Mistress Goes in For Some Maintenance.

Mistress and I have been down here in Central Florida this weekend, seeing some old friends and tending to our house – a nice old Florida classic that will not sell in this crazy real estate market.

In between the yard work, deferred maintenance and cleaning out a garage filled with tenant detritus, we have taken some long bike rides, dined with old neighbors, and Mistress has worked on her tan (the lines are back as you shall see in upcoming photos).

Mistress also went in for some maintenance of her own yesterday afternoon. Our loyal readers may recall that a few weeks back, her Dom gave orders to strip away her forest so he could more readily access her sexy little components. Mistress went above and beyond the call of duty and found a place in the outer suburbs of River City that performs a Brazilian wax. But this service is not readily available in our town. I guess the conservative dames don’t create much of a demand. Or does the cold weather encourage our women folk to keep their fur?

When Mistress asked a salon near her office if she could be accommodated they looked at her like an insane slut. (Were they half right? You be the judge.)

But down here in the Sunshine state, they have a different state of mind. Mistress called her old salon – where the Vietnamese ladies serviced her fingers and feet for several years – and it was no problem to set her up for a waxing.

Mistress asked if I wanted to come watch. I passed, opting to plant some grass seed, while knowing I would have the chance to inspect and plant some other seed later, once she was all spiffed up. I had watched her give birth twice. But this seemed beyond the call of duty. (Of course, if ordered, I would have dutifully complied).

Then again, he thought that Mistress was doing this at the direction of her other man made the thought of her undergoing this form of torture all the more torturous for this Slave.

Mistress walked to her waxing, and I picked her up at the appointed hour. I resisted the impulse to slide my hand under her sundress to take her slick parts for a test drive.

Back in our little guest house, Mistress preceded me up the stairs to the loft where our old conjugal bed is now in repose. When I came up I found Mistress, spread naked across the bed, posing in front of her computer screen, angling to let the “photo booth” camera take in her denuded parts and naked breasts, her brightly painted nails covering her nipples.

“Ahh. Taking some photos for your friend, Mistress?”

She gave me one of those coy smiles.

“Oh, Slave. I am sure you will be on the distribution list too.”

Of course, in my mind I surmised that he had demanded more photos, as evidence that she was maintaining the look and texture that he required. And, horny little slut that she was for him, she was more than happy to oblige.

“You like to titillate him, don’t you Mistress?”

By now I had picked up my own little camera and was taking some shots to share with our readers. She gets to approve of course.

“I do, Slave.”

Mistress continued to pose and snap the laptop camera, searching for angles that would display her parts to good advantage.

“He likes the breasts, Slave. Need to get some good shots of those.”

No doubt.

When Mistress was done with her photo spread (pun intended), She lay back and allowed me to apply some cocoanut butter to her lovely parts and bottom, still a bit red and tender from the waxing she had endured. And I applied myself with devotion until she was squirming from my ministrations.

“Do you imagine him playing with his cock when he gets those photos, Mistress?”

“He has not told me that he does that, Slave.”

“Well you like to think he does, don’t you?”

“I suppose I do….”

By now I was very anxious to feel those clean and well moisturized parts against the tip of my tongue and between my lips. I slid down and brought Mistress to the boiling point with a slow and deliberate assault until she was quaking against me. Satisfied for the moment, she pushed my head away.

“Let me taste your cock now, Slave.”

No problem.

Mistress soon had me begging to fuck her, and she ultimately relented allowing me to mount her, and it seemed I brought her to an additional orgasm that way. But not the kind she wanted.

“I want to get on top, Slave.”

No objection there. I rolled over, and Mistress slid onto me, guiding my cock inside her and beginning that slow, relentless ride to the place she needed to be.

“I’ll bet he liked it when you rode his cock that last time, Mistress.”

“Yes, Slave. He kind of went crazy.”

“And how did you like it Mistress.”

“It was …. Nice Slave. Very nice.”

No doubt.

Mistress was picking up the pace now, churning against me. I figured her mind was half on hois cock, half on mind. But it worked well for the both of us. She was a woman possessed. And suddenly, she hit that wall, pounding against me with a moan from deep in her lungs, before rolling off, spent.

And then it was my turn to finish the job. I like batting clean up.