Waiting for Mistress

Was it Willie Loman who said in “Death of a Salesman” that “the masses of men live their lives in quiet desperation?” In any event, by about 9:30 pm last evening I felt I was one with those masses.

Mistress had taunted me a bit during the day, sharing a photo of her precisely shaven cunt, with the caption “Shaved and ready for you Slave.”

I suspect she probably shared it with her Master, M, as well, but likely with a different caption.

The corporate weasels  at Delta had cancelled Mistress’s first flight to DC. The re-booked flight, 3 hours later,  left 30  minutes late. Then, when it arrived by 8:30 pm, the “airline” was too lazy to move parked planes away from gates, so made Mistress and the poor passengers with her sit on the tarmac for another hour as  in bound flights took turns using the gates that Delta chose to make available. 

Finally, while I was mentally drafting a lawsuit for false imprisonment, Mistress emerged from air travel hell, looking amazingly radiant in a black dress, showing  a bit of nicely tanned and muscular thigh.

She smiled, kissed me. The taste of her lips and warmth and gentle undulations of her body pressed against me, made my wait more than worth it.

On the cab to our hotel, Mistress filled me in on her day. Sounds as if our Western Correspondent kept her entertained as she sat in the passenger lounge back in River City.

“Did he try to get you to touch yourself, Mistress?”

“Yes….he wanted me to go to the restroom and get myself off, Slave.”

“And did you?”

“No …. I figured it would be a little risky….”

I imagined that conversation, Mistress squirming a bit in her chair as she resisted his importuning.  I amsure she was sorely tempted. But discretion prevailed. No doubt I would soon benefit from the undischarged sexual energy.

“And he had some suggestions on how I should deal with you, Slave.”

We were pressed against each other in the cab, my hand tracing small circles on her thigh.

“And what were those, Mistress?”

Well, for one, he says I am too easy on you. That I need to be a much firmer Mistress.”

“I have no problem with that Mistress.  Did he have any suggestions?”

“He said I should make you worship me when we get to the hotel, but then tell you have to wait until after dinner….”

Well, dinner plans had been shot because of the plane delay, but the thought of M coaching Mistress on how to be a firmer Dom was certainly intriguing.

When we got to our hotel room, I poured us some wine, and Mistress and Slave shed their day cloths. It felt heavenly to lie with Mistress, our bodies  pressed together.

Soon I was performing my oral worship.  And after Mistress enjoyed my attentions, She did allow me the opportunity to fuck her with the desperation built up over the last 48 hours. And she generously gave her permission when my time came.

I suspect she will be taking her coaching cues from M in the days to come, but it was nice to catch a break last night.

HNT / Missing Mistress

Slave is off in our nation's capitol today. Last night was one of those rare occassions when Molly and Mick did not sleep together. But it did allow us to bring back some behavior that we had used in the last few monhts of our long distance commute to stay close to one another: the video "chat".

Last night, after I had dinner with some family, and after Mistress took the surly teens out to dinner and spoke  with our Western Correspondent, we both logged onto our Apple laptops and were happy to discover that the internet bandwidth was good enough to connect.

It was my Abstinence Day, but that would hardly prevent Mistress from enjoying the benefits of her contractual  right to come whenever, however and with whomever she damn pleased. (Though I suppose it's possible that M might have something to say about that "freedom").

Mistress was naked. She required me to be naked too. And she positioned her computer at the end of the bed to make sure I could see all of her lovely, furless parts as we chatted. She is quite flexible and can spread those legs very wide.

She showed me the Hitachi, which, of course, I had not hidden from her. It was primed and ready to go, and I could hear a low hum as she switched it on.

"Where does he tell you to put it, Mistress?"

"Right here, Slave."

She found her spot, the tool in her right hand, and I could see her work it gently too and fro.

"Do you mind if I touch myself, Mistress?"

"I want you to slave. And I want a good view."

I was sleepy, but the visual stimulation and her command soon had my cock nice and firm for her.

"I need a better view, Slave."

I pushed the laptop a bit farther down to give her a more panoramic view point.

"Nice."

In the meantime, Mistress seemed to be working the tool against her with more gusto, her hips writhing and rising to meet it. her head back a little. her words to be a tad less coherent.

"How do you ask him for permission, Mistress?"

"I say, 'please may I come....'

"Why don't you pretend I am him, Mistress...."

"I am right there, Slave....ohh....please, please can I come?"

"Yes, Mistress, you may,"

It was nice to be Master of the moment. And it was compelling to watch Mistress go over the top, letting the tool do the work, her head thrown back, her thighs closing to grip it, her body rolling from one side to the next. as she dragged it out for it's full orgasmic effect. And it was nice  to be allowed to and to hold my cock while it all was coming to pass.

Nice, yes. But not nearly as nice as being able to fuck her afterwards. Ah well.  All in a day of slavish devotion. When she was done, I knew I was done with that touching stuff too.

