Dirty banter

Sadly Miss has not been well, and neither has my old friend Kentish Miss so all my social engagements have dried up today and I am home alone.

Which means I've been thinking about Miss and sending some flirty, dirty banter. Not quiet bratting, but on the cusp. 

Yesterday I suggested I should spank her for not replying to one of my messages. This is very outrageous as I have never done that, but it's good to tweak the tail of my Miss even if I wouldn't spank it. Though having suggested I'd hit her on the bottom with the women's weekly, a la Victoria Wood, I went as far as googling it to see if they still print it. 

Which they do... So your bottom isn't out of the woods yet Miss. 

Mind you if I ever did I'm sure I would spend a lot of time kissing it better, however lightly it had been offended. And that the rolled up magazine would be used more stringently on a more efficacious area of my body for my temerity. 

Then Miss advised me she was seeing a hygienist as part of her dental regime, so I suggested a hygienist was needed as she was so dirty. 

And I meant it in the nicest way for the dirty things she does to me. But then I have always had a thing for being cleaned. So I offered myself for a good cleaning next Friday. And so I imagine myself in the bath, Miss leaning over me and gripping me by my balls in one hand and with the other applying soap and the long handled brush to the knoblet, my pelvic area and the balls too. Scrubbed til pink and I am squealing like usual. 

And then this whole banter thing led me to think of Miss lying behind me, arms around her little spoon and sending me into raptures with aggressive handling of my chest. But then gently nibbling ony ear, her teeth and tongue working on the lobe, and offering her own banter on how i am her nawty, dirty boy and her plaything and toy and always will be. And then just "All mine" and "Forever" over and over again  as her fingers tweak and twirl and I pant and squirm and throb.

Helpless and held.