Horniness is the Mother of Invention

We were tucked away in this old Victorian “rooming house” at the Lake Michigan Beach. Leaves almost gone from the trees.

Chilly wind blowing off the lake.

Winter coming on.

Our friends from out west were off with their team on the flight home.

So the apartment we had rented with them in mind was now all ours. And as I worked on yesterday morning’s blog, I reconnoitered the furnishings and fixtures to see what I could improvise for a suitable switch opportunity when my Mistress woke from her beauty rest.

As you can see, I settled on a the little 4 person dining room table tucked against the wall, repositioning it closer to a plug so that the mighty Hitachi, still tucked into Mistress’s bag from her naughty phone sex date in River City with M, could be readily deployed.

When Mistress finally awake around 8:45 am, I was ready to pounce. She read the blog and your comments.

(“My, Aisha and Sin beat me to the blog this morning Slave”)

Then I pounced. Black rope was ready to bind her wrists in front.

“Not so tight Slave….do you think I’m really going to try to escape?”

“It’s always possible, Mistress.”

Then I pulled her up and out of bed.

“What….. where are we going.”

“There is a nice balcony out front, Mistress. Just think what the cool wind would do to your nipples….”

“You wouldn’t ….”

Well, I would actually …. But not this morning.

I pulled her into the little living room, over the table, onto which I had positioned a thick cushion. Fixed her hands to the front legs. Then roped her thighs to the rear legs in that nice and available position illustrated above.

There was then a photo opportunity. One shot was on my little cell phone. A Text message to our Western Correspondent.

“Look what you are missing, M.”

Was that cruel? Maybe. But Mistress seemed very supportive of the idea.

“That will be a nice wake up for him, Slave.”

Photos taken to record the moment, I turned my attention to Mistress.

My probing fingers demonstrated how wanton she really is. All that Molly juice. All those little wiggles.

“Wet already, Mistress…..and I haven’t even started.”

I stated with my broad western belt.

“Owww…. That hurts Slave.”

“are you asking me to stop?”

“Ummmm ….. no.”

Of course not. My little slut for the day liked it. It got her ass all squirmy, witching back and forth as she made her pathetically unsuccessful efforts to avoid each slap from the belt.

once she turned a nice rosy glow, it was time for her to feed a bit on my cock. Which, once nicely firmed up, poked and probed at her…. The angle and height of the table did not really permit a good solid fucking from behind, but the teasing was nice for both if us. Well at least it was for me.

Then there was some hand spanking. Some more teasing with probing fingers.

Mistress was moaning a bit now, well Into her role as my Slave for the day.

That’s when I reached for the Hitachi, tucked under a nearby couch.

Mistress started when she hurt the low hum as I turned it on.

“Ohhh…. You found it Slave….”

“of course, Mistress…. Wouldn’t want it to go to waste.”

As I slid it between her legs, pressing it home, Mistress was almost immediately begging ….

“DO you mind if I come now, Slave….. I really need to …..”

“I think what you need is to beg…..”

She was writhing now, tugging against the ropes that bound her thighs apart, and to the legs of the table.

“Oh…. God….. please Slave… please.”

I slid the device down her thigh a bit, damping her urgency. At least so I thought.

“Ohhh…. So mean Slave…. I need it…. Put it back…. Please.”

I am a pushover, as you all have come to know.

So I buckled to Mistress’s pleas. The power tool was quickly back where Mistress wanted it – pressed home against her twitching, soaking folds.

“Oh, yes…. Slave….. now please may I come..”

“Yes, Mistress…. You may.”

It took no longer than 5 seconds before Mistress was straining all the harder against the ropes, squeezing her thighs in a death grip around the business end of the Hitachi, crying out her passion, hips flaying against the table.

I could have relented then, knowing she had her wanton way, but I continued to press it home until she rode the cunning vibrations through another mighty cum.

As she collapsed against the table, she was making another plea….

“Turn it off now please Slave…. So sensitive….”

And of course I did.

Her legs were unbound then. But not her hands. I wanted to control her still, leading her by the black rope into our little bedroom. Spreading her on the bed, on her tummy.

Then I took my reward from behind, sliding hard and deep into her, burying my face in her long, fragrant hair.

But now I’m hearing Mistress’s footsteps upstairs. And I am thinking that this story may have to resume tomorrow…. I have some other plans.

Rip, Ripple, Rippling

That comment yesterday morning, the one about our Friday night activities being “F****ing hot, came, of course, from the Western Correspondent.

And when Mistress read it, as I showered her damp and musky folds with attention from my tongue, it seemed to make her all the more wanton and responsive to my ministrations.

M’s reaction to our little tale had rippled back to Mick and Molly back here in the heartland.

And she was pleased to discover, as her hands groped for my cock when her first orgasm of the day was in the books, that her sexual energy had rippled along to me.

“Oh… already prepared to fuck me, Slave…. That’s what I like.”

Yes, my “quick start” mechanism was in good working order .