"No more, Slave. I want you very horny for me when I arrive tomorrow afternoon."

I tucked my cock away. 

"That won't be a problem, Mistress."


When Mistress  arrives here this evening, I will be ready to pounce.

Mistress gets some coaching.

When Slave came upstairs on Tuesday morning, after finishing my daily “homework assignment”, Mistress was clearly in the mood for action. She read my blog entry with some amusement, as I nuzzled her already quite liquid cunt.

“Did you start without me this morning, Mistress? You’re already very wet.”

“No Slave….but I may require the Hitachi this morning. I think I am getting addicted.”

No surprise. Between it’s merciless efficiency and the words whispered into her ear by her Master as he instructs her how and where to apply it, addiction seems like a very likely outcome. Poor dear.

I pulled the device from under the bed and switched it on.

“Show me where he tells you to apply it Mistress….”

She did just that, using her hand to position it just so. I took over from there.

“And what does he say when you have it in the proper position, Mistress?”

“He says, ‘Slave’, …. he calls me his Slave, ‘Slave, remember to ask for permission before you come.’”

“How does that feel, Mistress?”

“Humiliating, Slave.”

And how do you ask for permission?”

“I say, may I come now, M?”

I hope he makes her say “please”.

And at about that time Mistress came with full force, moaning with that sexy, throaty voice of hers, and writhing against the little churning bulb at the end of her favorite toy.

Later that day, on the ride home, Mistress and I spoke about my trip out of town the next morning, to our nation’s capitol. (I am on the plane even now, as I type this.)

Fortunately, she’s joining me there Thursday evening for a little two day get-away. But we will be apart for 36 hours or so. Not used to that these days. It will be lonely in my bed tonight.

We talked about what toys to bring. And one thing she vetoed was bringing the Hitachi for play when she arrived. She was unnerved at the thought of the NTSA guy pulling it from her bag and asking pointed questions.

I offered to bring it with me, but that was vetoed. I guess she had other plans for it while I was gone. Which got my mind going in an naughty direction.

“Maybe I should hide the Hitachi before I leave town, Mistress.”

I was being provocative.

“That would be very bad, Slave. Maybe I should call M now and report this bad behavior.”

And she did, dialing the phone and finding our Western Correspondent readily available.

“You won’t believe this, M. Mick is leaving town in the morning and is threatening to hide the Hitachi before he leaves.”

I could hear his laugh crackling over the line. And he was talking to her too.

“He says he’s going to train me to be a better Mistress. That I need to be much more obedient and deferential to me.”

“He’s probably right Mistress. That was clearly inappropriate.”

“He suggests I have you wear the steel cage when you leave in the morning. I’ll bet you would enjoy explaining that to some curious female NTSA guard when the metal detector goes off.

I imagined myself, being pulled aside, and wanded. And the loud noise that wand would make as it crossed below my belt buckle. Yikes. She wouldn’t would she?

“He also suggests I give you a good spanking when we get home.”



Oops. Bad development. Then I heard her say to him:

“I have this long shoe horn we got from a hotel in Chicago. I think we’ve posted a picture of it …. Yes, that’s the one. I’ll use it on him when we get home. Good advice. Talk to you later…..”

Mistress rang off.

My hand was on her thigh, sliding up under her hiked up skirt. I do like the way Mistress squirms ever so deliciously when she talks to our Western Correspondent.

“I’m going to take his advice you know….and before our bike ride. It want your bottom nice and sore when you sit on that bike.”

Why was all this threatening talk making my cock thicken?

One sick Irishman here.

At home Mistress stripped away her work costume of black dress and undies, and lay across the bed. She was ready for worship. And I was happy to kneel. I thought I did a particularly earnest job of massaging her naked lips and clit with my tongue. She seemed pleased once she was satisfied. But I had not earned a reprieve.

“OK, why don’t you pull down those shorts and lay across the bed, Slave.”

And I did. She wasted no time applying the wooden shoe horn to me with some relish.

“This is for threatening to hide our toy, Slave. How and when I use it is at my discretion, not yours.”

“Yes, my bad, Mistress”, I said obsequiously, while knowing that someone else might have something to say about when she did or did not use it.

“Yes, it was. Very very bad”

With the tenth or so stroke, I was being unusually vocal in my response, and my bottom was squirming on the bed. It’s actually harder to take this sort of punishment when not restrained. But I was obedient and took my medicine.

“Here are three more, just to make sure you don’t get in trouble while in DC.”

“You don’t have to worry about that, Mistress.”

And of course, she doesn’t.

When she was done, Mistress snapped the photo above, her tool draped across my reddened bottom. She instructed me to post it with today’s blog, and she texted the photo off to M to show that she had followed his suggestion with obvious effect.

“Now let’s go for that bike ride , Slave.”

Chastened, I slid my bike shorts up over my tender ass.

