Earlier this week our fellow blogster (or is she a blog-stress?) at “Peacefully Submissive” posted a lovely contemplation on how words muttered in the throws of passion can stoke those fires so compellingly. Her Mr. C tends to take the lead in setting an erotic, fantastic stage to provide a subtext for their proceedings. In our household, I have traditionally provided the narrative.
In days past, Mistress would sometimes ask me to “tell her a story” as I toyed with her cunt, and I would weave a fiction for her, often involving her debauchery at the hands of a dominant female or (more recently) male. And lately our conversations have focused more on my Q’s and her A’s about her own adventures with her Sir M.
But variety is the spice of life, and this week we went off in another direction.
Thursday evening, Mick and Molly were in bed. I had pleasured Mistress with my tongue, devouring her smooth and clean shaven parts until she came with those little bucks against my mouth, and a gentle but enthusiastic moan.
After seeking her permission, I slid on top and into her, inhaling the luscious scent available at her neck and her full breasts. Yum.
We had talked earlier in the week to our Western Correspondent M, and Molly had traded a few provocative emails with him, focusing on why he (or other Dom males) seem so focused on taking a woman in their alternative orifice.
.Part of the conversation had been about whether we could arrange a meet up with him and wife B at our little southwestern hideaway. So as I thrust my hard cock into Mistress, pinning her arms over her head, I speculated:
“So how would that work, Mistress … if M and B came to visit, and he directed you to strip for him, in front of us all…what would you do?”
“Well, I don’t know Slave….I suppose I would have to, wouldn’t I?”
“Why, Mistress?”
“Well, they would be our guests. It would only be common courtesy.”
“Hmmm….How do you think B would respond to that?”
“well, I am assuming that, since she is the boss in their household, he wouldn’t ask me to strip unless she approved.”
That made sense. Their visit could simply be some folks with some common interests, and professions getting together for a weekend of vanilla fun. No doubt M would not demand anything from Molly without B’s approval.
Our conversation continued as my thrusts became a slow grind against Mistress, spreading her legs even wider as my fingers toyed with her left nipple.
“And once you had so courteously stripped for him, Mistress, what if her demanded that you bend over his lap so he could spank you?”
“I suppose I would have to obey, Slave. Once he had me naked, I would probably feel pretty submissive, humiliated. And in that state of mind, my inclination would be to obey, wouldn’t it?”
“And I bet you would be pretty wet by then too, wouldn’t you, Mistress?”
“Yes, Slave, I would.”
And in real life Mistress seemed to be getting close to a very nice little explosion of her own, her breath shortened, gasping as I pulled away a bit and used my fingers to fondle her swollen clit.
“And, if between those spanks, he slid his hands between your legs, what would he find?
“Oh, I’d be very wet, Slave.”
“Would you beg him to come, Mistress?”
“Of course Slave. It would be rude to come in that position without his permission, wouldn’t it?”
It’s so nice to have a courteous Mistress.
