CaptR
Posts: 425
Joined: 4/25/2012
Status: offline
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I awoke to the smell of breakfast and coffee. Predawn light outlined the gathered curtains on the French porch doors of my bedroom. The feel of crisp sheets cool to the touch told me she was about her morning routine.
Rising, cock semi erect I open the doors to the sound of waking birds and feel the breeze over my naked body. The sky is clear with a promise of sun and an early morning ride.
Looking down I see the cat has left her offering at the door. Shaking my head I smile inwardly in appreciation and recognition of how hard it is to deny instinct. Thank you little hunter but I prefer the omelette I know will be done soon to the furry morsel so thoughtfully donated. I'll have to give her a good neck scratch after I dispose of the nights harvest.
On my way to the bathroom I hear The dogs being told to sit so "Mommy can give you a treat!" They're spoiled brats. Bird hunting, run of the farm and an attentive woman to ruin them as house dogs given the chance defines their existence. Oh they'll point, honor each other in the field, flush on command and bark a fit if someone comes up the drive ... then lick you to death. Wonderful watchdogs, ruthlessly happy and leading the life of Riley. Come prepared to be slobbered.
After a quick shower I toss on a shirt and jeans. Padding downstairs on bare feet I hear the once "good boys" being admonished for sniffing too high on the table. Thieves! biscuit bandits the both of them! They're shoo'd outside before any real damage occurs. There's hope they'll keep their canine identities yet.
I watch from behind as she shuts the door. Wearing one of my old dress shirts rolled up at the sleeves. Her wavy dark hair in a loose ponytail, one last fuss at the "boys" and she turns. I will never tire of looking at her.
Though lines may form and canvas age, the beauty captured by the artist that created her will never fade.
She bears the signs of submission on her arms, wrists and ankles. During breakfast I'm pleased when I catch her smile while touching the rope marks from the previous nights play. Last night was the beginning of a long overdue weekend for just the two of us. We've no plans off the farm today so barring unexpected guests she'll be cuffed and collared on our ride.
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