This would be interesting.

Mistress's Resolve Crumbles

Sunday night Molly and Mick attended a high school graduation party with our surly teens. We enjoyed a little wine and sat by a Koi pond in the warm and heavy river valley air. Summer had arrived in River City.

Mistress snapped a few pictures of the teen divas in training for her Facebook page, and shared one with our Western Correspondent. He’s sort of become a remote member of our entourage these days. And on the way home, Mistress mentioned that he wanted us to give him a call when we returned home.

“No sex tonite though, Slave.  You two have worn me out.”

“No problem from me, Mistress. I’m spent too. But doesn’t your new Master have something to say about that?

“I’m sure he’ll understand, Slave.”

Right.

When we got home we went up to our bedroom. Mistress changed into a lovely lacy confection I bought for her a few years back. Beige top and matching panties. I took off all my cloths, as she requires at bed time.

She asked me to hand her the phone and I did, picking up a section of the Times to read as she and M had their good night chat.

Up front, Mistress put some parameters on the conversation:

“I told Mick and I’m telling you – no sex tonight. You guys have worn me down this weekend.”

He seemed cool with that, apparently explaining he was a tad burned out too.

It’s fun to hear her perky, flirtatious voice as they talk. Mistress seems  a bit like a smitten teen, which, if you can recall those smitten teen days, can be a very uplifting thing.

And when Mistress is happy, this Slave is happy too.

The conversation somehow drifted to body parts, and it was hard for me not to add a few comments to the mix, or to answer the stray question.

“M wants to know if you think B is a knockout?”

 (B is M’s wife, who takes a firm hand with him from time to time).

“Well…I’ve never seen more than a head shot of B. I need a little more to work with…”

“He says you’re being very politically correct, Slave.”

“If he sends us a shot of her legs and ass, maybe I could be more candid.”

Their conversation went on. It sounds like B must have some very impressive knockers.

Then Molly shared with M a conversation we had earlier, sitting by that Koi pond:

“I told Mick that I may have ‘permission’ [she does, under our contract], but he does not…. That cock belongs to me.   But we agreed that f the 4 of us ever get together, then I might allow him to suck B’s cunt while you do me…”

“Yes, I’d be a tactical diversion”, I chimed in.

The funny thing for me to consider is how Molly and M would ever possibly keep their hands off one another at this point for more than 60 seconds if the four of us ever did get together.

They kept chatting, I distractedly paged through the Times, trying to consider the likelihood and consequences of war on the Korean Peninsula. That was not working for me.

Is it jealousy when your wife is flirting on the phone next to you with another man and you simply want to remind her that you are lying there next to her?  It’s not that I had any objection to their conversation.  It was cute and fun.

It’s just that I wanted to share in their fun, I suppose.  So I rolled over and put one of her succulent nipples in between my lips and began to suck.

“M, he’s sucking on my nipple now.”

“Sorry Mistress … I just wanted a taste.”

I tasted a bit and was about to return to the Times, as they chatted on, seemingly oblivious to me. But somehow the tone of Mistress’s voices was changing….not so perky….

“Uhhhh …. He’s  starting to give Instructions, Slave….”

“What do you mean?”

“he wants you to suck me ….”

“Where Mistres?”

“Down there Slave….”

She pulled the sheet away that was covering her thighs, to make the instructions a little clearer.

Hmmm. Mistress’s resolve was suddenly in shambles. But I was more than happy to be M’s remote  minion. I guess I had wanted a taste all along.

So I slid down, pulling away the panel of her lacy panties and used the tip of my tongue to explore the path from her aperture to her clit and back again.

She squirmed. She described to M what I was doing.

“He wants you to take off my underwear, Slave.”

“Of course, Mistress.”

Her hips rose and I slid off the thin lacy numbers, giving me all the access I needed.

Then I began my assault in earnest.

I could tell he was talking to her, though I could not hear a word. She was silent, focused on his words and my tongue.

“He wants you to suck my clit between your lips, Slave. Hard.”

And of course I did. I did it while Mistress worked herself into a very sensuous frenzy, with a series of moans into the phone, until she came. Then I kept at it until she came one more time before her hand pushed my head away.

By now my cock was very hard, and she could feel it pressed against her thigh.

She giggled, reaching for it and squeezing with her free hand.

“We have a situation here M….”

Fortunately for me, she was willing to wish her new Master a good night and take care of that situation.

As I fucked her with a certain ‘tired but too frustrated to wait until morning’ desperation, I asked her what exactly had happened to change her mind.

“I don’t know, Slave….one minute we were talking about B’s breasts….the next moment he had me spreading my legs and telling me to have you to do that to me….”

“Must be a rather compelling voice, Mistress….”

“Yes, Slave. I suppose it is.”

Well now it’s Tuesday morning. Mistress says she’s up. Time to join her back in bed. Hope all our stateside readers had a good holiday weekend.