Cuckold Sleepover

Slave prepared dinner last night for Mistress and her lover Jay. While they chit chatted over glasses of wine in our living room, I was down "slaving away" in the kitchen, preparing some broiled arctic char and a simple skillet of fried potatoes and brussel sprouts. It's a simple but colorful meal.

Of course, there are certain protocols when Jay comes calling. He's not one of those macho cuckolders who relishes in the humiliation of the "pathetic cuckolded hubby". In fact, after all these years he still seems a little uncomfortable about the whole deal. He treats me like one of his buddies, with talk of football and politics, not what he has in mind for my all too willing to please wife.

But when he does come over, Mistress makes sure he gets primacy -- including sitting next to him on the couch as we share dinner and discuss the events of the day.  And I refrain from any PDA's in Jay's presence. He's the one who gets to gently stroke Mistress's shoulder or leg, or shares a stolen kiss with her.

Now typically, that is something I handle well. But last night..... Mistress, whether intentionally or not, was teasing her slave. She elected to keep on the dark, black tights she had worn to a work meeting earlier in the day. Of course, she understands her slave's tights' fetish. But last night, all I could do was admire rather than stroke her legs, let alone grovel betwixt them as I so desperately wanted to do. AS you can see from the photo, her tight enshrouded legs were on full display to her slave last night as we ate dinner....me sitting across from the two lovebirds as they sat side by side on our couch.

ARGH!

In any event, after dinner we strolled up to a local ice cream parlor for a little desert. It was a brisk walk which cleared our heads and set the table for the rest of the night.  When we walked back into the house after our little jaunt, it was about 9 pm.

"Time for bed, Jay?"

"Fine by me....."

I had already moved any items I might need to the guest bedroom, so did not have to join them in our bedroom before "lights out".  But Mistress made a little ceremony out of retiring for the night.

"I'm closing this door now slave....", giving me a little mischievous grin as the door closed her behind her for the night.

This time I did not make the mistake of turning on the TV downstairs.  Instead I hunkered down with a good book in the adjoining bed room. It was not too long before the sounds of Mistress's rhythmic moans of sexual delight were resonating through that closed door. And the sound of skin slapping against skin?  Was that Jay's rapid thrusting into Mistress's clean shaven folds.

It was definitely fuel for the imagination.

But don't worry. Slave honored the "no touch" rule.

Now it's morning. Jay spent a few minutes down here in the kitchen with me. I brewed his morning coffee. We chatted about his Buckeyes and the vagaries of the health insurance market under the new authoritarian regime.  Now he's off.

The question this morning is whether Mistress's folds have been a little too over-extended to allow Slave to enjoy sloppy seconds. If so, it could be a long day!