counter. His naughty hand moves out of my very personal space and goes back to rubbing my lower back. It hurts, but it feels good, too. I half look up and see one of the young men manning the counter again. He’s looking our way, but I don’t care.

“Yes…that’s the spot,” I hear myself say. Yet my mind is lodged right where His hand was moments before. I want Him to touch me again. Forget that I’m embarrassed…the submissive state, the horny need, the “wanton switch” that flips me from vanilla mom to submissive slut has been flicked to “ON”…and I don’t care what’s going on around me. My world has shifted focus, from coffee shop, to Him.

That is all that exists as I feel His hand slide back over my ass, and rub at my clit. Yes, I’m dressed in a dress, but I didn’t have undies on. His fingers rubbed and pinched and teased until I was a wreck.

And then He bid me to sit.

No o then.

No O that night.

Just a turned on submissive, left to wallow in her juices.

A potent reminder that I’m His.

About vanillamom

For over 8 years--(EIGHT?!) nilla and M have been a D/s couple. I'm the "small s" side of that designation, as he often reminds me. I'm silly and prone to giggling at inopportune times. He's a wicked Sadist, who feeds me my drug of choice--pain. My brain is always spinning dirty and dark little fantasies, which I sometimes share with the world. Welcome to the nilla-verse. It's wet and slippery here...with a dragon or two lurking.
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3 Responses to The Coffee Shop will Never be the Same…

  1. abby says:

    They always find a way don’t they? So happy to read that the two of finally had some time together….
    hugs abby

  2. sofia says:

    Delighted that he found a way to “reach” you. {Hehee}


  3. Wordwytch says:

    Wolf does that to me. Hit the sore spot, make another spot hot and juicy, and then curls me up like a boy with a teddy and Poof! I’m asleep. drat him.

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