MIstress Gets Tag Teamed

At exactly 4:20 pm yesterday my text message chime woke me from my focus on a dull text I was revising. It was Mistress:

“Look forward to fucking. Western guy has gotten me hot.”

Hmmm. There would be an interesting story behind this one.

When we climbed into the car for the ride back home, I politely asked about the business lunch she had attended, but was way more interested in hearing about what had gotten her motor running in the midst of her work day.

“So what happened today with ‘Western guy’ Mistress?”

“Oh he started texting….and it got pretty raunchy, Slave.”

“Would you like to share?”

She pulled out the I-phone from her elegant little black leather backpack. (a very Domme-ish accessory, come to think of it. Think of the tools it could hide.) Then she scrolled through a long stream to find where things began.

As she read I could only focus on the highlights, as I navigated through traffic in a pop-up thunderstorm, while squirming a bit in my seat as my pants seemed suddenly much tighter.

The text exchanges she read to me featured his repeated references to her as his “little slave”, a description of some sordid plans he had in store for her, and his requirement that she  respond with a “Yes, Sir”, when replying to his insistence that she not cross her legs or otherwise seek to relieve the building sexual tension.  And there were some comments about the story he had in mind when they had their next  phone sex session this weekend.

Mistress wanted to confirm that their dialogue was also turning him on. She is considerate that way, as I well know. And sure enough, Western M, let her know that the turn on was mutual.

“So all of this made you pretty horny, Mistress?”

“Yes Slave. Is that bad?”

(Our readers should know that Mistress is and always has been very considerate about this. While our contract clearly allows her to “play the field”, a right I do not have, she seems almost too concerned about my feelings. She knows from empirical evidence that I enjoy her adventures (almost) as much as she does. Yet she is always taking my temperature to make sure I don’t get squeamish about it. Nice, don’t you think?)

“No, Mistress. Not bad at all. Very hot stuff.”

And, in fact, tossed into the text exchange were some little comments about how he had gotten her in the mood to fuck me ASAP.  Western M egged her on. He has my back, so to speak.

On the highway by now, I reached my hand over to where Mistress thighs met her skirt, that had hiked up in a high and revealing way. My fingers settled on their junction, against her silky black “work” panties. Damp it seemed. Was it the rain she had walked through on her way to meet me, or the work of Western M. As I toyed with her a bit, I enjoyed her little squirms. She was a horny little slut this afternoon.

When we got home the thunderstorm had cleared.

“Bike ride, Mistress?”

“”Uhhhh….for some reason I am not feeling the need today.”

“Sex?”

“Yes, Slave. That’s the need I am feeling.”

Now this was unusual. Mistress rarely passes up the exercise opportunity. She really was turned on and in need of a hard cock. I was just lucky to be the one available.

We went to our room. Mistress was out of her cloths in a flash. And so was I.

She lazed across my body, at a right angle, her head on my chest, my hand buried in her clean shaven cunt. And I began to rub …. and rub, occasionally sucking her left nipple into my mouth, holding it between my teeth. Mistress was very needy but she was going to build to something special. No quick and easy orgasms today.

Our conversation focused on Western M, his wife B and their plans for Mistress.

Her sitting on Mistress’s face, as M toyed with her cunt.

Both of them taking turns spanking her, their hands dipping between the cheeks of her ass to confirm how wet and desperate to come she was.

Mistress collared, hands tied, on her knees, serving them both with her mouth.

Or maybe locked in some basement dungeon by them, on call to serve their kinky needs.

“Imagine what it will be like to meet M on some trip out west someday, Mistress. He will have you so well programmed with his voice, that you might just fall to your knees the minute he opens his mouth.”

“Hmmmm….maybe so, Slave.”

I kept rubbing. Mistress was so very close, whimpering a bit. But holding back. AS if she was struggling to delay orgasm until someone not in the room at the time gave her permission.  Oh so hot she was.

“Would you like the Hitachi, Mistress?” (By now my hand was getting a little tired but I knew she needed more from me, not less).

She was conflicted, confused, in a lust filled haze of desire.

“Uhhhh…..no……well …maybe ….yes….do you mind, Slave?”

“Of course not, Mistress”.

I popped up from the bed. Observed Mistress lying there, legs spread, knees bent, damp all over, her hips slowly undulating. Needy. Oh so needy. I had to put her out of her “misery”. The power tool was her only hope.

I found it in its little hiding place, plugged it in and slid in bed next to her.

“Relax, Mistress this will only take a minute.”

She moaned at my bad joke, but seemed very happy when the machine kicked on with its dull roar and I pressed it against her clit.

It did only take about a minute from there. Mistress had lost the battle of resistance and within seconds her hands were over mine, pressing the soft white bulb hard against her self, directing the action. Her leg muscles were very well defined as she used them to force the device home even harder. And then exploded against it, throwing her head back in surrender to her needs.

In this case, I felt that I was giving Western M the assist, since he had gotten this ball rolling hours earlier with his smutty little text messages.

