feet an slaves

There are few things I crave more than to be kept nearby and to be of use while you work.  To take some of the stress away, to make your day a little less dull, a little more pleasant.  And what could do that more than the sound of my feet lightly padding across the floor, fetching your tea, whispering a word or two so as to not distract.  Maybe a light brush of your arm before I slip back under your desk till you need me.  

This is not a sexual activity.  It’s not about orgasms or wetness, it’s not about keeping me frustrated and needy.  It’s not about me at all.  It’s about serving, it’s about being where you want me, being what you want, it’s about you.  I won’t wonder when you’ll let me cum or when you’ll want to fuck me.  In that moment, I will have and be everything I could possibly need.  Whether I’m sitting in silence, casually forgotten, listening to you type, backspace, sigh, type again in the calm rhythm of a man deep in thought, or on my knees, a quiet, reverent mouth serving your cock as you discuss your latest business deal on the phone.