Slave's Rude Interruption

“I have some dried come on my thigh, Slave.”

We were riding past verdant vineyards and cornfields, heading for a rendezvous with the type of high cholesterol breakfast only justified by a brisk early morning bike ride.

“I’m not surprised, Mistress.”

I remembered seeing that glistening smear there, midway down her right thigh,  after our equally brisk wake-up sex.

I guess a good slave would have cleaned up the mess he’d left behind.

AS we pumped through the humid morning air, a nice breeze from the lake at our backs, we had time to review the amusing events of the night before.

“It was a little embarrassing, Slave.”

“Well, I am sorry that I …interrupted.  But it’s not like I didn’t know what was likely going on inside….”

“It’s just a little strange to be , you know….”

“Caught in the act, Mistress?”

“I suppose…..”

I reviewed for her what led me to open the door of our little rustic apartment before being called to her side.

After our afternoon at the beach, we had a nice little picnic dinner outside on the lawn of this old Victorian guest house where we were spending the football weekend.

Mistress had her “date” with M arranged for around 7 pm. She had generously offered to fuck me first, but I demurred.”

“First, Mistress, you always seem to want my cock after one of those phone sessions with your Dom. Second, maybe it’s a little false bravado, but I don’t care to be the opening act….I like being the headliner….the Closer….”

Mistress laughed, and we riffed off this concept a bit as we finished our smoked salmon, cheese, salami, fresh tomatoes, etc.   And some French rose too. Yum.

By the time we finished we were both full, but also a little feisty. And Mistress was watching the clock. The time for her “date’ was approaching and her slutty anticipation was building…

I decided to take advantage, and stretch our legs a bit too.

“How about a short walk on the beach, Mistress?”

“Hmmm….good idea, but do we have time?”

I told you she was anxious. But there was time, and to be safe, she texted M to make sure 7:15 would work.

Down on the beach, the sun was low, casting magnificent, golden light onto the dunes and the last stragglers enjoying the cool water with the summer’s last hurrah.

But I found a short deserted length of the strand to hold Mistress tight, attack her mouth with mine, and slide my fingers up and under her tie-dye dress.

“MMMMm….”

I would brook no protest, and as my tongue gagged her, my fingers did their dirty work, until Mistress was shuddering in my arms with those needy little gasps of pleasure. I wanted to leave her all wet and sticky before her encounter with M and the Hitachi.

As she settled down into my arms, I could tell Mistress’s mind was already focused on getting back….not being late for him. So we turned around and walked back through a tree lined break in the bluffs to our little apartment.

“Make sure the Hitachi is out, Slave….”

Check.

“Can I use your phone….my charge is too low.”

“No problem, Mistress.”

I handed it to her, with one  more embrace.

“Where will you be?”

I may have a drink with those folks outside on the lawn. Or out here on the deck with my lap-top.”

“Ok…”

Distractedly, she kissed me adieu. She was well primed for him, and I was gratified that I had helped with the priming.

Our “neighbors” were more than entertaining. Three African American couples from the Windy City, an hour drive across the lake. They come here every Labor Day weekend. Among them, two women still serving as Chicago cops. A guy who is a retired Cop. A registered nurse. We talked gangs, pensions, hard times,  the Mayors Daley. And we sipped some fine single malt scotch. They took me in, offered to share their  BBQ, and didn’t even ask where my fetching bride might ever be.

Time flew, and as they began packing away their things, I realized I had not heard from Mistress in about 70 minutes or so.

I said good night, they told me to look them up the next time I was in their town, and I went back to our little deck, where I had left my laptop to begin the next morning’s blog as Mistress finished off her little smutty chat with M.

And I would have been more than content to stay out there, enjoying the warm late summer evening but for two things:

First, it began to sprinkle. Little dots of water began popping up on my screen. Oops. I tried to wiggle under to eaves to keep the laptop dry as I let my consciousness stream across the page. (I found that my scotch induced prose needed some serious editing in the am. I guess I’m no Scott Fitzgerald.)  But that was a losing battle as the rain began to intensify.

Then some other neighbors – more Chicagoans, but of the white redneck category – began getting under my skin. I hate to hear a grown man curse and threaten a 10 year old. And after a few abusive snarls, and what sounded like some gratuitous spanks that had the poor boy wailing, I knew I was either going to give this “dad” an unsolicited lesson in parenting I would probably regret, or I would have to risk interrupting Mistress.

I opted for the latter.

Our “suite” had two small rooms and a bath. No door to close between them. So as I gently turned the key,  and tried to discretely slide inside the door to cower in the “living room” until Mistress was done, I could not help but get a glimpse of Mistress splayed across our bed.

Her lovely tie-dye dress was hiked up around her hips, her legs were scissoring langorously, her head was thrown back, and both hands were gripping the Hitachi pressing it hard against that needy little clit.

Oops. Very bad timing.

I had hoped I would only be barging in on one of their interludes.

Not surprisingly, the commotion at the door caught Mistress’s eye.

“Oh dear, M…we have a problem here….Slave is back…”

I fled to the couch in the other room.

“Don’t mind me Mistress….it’s raining out….just go on”.

The phone was still in her hand.

Mistress was trying to appease us both.

“Are you Ok, Slave… sorry you had to see that…”

“No problem, Mistress…you should feel free to contnue.”

And then to M:

“”I’m sorry M….it was raining out. He’s OK….no problems here.”

Of course, M is wired differently than this Slave. He was thinking how he might react to discovering B under similar compromising circumstances.

“Let’s just go back to where we were….”

Mistress waved to me, went back in the bedroom.

I could hear the Hitachi switch back on. Mistress’s sexy cooing to M…”

“Go on  …. Yes….Yes….. What are you doing…..”

And I could sense her tempo increasing, until there was that tempered moan of pleasure from her, the sounds of her legs thrashing about on the bed….she was coming again for him.

SO while I had disrupted things, at least she had been able to finish the job.

And afterwards, Mistress was still crazy for her “work-a-day” cock, riding it with abandon, forcing even more orgasms from her self.

We both slept hard and long.

Now, on our bike ride, Mistress shared a little more of their evening before I so rudel interrupted.”

“Sorry I took so long, Slave.”

“It wasn’t a problem for me….I just felt bad coming in before you were completely satisfied.”

“Well he was teasing me…..it took forever for him to let me use the Hitachi….he was terrible. Beastly.”

“But you loved it….”

“I suppose I did.”

“And did he finally let you use it, after lots of begging and groveling for him?”

“Finally….”

“And I bet I could have heard you outside the door, when you finally had that first orgasm with him?”

“I suspect you could have Slave.”

And speaking of uncomfortable: a hard cock when you are in the 10^th mile of a bike ride.

Argh.