Mistress and Slave were on the party circuit again last evening …. Yet another retirement party (not sending a good message is it?) and then Mistress’s office holiday extravaganza.
I think at one point I did drop to one of Mistress’s colleagues an aside about how I am her devoted Slave…. But by then the exotic martinis all had been consuming seemed to obliviate the impact of my naughty little remark. (Is that a word --- or am I going all Palin-esque).
By the time we returned home – to a sidewalk that required shoveling – Mistress was in a different zone, lounging about the house in her black tights and bra, a plate of left over apple crisp in her hands. The surly teens were rolling their eyes, amused at their tipsy mom.
But then it is the holidays, and restrained indulgence has it’s place.
In any event, there were no between the sheets indulgence for Molly and Mick last night.
But this morning was a different matter.
Mistress was awake earlier than normal, debriefing with me about the night’s events and our WC’s contacts with her yesterday.
“He was very attentive yesterday, Slave…. “
“AS he should be, Mistress.”
“I think he is anticipating that we won’t be in touch much over the holidays.”
In fact we are heading out to our mountain hideaway this afternoon – driving for a change – much to the consternation of our two pampered divas in training.
“I’m sure he will miss you Mistress….and you will miss those dates.”
“I will Slave….”
Mistress was stretching her arm a bit. She had been annoyed by a sore shoulder this last week, probably from a little too aggressive use of the weight machines at our gym.
I rubbed it with a meaty paw for a while, then reached over, under the bed, for Mistress’s brand new Hitachi.
Sensing my movement, Mistress almost immediately rolled onto her back, spreading those delicious thighs….
“Wait, Mistress…. I was going to use it on your shoulder.”
I think she was a little disappointed.
“Sorry, Slave…. I thought you had something else in mind.”
“Well let’s just say I was going to start on your shoulder….”
And I did. The cover story on the box is true. It does help relieve the pain of sore muscles.
But then I soon had the churning device sliding down her back, then between those slightly parted thighs. And the aroma of Mistress’s wanton arousal was soon coursing through the room.
“Ummmm….. let me roll over Slave….”
She did, and was soon writhing as the lead of the tool focused on her dripping folds.
She struggled to extend to ecstasy a bit, directing me with her words and hands. But soon Mistress succumbed to the relentless power of the Magic Wand, with some of those lovely moans, her hips rising off the bed.
And as she was coming down, she wanted something else.
“Give me the cock, Slave. I need it now.”
And it was more than ready to serve her.
Look forward to our reports from the road this weekend. And wave if we drive by you some where in Missouri or Kansas!
We did stop long enough to take a shot of the "Welcome to Holcomb Kansas" sign, scene of the Clutter murders made famous by Truman Capote.
