Page 7 of Boo-ty Calls
Our living room is basically horror central. He made me a coffin coffee table one year, and the white couches with black throw blankets make the rest of the room.
This bathroom needs to be repainted. I love the relaxing part of a bath, but the rest sucks. I can never pay attention long enough to read a book like some of my friends do, and I’m left with my thoughts while sitting in my human soup.
“Ready?”
“Thank god, I was fucking spiralling.” I hand him the plate and rise out of the tub to the marble corner, sitting with my legs spread.
“Again?” Archer asks as he takes out the shaving cream and lathers my legs before shaving them for me.
“Yeah, it always happens. One day I might even have a bath that doesn’t make me feel like carrots and potatoes should be added.”
Archer laughs as he washes off the cream, before coating my mound in it and focusing closely on my parts as he shaves me.
He’s been doing this for years, and while it’s intimate as fuck, it helps me not have to twist into a pretzel to try to do it myself. Nothing like having tits and a stomach to not be able to see your parts to tidy them up the way you want.
“Perfect. Mason is going to be lucky tonight.”
He stands back, and I dip back into the bath for a minute before pulling the plug. Draining the water and the energy drink, I rest the can on the counter. “You know you’ll get a taste as well,” I tell him and pat his cheek before heading out into the bedroom.
Lying on the bed after a quick towel off, I air-dry. It’s my favourite thing, and it’s one of the many reasons we don’t want children. I’d never be able to give up my lifestyle for shitty diapers and a snot-nosed little asshole.
“Darling, do you know what you want to wear tonight?”
I toy with the edge of the towel before glancing at him. A dark grey shirt hugs his muscles, tattoos line his arms, and my favourite skull tattoo covers the top of his hand. If only he felt more comfortable giving me hand necklaces.
“What about the black and pink baby doll?” I like to wear softer items sometimes when I know I’ll be dominated.
It’s like a costume change that helps me get into the mindset. When I’m with Archer, I wear a lot of clothes and makeup, which makes me feel badass to keep the energy going.
I fluff out my hair from the humidity in the bathroom and decide against dolling up tonight.
Archer heads into the walk-in closet and returns with my outfit and hands me thigh-high stockings. I roll into a sittingposition and give him an unamused look while holding my leg up.
With a smirk, he takes back the stocking before rolling it on my thigh. His warm touch heats me, and the rattle through me is from more than the energy drink. He continues until they’re both on.
“Good boy,” I say and stroke his face. Grabbing the black thong, I stand and wiggle into it.
Placing the soft pink baby doll over my body and tightening the black strings, I gaze at him before swirling around.
“Goddess, beautiful.”
“You know it, such a lucky man you are.” I wink before heading out of the bedroom to the kitchen to hydrate.
Archer will set the bedroom the way I like, laying out toys and setting the chair from the guest room in the corner of ours.
There's a knock at the door, and I pad to the hall to open it.
“Mason.”
“Sloane. Damn, girl.” He looks at me from head to toe. I melt under his gaze and squeeze my thighs together.
We walk to the kitchen together, and I lean against the island, handing him a bottle of water as he sits on a stool and shrugs out of his leather jacket.
“Regular things or something new tonight?”
I think about it for a minute. “Usual. He’ll be waiting for us. How’s life been?”
His powerful hand grips the bottle as he takes a swig. “Work, gym, sleep, repeat. Same shit, different fucking day. You?”
