Chapter 5: Saturday Brunch

I almost laughed when I entered the spare room and saw what lay on the bed. "Well, this won't take long," I thought.

Lying on the bed was a matching skirt and top, and garter belt and stockings, all in black. It wasn't until I lifted them from the dark bedspread that I realized that the skirt and top were quite sheer, maybe more than the stockings! They were made of a loose nylon mesh. The top flowed from my shoulders to just below my breasts, with long sleeves ending in ruffles. The top seemed to drip down my body from my shoulders. I noticed that almost any movement of my torso would bare the undersides of my breasts. I realized that hardly mattered though, since it was so sheer they were readily visible anyway.

I picked up the garter belt. It was black, narrow, and ruffled, with four garters. I clipped it in front of me and then turned it around, settling it around my waist comfortably. When I picked up the sheer black stockings I noticed that they were control top hose, so the garter belt wasn't actually necessary. "Ha," I thought wryly, "as if any part of this outfit is 'necessary.' Well, maybe the shoes," I added to myself.

Then I had an odd thought. The shoes were mine and they were a necessity. What Ken had provided was not. Like my life. I had all that was necessary. I could have had a professional build the deck, but it would have been just a deck. There would have been no memories attached to it. What Ken brought was the joy. He brought color and depth, and ... fun. Well, Becky was fun too, but I couldn't share my life with her. Someday she would leave and have her own life. I could share my life with Ken. God, I really do love him.

I finished fastening the hose. The tension of the elastic caused the belt to ride down lower to my hips. I stepped into my shoes and looked at myself in the full-length mirror on the closet door. The heels sculpted my legs. The hose lengthened them. The garter belt framed my bush and accentuated the soft curve of my belly. I turned to examine my rear and was astonished at how pert my tush looked because of the heels and garter belt. Damn, I looked fuckable!

Finally I donned the skirt which consisted of two square panels that were joined only at the thin waistband. It left two wide slits on either side for the length of the skirt, well what length there was anyway! It did cover the stocking tops. I checked myself one final time in the mirror to ensure that everything was straight and then proceeded down the hall to the kitchen, my heels clicking on the hardwood floor.

When I got to the kitchen his back was to me as he retrieved croissants from the toaster oven.

"Well that took longer than I expected," he said, his back still to me. "Everything okay?"

I posed just inside the door with my arms slightly raised on the doorframe, exposing the swell of my breasts. I placed one foot forward, opening the slit in the skirt. I lowered my chin and looked toward him, up through my lashes. "Yes Master," I purred.

That got him! He turned and his jaw dropped. He managed to get the plate of croissants back to the counter before dropping it. He was wearing my favorite of his robes. The one I liked to steal when I stayed here. I never brought a robe when I stayed at his house, just for the excuse to wear it. I loved its softness and how it smelled of him and his cologne. It's a short blue silk robe, which exposes a healthy expanse of his muscular legs. The front was rapidly becoming tented. As the smooth material parted I could see that he was wearing the silk boxers I gave him on his last birthday. I hoped they couldn't handle the strain.

He closed his mouth and swallowed. "You look magnificent," he breathed.

"Thank you, Master"

"Turn," he said quietly, twirling his finger.

I slowly spun myself around allowing him to partake of the view from all sides.

He shook himself from his reverie. "Present your ass," he ordered.

I turned again, bent at the waist, and flipped the back panel of my skirt up. I then reached back and grasping my cheeks held myself open for him. I arched my back and waited. The loose top fell forward exposing my breasts and obscured my vision somewhat. He stepped forward and placed his hands on my hands, covering them and a healthy expanse of ass-flesh as well. He pressed his silk encased hard-on firmly against my naked pussy lips and stroked himself against me. It felt delicious.

Then I got it! This is about love and trust. I am presenting my body for his pleasure, because I want him to have pleasure from my body, because I love him. And he is taking what I am entrusting to him and caring for it. He is returning my pleasure, but more importantly he is fulfilling my trust.

Stepping back, he ordered "Stand up. Don't move."

Unsure of what he was going to do, I waited.

Then I felt something at my neck and almost glanced down.

I felt him fastening a necklace of some kind around my neck.

"Look," he said.

Pearls!

He turned me to him and hugged me. "Kathy," he said, "those are a gift. No matter how this weekend turns out, I want you to know that I am grateful that you gave it a chance."

"Oh thank you, Ken. I love you so much."

Brunch was fruit salad with walnuts, croissants, orange juice and, of course, coffee. We were both ravenous. We chatted about this and that. Our roles momentarily set aside. When the fruit salad was gone Ken retrieved a banana from the basket on the sideboard and peeled it.