She caught her breath, still writhing a bit with the aftershocks, and said “Give me the cock now slave.”

I was happy to oblige.

“It’s good to know my cock has not been made obsolete by all this technology, Mistress.”

“No Slave. That’s what went wrong with my little lesbian adventure a few months back. The orgasms are nice, but I need a nice hard cock to finish the job.”

AS I slid into her , Mistress took over the verbal provocations.

“Maybe when we have that phone sex tomorrow, I will tie you to that chair over there.”

“Hmmm….that would be …interesting Mistress.”

“How would it feel to listen to him talk me to an orgasm, Slave. Yo hear me call him Sir and respond to his voice….”

“That could be hard, Mistress.”

“would it make you jealous, Slave.”

“Well, I guess…but not in a bad way.”

“Good…it’s good for you to see that other men want me.”

And that you want them, Mistress.”

The talk was getting us crazy all over again. I was pumping. Mistress was coming, again. And soon I was begging for permission. I just barely made it under the wire, and came with a series of shudders, spent, collapsing onto her.

After we came down, and were getting ready to take a sullen teen to dinner (her friends are drivig her crazy, she claims), I picked up the laptop and sent an email to Western M, thanking him for all his priming of the pump.

We had worked Mistress like a winning relay team, and I was the lucky one holding the baton on the last leg, for the celebration at the finish line.

Or maybe one of those WWF tag teams? Need to work on that metaphor.

Morning Sex

Last night Mistress was very very tired.  This new all day work gig is taking some getting used to.

After we zrrived home, and before Slave whipped up dinner (gnocchi, scallops, pesto and asparagus, if you are keeping track), I offered to worship, and Mistress was happy to accept. She stretched across the bed after shedding her black pants (a rare pants to work day for her), and I knelt.

Molly had on some lacy yellow undies of the thong variety. I pressed my mouth against them, inhaling the aromas of a MIstress who needed to relax. Soon I was pealing them away and applying my skills to help Mistress shed some of that work-a-day tension. And hopefully I succeeded. afterwards we lay there a bit as MIstress caught up with her facebook friends.

But by the time we settled into bed Mistress had to enforce some abstinence.

"Just too tired Slave. I am afraid you will have to wait until the morning. Make sure you wake me by 6:45...."

"No problem Mistress....You deserve a break from my penis every now and then."

In fact, Slave was a bit worn too.

But this morning, that was a different story.
I slept a little too late for early morning blogging. But made sure I was upstairs at the appointed time.

Mistress had those yellow undies on again, and I stripped them away and made sure she had a wake-up orgasm before turning to my own needs.

Mistress reached for me.

"Ummmm....the morning cock. Ready to go."

She gripped it and began to pump, her face pressed up against my shoulder.

And gripped it. And slid those nicely manicured nails up and down the length for a while.

She made me beg.

"WHy do you want to fuck me, Slave?"

Hard to compose a power point presentation on the subject under those circumstances.

My hand wormed its way between her thighs. Roving fingers seemed to produce another orgasm for her. She was leveraging this encounter well.

That might have been the tipping point that led her to finally give me permission.

Afterwards she showered and I began writing this abreviated entry. Hate to let our readers down.

But when she came back into the room, all fresh and damp, She picked up her cell and snapped a photo.

"Make sure this is on today's entry, Slave".

"Yes, Mistress."

Yuck.  Next time I will remember to suck in my late 50's gut.

HNT / After Hours in Slave's Office

We knew it would be a long one when the day started. Mistress’s new job has kept her running from meeting to meeting. And Wednesday morning started early, so there was no time for our regular a.m. sex-capade.

Our plans included dinner with some friends, then a late night at a local Jazz Joint to hear River City’s premier Diva pay interpret some of those American Standards.

So we planned a 6 pm meet-up at my office for some worship as the workday ended and before out evening began. I figured I might not get any (it was my Abstinence Day after all), but was prepared to “offer at up” just like the nuns had taught me all those years and rosaries ago.

But our semi-chaste plans were derailed, in part by provocation from our Western Correspondent, and Mistress’s uncontrolled (or is it uncontrollable) need to pander to his prurient interests.

Mid morning, Mistress forwarded me an email from Western M, which read in part:

“Loved the post this morning but it got me feeling very dominant. In fact I have been feeling that way since Sunday [the day they had that naughty phone sex]. Wonder why? B is going to get royally fucked this morning after I take the kids to school. She is also going to get a long hard bare bottom spanking ,.... which she richly deserves.”

Hmmm. It’s M who usually gets the spanking. B must have been a very bad girl. But he went on:

“I mentioned phone sex when you guys are driving home some night. That sounds like fun and we should do it sometime, but not the first time we perform with an ‘audience’ so to speak. My reasons are these: Everybody is too stressed after work, especially you Molly (and you are the one who has to perform)....You will be nervous masturbating in the car in public...I need to learn your triggers better... I need to train you better to my voice....and there would be no Hitachi. Don't want a failed attempt.

