whips and chains excite me
Nov. 13th, 2016 03:55 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
wingsofgoodbyeOn the whole, Sheryl really does like dating Slaine. Oh sure, the media can be a big pain in the ass sometimes, with one of the world's most popular singers dating an up-and-coming young actor. (She's already sick of the word "Sherlaine.") But he's sweet. He treats her well. And frankly, the sex is great. She loves that part.
She's always been more adventurous and freewheeling, though. So it had taken a little coaxing to get him to agree to this, but Sheryl's confident they'll both have fun getting out of their usual boxes.
She's prepared well. Her staff has been dismissed for the night, which means it's just the two of them in her large home in the hills up above Los Angeles. With high hedges and walls, there's no paparazzi in sight. She's cleaned out a room in the basement, too, leaving it bare save for a comfortable mattress tucked into the corner and a stool in the middle. (With a comfortable cushion on it. She's not some sort of savage.)
She's currently sitting on that stool in a sheer lacy white robe, tied right below and between her breasts, that really doesn't do much to cover them. The only other things she's wearing are an equally lacy pair of white stockings held up by a garter belt, and a very skimpy white thong. It's a far cry from the full dress uniform she'd procured for her boyfriend. (God, he looks good in uniform, she thinks.)
Unfortunately, he's also trying to tie her up, and he could be doing a little better at that. "Slaine," she says, rolling her eyes. "It needs to be tighter! I can still move my arms, you know."
She's always been more adventurous and freewheeling, though. So it had taken a little coaxing to get him to agree to this, but Sheryl's confident they'll both have fun getting out of their usual boxes.
She's prepared well. Her staff has been dismissed for the night, which means it's just the two of them in her large home in the hills up above Los Angeles. With high hedges and walls, there's no paparazzi in sight. She's cleaned out a room in the basement, too, leaving it bare save for a comfortable mattress tucked into the corner and a stool in the middle. (With a comfortable cushion on it. She's not some sort of savage.)
She's currently sitting on that stool in a sheer lacy white robe, tied right below and between her breasts, that really doesn't do much to cover them. The only other things she's wearing are an equally lacy pair of white stockings held up by a garter belt, and a very skimpy white thong. It's a far cry from the full dress uniform she'd procured for her boyfriend. (God, he looks good in uniform, she thinks.)
Unfortunately, he's also trying to tie her up, and he could be doing a little better at that. "Slaine," she says, rolling her eyes. "It needs to be tighter! I can still move my arms, you know."