After, we took a walk on the Lake Michigan beach, all bleak and blustery, the sun just rising over the bluff. Then it was breakfast with our friends before heading to my alma mater for a football extravaganza

These are good friends that we see only a few times each year. But because they know us not from the world of work, family and kids in River City, somehow we seem more open with them, and them with us. We trade candid stories about kids, ex’s, or our life before we went “public”, much more easily than with our family and friends at home.

But how far do you go?

At some point over the weekend, I think I referred to my beloved Molly as “Mistress”. It’s hard not to let it slip. But it seemed to fly past them.

And when we mentioned a trip next weekend to a party a few hours south of River City, it’s hard not to share the backstory: the blog, our new blogland friends, etc.

But I stepped back from that ledge. Not quite ready for the plunge.

Later as we walked around campus, Mistress was checking her I-phone.

“M’s watching Colbert and Stewart, Slave. Their big rally in D.C. He says it’s hilarious.”

Had Molly just mentioned M to our friends?

I whispered to her, “Uhhh…. Does Jane know about M?”

Maybe Molly had disclosed what I had contemplated, during some girl talk that I had missed?

“ Oh… I just told her that he was our friend.”

After the game, our amigos from out West headed back to their hometown on their team’s plane. And as we walked back to our car, Mistress shared a few more details about her texts from M during the day.

“He says that our blog really made him hot this morning, Slave…. He read it and then went upstairs and had ‘epic’ sex with B….”

“Glad we could spread the lust, Mistress.”

.

Hearing that our activities and words can light fires so far away is quite a rush for this old Irishman.

And on the drive back to the Lake, Mistress and M got to talk a while. It had been two days, and it was clear M missed Molly. And she had missed him.

Over dinner, we were contemplating what ripples we might encounter next weekend, when Aisha and Sir D join us for dinner and we attend their local play party.

“I ordered those special hose, Slave. The one’s with the strategic opening, so you can have easy access.”

“Well, theoretically, not just me, Mistress.”

“True, Slave…. So true.”

Mistress eyebrows lift suggestively, that little teasing smile hinting at the possibilities.

“I think all that talk about you taking on other cocks must have gotten M going, Mistress…..”

“Yes, Slave…. But sometimes I think you just try to tease him.”

“Who me? …. Maybe he was imagining it was his cock…. That I was watching you suck him off, Mistress.”

Mistress’s eyes lost focus a bit….I could sense that little squirm across the table as she fingered her wine glass. Apparently that scenario had struck a nerve.

“But what about you Slave…. What should you wear to the party?”

“The cage?”

“Well, of course. But wouldn’t that get uncomfortable?”

“I suspect it might.”

“Well I could always have the key with me, in case of an emergency.”

“How about a collar, Mistress?”

“Good idea…. But would I get a leash?

“If you would like.”

“I think I would, Slave.”

“Should I bring along those red leather cuffs, in case you want to lock them on my wrists?”

“That sounds like an excellent idea, Slave. But wouldn’t all this be a little humiliating for you?”

“Not if there are other folks dressed in similar fashion, Mistress. It would sort of be like a Halloween Party, wouldn’t it? And I would just be showing m devotion to you.”

All this talk led Mistress and Slave to skip dessert.

At least the sugary kind.

With our friends gone, and the little apartment we had rented for the weekend now all to ourselves, we retreated to bed, and some “Epic” activity of our own.

Frenzy

I collected Mistress in front of her office building yesterday, a little past noon.  She had just emerged from one long car ride, from Music City, and we were embarking on another: up to Lake Michigan to meet two of our “out west” friends for a little college football weekend action.

Standing on the side walk, as I pulled up, Mistress was a sight for sore and needy eyes: stylish fitted black pants, a black top showing off her buff arms. That long dark flowing hair.

Later in the car, we talked:

“After you’ve been away, and I see you for the first time, I’m always reminded how lucky I am to have you, Mistress. Or to be had.  You are ravishing, you know….”

“Mmmmm. Music to my ears, Slave.”

Mistress was tired from her earlier drive, and napped some as I steered us past the cornfields and back to my old alma mater where we collected our friends.  Then onto the Lake Michigan shore where we had reserved a charming two bedroom apartment in an old Victorian Inn.

Quarters were close, and we had our friends to catch up with, so Mistress had to settle for some quick worship in our bedroom as our guests changed. 

She sprawled back on the bed, caught up with Friday’s blog and your kind comments, and spread her legs for me.

But before I caved to the impulse of falling to my knees and tasting the juices Ihad been denied for TWO WHOLE DAYS …. I had to snap a photo.

“I am sure M will want to know you got here safe and sound, Mistress.”

“Go for it Slave.”

After I had finished my brief but productive feast, the chime on my phone went off. That was quick.

“You’re killing me here, Mick.”

Cruel, I know.

Then there were drinks, chat, dinner. And it was late by the time we got home to break Slave’s fast.

We said quick good nights and adjourned to our chambers. We got naked very fast.

And  there was a veritable frenzy of fucking.

At some point, as I was slowly sliding in and out of her, savoring the taste of her neck, Mistress asked the question that she is allowed to ask….