If you guys want to do this the first time should be with you two in bed ..... More comfortable surroundings...the hitachi...and an ‘assistant’ in case I need a nipple or clit pinched to get your attention Molly.

And as long as I am giving orders, Molly I expect you to make yourself available sometime this weekend for my pleasure. It’s good to have a twitchy clit during a hard day at work. You should be sitting on a red hot bottom too. B is going to be, and it’s good for her.

Hope this finds you hot and bothered, M”

Mistress’s response, which she also forwarded to me, confirmed that the email did make her “hot and bothered”, and of course that pushed my buttons too. Though I don’t think M needs any help in getting Mistress off once the Hitachi is turned on and he takes charge.

When I talked to Molly a few minutes later, I suggested that we might want to consider something more than worship. I was hoping to collect my “sex in the office” rain check from last week. Molly was game, and apparently shared our plans with M (what a tease), who sent me an email with some encouraging words. An odd triangle was developing, with Molly at the apex, and one of the participants about 1000 miles away. Yes, dear readers, it is weird.

When Mistress strode into my office at around 6 pm, all sexy and commanding in her business wear of black dress, pearls and pumps, she had her I-phone out.

“I was talking to M on the way over. He wants us to send him some pictures.”

And sure enough, when I came back from retrieving an ice tea for us, Mistress was snapping a photo – pearls resting on silky black undies set off against the royal blue of an upholstered chair. She sent it off to M via text.

The door was closed, and a chair pressed against it. Minimal security, but hopefully enough to keep the cleaning staff at bay. Mistress asked me to unzip her dress, and I complied, kissing the back of her neck, then running my hands over her breasts with some gentle squeezes thrown in.

She unbuttoned my pants, freed my belt, and let my pants fall to my ankles. My cock was already growing in stature. Then she picked up her camera again, snapped a shot of me from the waist down, in my state of semi-undress, and sent that one off to M. Yikes.

I spread a blanket on the floor, and Mistress lay there, now completely naked.

“This is the money shot, Mistress. And it’s HNT tomorrow.”

“Ok, Slave, but I get to approve.”

“Of course, Mistress.”

Mistress posed provocatively for me. I snapped. It met her high standards. Mistress is a control freak about her image, as you might expect. Then she worked the controls to make sure M got a sneak peak at what you are seeing above here today. Hope you enjoy.

Then we did what Mick and Molly do. Me nibbling on her naked cunt until she bucked against my mouth, stifling her moans to keep the cleaning crew at bay. Then me taking her on the carpet, once permission was granted, begging for the chance to come when the time was right. It was a very satisfying way to break the sexual tension that M had stoked through the day.

When we came up from air, Mistress checked her I-phone and there were a few texts from M in response to those photos, including:

“Hey….are you lunatics trying to kill me….I’m riding my bike home here.”

I hope M had his helmet on.

Mistress Likes to Tease

An intriguing dynamic in the Collins household these days is Mistress’s fascination with and incendiary turn on by the idea of her own submission, even as she wants to maintain a tight grip on her husband as Slave. My past misdeeds do not qualify me for the role of Master. She believes I need to be kept on a short leash.

And although I do believe I can be trusted, I must admit I get that little cock twitch whenever she asserts her rights as Mistress. Examples: being told to insert my little white probe as she did before we had sex last night; or when she gently pumps my cock and makes me beg for the privilege of fucking her. She likes to tease, and she makes me her little groveling puppy whenever she does it.

But Mistress clearly gets off on the idea of obeying the sexual demands of a strong male asserting his rights to her sexy little body. And darned if that does not get me off too.

This morning our blog-stress colleague SFP talked about failing to follow Mr. C’s orders to go to the bedroom, strip and stretch out on the bed. Was she looking for a firmer hand? Or was it an inadvertent miscue?

In any event, that’s not an order Molly would have much trouble following. Last week during her visit to Sir M he told her to go upstairs and strip for him while he attended to some tasks down there. She was happy to talk to me about it, knowing it would only make me want her more:

“And did you follow that order, Mistress?”

“Of course, Slave …. “

I imagined her sliding out of her black dress, panties and bra, folding them neatly over a chair and then reclining in the bed. He probably had left the handcuffs and blindfold out for her to see and anticipate. I imagined her heart racing a bit, anticipating. And her cunt beginning to flood.

“What was it like waiting for him, Mistress? Were you turned on?

“Yes, Slave, of course….”

And I can imagine her there, on his bed, posed in just the right way to entice him, make his cock twitch, the moment he enters the room. It’s the type of tease designed to make him use his hands and cock to take charge and use that sexy body in the ways he sees fit.

I can tell Mistress also has also been teasing Western Correspondent. But it’s a different type of tease than I get.

It’s a tease that demands a firm hand to correct. She’s taunting him to take charge, to make her call him “Sir”, and make her submit to his directives. Over the phone for now. But with the promise of more when they get the chance to meet. And I suspect that M will know just how to handle her when and if he gets the chance.