Joy

He started in on me before I was even fully awake. He was hard and alert, even as I was groggy and cuddly, and he started putting me through my paces. I dragged through the first part of our early-morning activities. Maybe I didn't suck his cock as enthusiastically as he would have liked? Or maybe I was too busy wiping the sleep from my eyes to come on command?

He flung me over the side of the bed and fucked me hard from behind, taunting my reflection in the mirror. I buried my head in the sheets and tried to find my focus. I didn't want him to make me cry, not when I was already feeling so out of sorts. But the tears came quickly when he told me that all of my neighbors would know what a slut I am from the moaning that was coming from the apartment. I was ashamed and I didn't know what to do.

After a time, I slid to the floor to kneel at his feet. I looked up at him, looking for something, looking for a connection. He smoothed back my hair and smiled down at me. "You're such a good girl for me this morning, such a good little girl," he cooed.

I nuzzled his knee and smiled. He was proud of me. I felt instantly joyous and purposeful and centered. I was doing a good job. I was pleasing him.

When I sucked his cock again, I was more than enthusiastic and was rewarded for all of my hard work.