Morning Devotion to My Queen
I woke up long before the sun, my mind already racing with the tasks of the day. But more importantly, I remembered the promise I had made to my queen the previous night while I attended to her in the shower. She wanted me all to herself this morning—to play, to serve, and to surrender. I knew the house wouldn’t run itself, so I moved with quiet efficiency, showering in the guest bath to avoid disturbing her slumber.
I dressed not in my own clothes, but in the uniform she adored. The apron felt slightly ridiculous, yet it was a symbol of my devotion, a physical manifestation of the role I loved to play for her. By the time the clock struck eleven, I had prepared a succulent breakfast and slipped into her bedroom. I set the tray beside the bed and knelt at her feet, beginning the ritual of her awakening.
I massaged her feet with rhythmic, swirling motions, watching a small, sleepy smile form on her lips. When I pressed soft kisses to her toes, she responded by pushing her foot firmly against my mouth. I opened for her instantly, using my tongue to tease and refresh the spaces between her toes. Her voice, husky with sleep, drifted down to me. “Mmm, my favorite breakfast,” she murmured. “Come here.”
I rose to meet her, our lips meeting in a kiss that started tenderly but quickly ignited into something far more passionate. She gripped the back of my neck, her tongue dancing with mine, her eyes sparking with a playful hunger. “We are going to have such a wonderful day,” she whispered. “Get in position.”
I obeyed immediately, lying back on the specially prepared section of the mattress. She straddled me, her weight settling perfectly as she lowered herself, positioning her warmth directly over my mouth. “Hands!” she commanded. I raised my arms, and she placed the breakfast tray upon them. I became her living table, her human furniture, holding the tray steady while she enjoyed her meal and the luxury of my total submission.
As she relaxed, I focused entirely on her, my tongue working to provide constant, humming pleasure. I felt her left foot press firmly against my groin, a silent reminder of who I belonged to. The sensation sent a shiver of ecstasy through me, leaving me in a state of trance-like devotion. I didn’t care about the ache in my arms or the strain in my neck; the only thing that mattered was the sound of her soft moans and the scent of her skin.
When the meal was finished, the play intensified. She guided me deeper, demanding every ounce of my effort as I massaged her breasts and explored her most intimate depths. The world outside the bedroom ceased to exist. There was only the heat of her body, the taste of her desire, and the overwhelming joy of knowing that for today, I was exactly where I wanted to be: completely and utterly hers.