Kneeling
There’s something very satisfying about being on your knees for Simon. He would say you’re on your knees for you, that unless you’re choking on his cock he doesn’t get anything out of it. But he also bought you the little purple kneeling pillow that lives under the coffee table.
You rest your cheek on his thigh and blink up at him. He’s watching the match, not you, but a gentle hand covers the side of your neck. He pets over your skin so gently that it almost tickles, then firm, like a cat. You kind of wish you could purr.
















