TnA/Have a meal waiting for him
From Create Your Own Story
Just before your master walked through the door, you had just finished setting the table with his meal already on his plate and a nice hearty stout for him to drink.
The door unlocks and before you see him you hear his voice, “Mmm, something smells good. What does my little pet have waiting for me?”
As he walks around corner and into the dining room, you finally see him and smile, only wanting to please him in anyway possible, “Just something to satisfy one of your cravings.” you reply.
Hunter walks up to you and grabs you by your collar pulling you close to him for a long awaited kiss. As your tongues danced in each others mouths, you heard that old familiar 'click' of your leash. Something to signify that you belong to him, something you thoroughly enjoy. “Now, while I eat my meal, I have something for you to snack on as well.” He unzipped his pants and pulled out his big hard cock. You move your eyes down to look at it. So beautiful you think to yourself. Your master tugs on your leash to get your attention. “You will suck me until I have either said stop or I cum in your mouth. Do you understand?”
You nod, “Yes.” Suddenly Hunter slaps your ass hard enough to leave a stinging red hand print. You yelp from the surprise spank.
“Yes what?” He asks you.
“Yes, Sir.”
“Good.” He says, just before kissing you again.
Your master sits down in his chair, leading you under the table kneeling before him, his cock still fully erect. He grabs you by the hair firmly, but still gently, and guides your mouth to the head of his penis. You open your lips welcoming him into your mouth. You always loved blowing him. His hard cock in your mouth, feeling him with your tongue, knowing how much he enjoys it.
During 'both' your meals, Hunter would at times run his fingers through your hair, telling you how much of a good girl you are, that you're a good pet. Eventually he finishes his meal and beer. “That was really good.” He says while stroking your hair, looking into your eyes.
