I hate washing the dishes. Really, I don't mind doing any other housework, although obviously I'd prefer someone else to do it for me, but washing up I hate. I had decided it was about time I invested in a dishwasher so imagine my delight, and surprise, when I arrived home from work to find my man standing at the sink, pink washing up gloves and all, working his way through the pile of dishes that I had let build up for about four days.

He looked unbelievably sexy. His beautiful, tight little backside was covered in the faded denim of the old jeans he kept for lounging around the house. The muscles in his shoulders moved under his T-shirt as he rinsed the plates down one at a time and placed them in the draining rack. You know I really think that if men realised just how sexy the sight of them doing the dishes is for a lot of women there would never be a dirty dish in the land.

He hadn't heard me come in and so I stood and watched him for a moment, feeling the heat begin to build between my legs as I did so. As quietly as I could I set my bag in the table and, slipping off my shoes so he didn't hear my approach, I walked up until I was right behind him. I slipped my hands around his waist and pressed my thigh up against his delicious backside, pressing his crotch against the sink.

He really hadn't heard me and almost dropped the plate he was holding in surprise. When I dropped my hand down and slid it over his crotch he did drop it with a large splash that soaked the front of his t-shirt. He tried to turn around to face me, but that was not what I had in mind. I pulled my hand away and pressed harder with my thigh so that the now growing bulge in his pants was pressed up hard against the cold side of the sink.

"Keep. Still." I whispered in his ear. I used my most menacing voice for the command and I felt him tremble slightly. His breath was shaky now and he adjusted his feet on the floor, spreading them slightly. I waited. I knew the response would come eventually.

"Yes, Mistress." His voice trembled, barely above a whisper. Still caught in the vice between my thigh and the sink and constrained by his snug jeans, the pressure in his pants must have been uncomfortable by now. I kept him there for a few seconds more before releasing him just enough for me to slide my hand down over him again. My other arm I kept firmly around his slim waste so he couldn't try and turn around again. The groan that issued from somewhere deep inside his chest was replaced by a whimper when I slide down the zip and slipped my hand inside.

I held him for a few seconds before unfastening the button as well and freeing his already hard cock. I stroked my hand gently up an down his length, teasing him with my fingernails and listening to his breath quicken. I slid my hand back inside his jeans and gave his balls a quick, hard squeeze, forcing another gasp from his throat.

He braced himself against the sink with his arms and dropped his head. I looked round him to look at his face which was contorted as he fought against the pressure in his throbbing cock. I knew he wouldn't cum without my permission; I had trained him well enough for that so I continued to stroke up and down his now rock hard cock with my hand, feeling the throbbing against my fingers. I shifted my position slightly and bent my leg so that my thigh pressed in between his legs from behind, pressing up hard against his balls. He parted his legs even further to let me.

"Mistress..." The word was a whimper of desperation, still waiting for the word of permission.

"Please..."

"Wait." Just a few more seconds, until the pressure had built up and he was trembling on the edge. His entire frame was focused on the sensations I was generating in his cock, his face screwed up in concentration. Only then did I lean forward and put my mouth right up against his ear. I let him feel my breath a couple of times before saying the word his whole being was waiting for...

"Now."

His body jerked, his cute little butt kicking back against my leg as he came with a shudder. His arms trembled as he kept himself braced against the sink and his head came back until it was resting back on my shoulder. The sharp squeeze I had given his balls just at the right moment meant that not only did he cum hard, but all over my dishes.

I waited until the spasms in his body has subsided before pulling his head back by his hair and kissing him hard on the lips. When I released him I tutted loudly in his ear.

"Dirty man. Typical. You had better do those again."

I walked away, leaving him still half hanging half jutting out of his jeans and shaking with the exertion. Stopping at the door I added

"Make sure you run some clean water please and when you're done you can bring me a drink."

Ten minutes later I was joined by my very bashful looking man holding a glass of red wine in his hand. I took it from him as he settled himself at my feet. His jeans now fastened he rested his head on my thigh and sighed. I stroked his hair gently.

"I'll buy you some new gloves tomorrow. Some more pink ones I think, they make you look very hot!"

He gave a low laugh.

Well, it's cheaper than a dishwasher isn't it and it looks much nicer in my kitchen.