“What are you thinking, Slave?”

It’s in the contract. Although tempted, I can’t blow it off. So I was honest.

“It was about you and the first M ----(her ‘starter dom’, that guy from last winter / spring before she and the current M became an ‘item’) --- I was thinking about you stripping for him. Allowing him to inspect you, play with your cunt.  Was that a turn on Mistress?”

“Oh…. Well yes, it was Slave…. Pretty hot….”

We talked a little more – her being fed his cock for the first time, being fucked by him with her legs over his shoulders -and Mistress began working herself into a frenzy….

“Can I get on top, Slave….I guess I really don’t have to ask, do I?”

Of course she doesn’t.

Now she was up there, riding my cock, hard, grinding against me, and muttering some dark and enticing fantasies.

We were onto the upcoming play party. And what might happen.

“How would it be to watch me suck off another man, Slave…. Do you think you could handle it?”

“Ummm…. I could, Mistress….”

“Wouldn’t it be humiliating to see your wife, on her knees, submitting that way to another man … and enjoying it?’

“Yes…. But also very very hot, Mistress….”

“You know we’re going to do that someday, don’t you, Slave?”

Mistress was gasping now, getting near her point of no return.

“I suspect so Mistress.”

“I want to have you watch me, seeing you play with your own cock while I take another man on…..”

Then Mistress was crashing hard over the edge, moaning, collapsing onto me, rolling off … breathless.”

“Fuck me slave…. And tell me about it.”

I did my duty. Con mucho gusto.

It’s very good to have her back.

Mick and the Western Corespondent Commiserate in Mistress's Absence

After posting yesterday’s entry I called Mistress down in her hotel in Music City. Waking her in the morning is one of her Slave’s duties and I was happy to do the honors.

Sounds like Mistress has a good evening, ending with some country music at a local honky tonk with her friends.

We signed off after a brief chat. Mistress was going back to sleep. I was heading to the shower, and then to work.

But my instructions were clear.

“Now, Slave…. Don’t forget the cage.”

“Of course, Mistress….”

And to prove my obedience, I snapped this photo of me on my laptop cam, all secured away, then emailed it to Mistress.

(Sorry for the shadows, but it was still pretty dark here in River City when Mick suited up this morning.)

Mistress was a busy lady most of the day. But I did hear from M, our Western Correspondent, who seemed to be missing Mistress almost as much as me. Here’s his email, commenting on Mistress’s letting me out of my cage Wednesday night before bedtime:

“Hey Mick,


Molly said she would let you out if you want.. we are both softies.

Don't want to fuck with you guys’ program

always worry about that ... but

I will if you want me to..

let me know for next switch day..

will get that little slut off big time the next day!!!

I like you both a lot.

Molly and I had very hot phone sex today,, was very hot!!!

She makes me very HOT!!!

I know that turns you on and that is... so cool!!

It is hot to think about your wife getting fucked by another guy!

B has been spinning hot talk about a threesome with some hot young stud fucking her

I understand you are alone tonight.

Molly loves you so much... she tells me that all the time.

Hope you are not worried ( But she doesn’t ever want you to fuck anyone else again. I’ve told her to lock u up and make sure!!!) Also told her I am sure you won’t.. your blog is a love story.

funny, I was worried about us

6 months ago I was worried about u when she first went with her “starter Dom” (the other M).

But you were a stud, and not worried.

Was fucking hot today though!!!

Will fuck the shit out of her someday

will be fucking hot.

your good friend and blog fan,

M”


What to say? Reading over M’s heartfelt (0r should I say ‘cockfelt’) correspondence does make me realize that our odd little three way relationship is not exactly conventional.

But, as you can tell from M’s effort to reach out to the other guy in the triangle, our Western Correspondent is a stand-up guy who, despite his obviously prurient interest in Molly, also is considerate enough to keep her Slave happy and secure.

Particularly when I am back here in River City, pining for Mistress.

So when I saw this email on my office computer Thursday morning, I had to return the complement:



“Thanks M.... She did spring me from the cage last night. And believe it or not I do appreciate what you have added to Molly's life.

Keep up the good work.

And I hope you do get to fuck her some day. I know she is desperate for it,,,, though she may try not to let it show. You are a very disciplined Dom to resist her charms as long as you have.

Mick”

It’s true. Mistress clearly enjoys the extra attention that our Western correspondent regales on her. It makes her smile. Makes her squirm. Inspires her to do all sorts of wanton things.

And what makes Mistress happy makes me happy too.




When I got home from work Thursday afternoon, Mistress cut me another break.

“Ahhh…. Can I ask a favor….I’d like to go for a bike ride, but the cage….can I take it off now, Mistress.”

Believe me, you don’t want to hop onto that narrow bike saddle with all that metal surrounding your cock and balls.

“Yes, Slave…. You may take it off now….but remember, no touching. I want you desperate for me tomorrow when I get home.”

“That won’t be a problem, Mistress.”

Well the desperation part won’t be a problem. That’s for sure.