Snow Day

When the phone rings here in the heartland at 5:30 am you know its going to be a robo call from the smarmy local school superintendent, letting us know that something is amiss. Yesterday, she let me know in her best insider’s voice that it was a snow day for the sullen teens. They could sleep in. That gave me a little extra time to finish up my faux expose on Mick and Molly’s Super Bowl adventures. Maybe next year, football fans!

I had forgotten to bring the little steel ring downstairs when I crept out of the bedroom, laptop under my arm, trying not to disturb Mistress. So when I came back p to bed to crawl in next to Mistress, her groping fingers discovered something was amiss.

“No ring, Slave?”

I gave my excuses. She snorted in disapproval at my forgetfulness.

“Lame, Slave. Very lame. I like what that ring does to my cock in the morning.”

But I was allowed to worship nonetheless, buried under the covers as she giggled over my work product – though I am not sure she got the part about our side bet on the Who’s play list.

Then Mistress indulged me by letting me take her with my hard, but un-ringed cock. Truth be told, while it makes it ever so harder to come when the tight steel ring grips my swollen balls, the extra effort is rewarded with a very devastating explosion when I cross into no man’s land and obtain Mistress’s permission.

After my shower, I put on my back-up cage, the CB3000 for those of you looking for product placements. Mistress seemed happy as always to close the little padlock, securing her cock away for the day.

Mistress’s business meeting was canceled due to the “white death” falling from the sky, so she worked from home, while her Slave slogged down the snow covered interstate. She did send me a sultry photo of her in bed, taken with her laptop camera, just to remind me of what I was missing.

When I returned home around 5 pm, she allowed me to kneel and worship her. I was happy to slide her tightly fitting exercise pants down those muscular legs, then bury my face between her legs. She lay back to enjoy my attention. And after she came with some soft little moans as I sucked her clit through my teeth, we relaxed on the bed, shuffling through the Times and Journal like a contented married couple.

But there was snow to shovel. Wet heavy snow. I suited and booted up, and took my time. This would be my exercise for the day, and it provided plenty of cardio – effort. When I came back upstairs, Mistress and I both napped a bit before throwing together a late dinner for the teens.

After adjourning to bed, we lazed about some more, watching yet another episode of Damages on our little screen. No sex but compelling characters.

When our show ended, the lights went out. Slave was a bit tired and lazy, but certainly wanted to take his pleasure from Mistress with Abstinence Day on the horizon.

We turned off the lights, and clung to one another, kissing deeply, my thigh pressed between Mistress’s leg, my hand drifting back over her ass to poke into her little brown hole, teasing her a bit in a way that made her hump against me all the harder.

I could sense her breathing tempo accelerate. A good tell that Mistress is getting hotter and hotter. To take her to that first orgasm, I slid my other hand between her legs. With fingers working her from front and back I soon had Mistress sliding over the edge, burying her head in Slave’s chest with little gasps of pleasure.

Mistress worked my cock a bit more, and then gave me permission to climb on board. It turned out to be a long, slow pleasurable session, with Slave getting more and more frustrated as I came so close, only to be held back a bit by diminished energy. I guess it’s what happens when a 59 year old has as much sex as I am allowed. And shovels snow too.

Of course, Mistress was amused. By now she had enjoyed several orgasms, while I was doing all the work.

“Frustrated, Slave?”

Yes, Mistress.”

I stopped for a moment, to take off my T-shirt.

Mistress took a brief break too, climbing from the bed.

“Keep it hard, Slave.”

I used my hand to follow her directive.

When she lay back down next to me, she cupped my balls with her soft, knowing fingers, and told me to keep going.

“Maybe I will have you come this way, Slave.”

I kept working with my hand on a desperate cock. Close.

“Or maybe I will make you watch me masturbate myself. Yes, that’s what I will do…”

Sadly, she moved her hands away from my aching balls, and to herself, laying back, working her hands between her spread legs.

The sight of Mistress pleasuring herself that way has always been a turn on for me….she knows what she’s doing and there are lessons to be learned.

She worked at herself hard, insistently, throwing her head back against the pillow, eyes scrunched tightly closed.

After a few moments, Mistress had one of those shattering explosions that bring sobs from her chest, tears streaming down her face.

I wanted to hold and comfort her. To kiss those tears away.

But I wanted to fuck her even more.

She gave me permission. My energy restored, my imagination inspired, I was soon begging for permission to come.

Now it’s morning, another snow day according to my private robo – caller. I did remember my ring this morning. Mistress will be pleased.