The first warm week of Spring and I’m outside working on the yard. I love the feel the earth, the smell of green. Still, I follow My Love’s House Rules. Today, He is enforcing Rule Number 2. My body is His and as such, He has the right to see it whenever or wherever he chooses. Because my skin is delicate, fragile, and very, very fair, He allows me to wear a dress. Just a dress. The lack of shoes is actually my idea because I love the connection to the Earth. As I fill containers with potting soil, He lifts the back of my dress and touches me. I moan, am slightly annoyed, and open my mouth to object. Then, I come to myself (quickly, thank the gods!) and remain silent. I continue with my chore. I hear the sound of a zipper. My body reacts immediately. I’m wet, soft, and hot. I place my hands on the edge of the potting table and bend low, spreading my legs wide for Him. He enters me, slowly, easing into my body. I look down at his hands next to mine. They’re large, hard, but gentle now. A trembling begins in my core and soon, the earthquake travels throughout my body. He bites my shoulder, clenches his hands and fills me with himself. He pulls out, sated, and helps me to sit since my legs refuse to hold me up. Then, he lifts my skirt again, exposing me. I blush, hating this (but loving it as well). Soon, He will seep out of me, and here I sit, exposed and open, unable to hide behind my innate modesty. I think of the work I so very much want to do, but then I look up at him and know that here is my first priority. If He wants me exposed, then I will be exposed. If He wants to see what He has left behind slowly drip from me, He will see it. If it pleases Him that I stay here, then here I will stay. A flush of pride rises in me, replacing my embarrassment. He sees this change (of course he does!), lifts my chin with one finger, then kisses me.