HUH?

"Simone" and "Sam" have been forced to go on the Lam, after some sloppy security work exposed them to their potential "enemies". Fortunately, they've found help through the SBPP.
("Sex Bloggers Protection Program"). Follow their adventures here until its safe for them to resume their prior alter-egos.

Sunday, December 13, 2009

A Dickensian Saturday Night



Dear Mistress,

No, I am not thinking “A Christmas Carol”. Though we heard more than a few last night. I was thinking “Tale of Two Cities”, as in “The best of times and the worst of times.” But really more “satisfying times and frustrating times.”

Saturday started more than satisfying. I woke to do my homework,  then came up to bed, after letting you sleep in a bit. By then I was so horny after writing about my punishment that  we skipped the reading part (and that embarrassing picture of my striped bottom you required me to post), and moved directly to the satisfying Mistress (and me) part. Which was very, very nice…only after that did you check out our posting and that picture.

We had a bracing bike ride on the hills of our little town in the cold December air. Then I was off to do my penance with some family business.

When I got home, you directed me upstairs, and told me to undress.  I could see you in the bathroom, fumbling with your strap-on, which got me abuzz instantly. We lay on the bed together, kissing, fondling and talking smut, until I was quite hard and you were primed as well.  You applied the proper quantity of lubricant (see the photo, no promotional consideration provided by J & J).

You told me to position myself, and I did, laying there with a pillow propping my ass up just a bit. Ready for you.

You have gotten increasingly skilled at turning me into a quivering hunk of Slave this way, Mistress. You needed no help in finding your mark, and slid into me gently at first, filling me in a way that made my cock even harder as it pressed against the bed beneath me.

But soon your thrusts were increasing in tempo and I could hear your own breathing matching my level of excitement. I felt and heard you come against me once, then twice, and then you rested against me, before extracting your dildo from my well taken ass. When you stood to take off your harness, you told me to insert my little white probe and return to fuck you properly. And of course I did, only taking my satisfaction after making sure you came again, this time with me inside you.

By the time we were done, we were both exhausted and napped a while before leaving our bed to light the candles and get ready for our evening out.

I had been told to wear my cock ring, something you know frustrates me on our nights out. Its always a bit of a pain to squeeze my balls through, one at a  time, then smush my cock in to join them. When properly applied, the ring gathers my cock and balls in a little package, which you seem to admire, and like to  tease.

I enjoyed watching you dress in your delicious black dress, layered over with a silk covering in red and black. Underneath was that skimpy green thong, and then the black tights and boots that I am hooked on. More Goddess than Domme tonight, but sure to catch the eyes of the gentlemen we would encounter. See some pictures of Mistress getting ready and on the town in this posting.




First there was an annual holiday  party at our friends’ home, one we had not been to in several years because of our travels. It was good to see all these folks, and nice to miss one person we both wanted to avoid.  But we had other plans. By 9 we were heading to that romantic bar we love,  overlooking our River town, for some dancing.

On our drive you seemed focused on your magic phone, scrolling through an email from some mysterious person. The smile on your face and your furious finger tipped typing of a response made me curious. I asked whether this was a  would be Dom, and you just gave me the coy “mind your own business, Slave”, look.

But then you read a bit to me, repeating some words that I had written myself, about the type of man who would require you to address him as “Sir” or “Master”, to whom you might surrender that tight control of yours.

Whoever this correspondent was, he had seemed to crack the code, and I could see you squirm a bit. This made me all the more anxious to slide my hand between your thighs as we completed our drive, and in return, you brushed your hand gently over my ringed cock.

The trouble (or delight) of that tight cock ring is that once the blood pumps through to the “package”, it does not easily escape. So from that point until now, my cock has been semi-hard and tingling.

I left you at the door and parked the car. You texted me before I arrived that I had better hurray in, since several men had asked for the seat you had saved for me. No doubt. You were the loveliest woman in the room, and seemed to be spewing pheromones at an increasing rate after perusing your emails.

We sat together at the Bar, enjoying the dramatic views and the people watching. As the little combo and vocalist worked through their book of standards and jazzy versions of Christmas tunes, we rose for an occasional dance.  To that old Nat King Cole Christmas chestnut we swayed and clung to one another, my hand stroking your luscious bottom through that silken dress, and you kissing me with abandon, oblivious to the glances of the blue haired ladies at tables clustering the dance floor.

When we sat between dances, you enjoyed teasing me with a few quick reviews of newly arrived emails. “Should I send him a picture?” you asked.  Of course this got me squirming even more. I wonder if the folks at the bar noticed my hand caressing your thighs through the fabric of your tights as you typed your response.

It was time to go.  I needed you. And it was then you admitted that you had a drink more than your normal limit. We walked to the car, and I suggested you lay back, and imagine that this hypothetical Master was driving you home, not your Slave. I commanded you to spread your legs, and as my hand touched you there, I discovered you were sopping wet. Soaked clear through your undies and tights. The incendiary emails had found their target. Soon the car was filled with the scent of your arousal as my hand gently stroked you, and you sighed and squirmed against my hand.

Here is the frustrating part. By the time we got home it was clear that my slightly tipsy Mistress was in need of sleep, not my cock.  Soon you were naked and  out like a light next to me. Though you did have the presence of mind to instruct me to keep my cock ring on until morning.

Ouch. I would suggest that my male reader try sleeping next to a sexy Mistress such as mine, cock and balls confined that way, after an evening of such exquisite anticipation.

Mistress, I am glad you are sleeping well upstairs as I type away down here, dark and rainy outside . But every time I rolled over into you last night, and smelled or brushed against your skin; and every time you rolled over into me, your thighs pressing against my bottom,  your breasts against my back, my cock tingled and thickened just a little more.

Several times last night, I considered ignoring your command and taking off this damn ring, but did not want to be a disobedient Slave. So I am just a tired and frustrated day. Glad today is not a "schhol day". Plan on napping with you later. After resolving some unfinished business.

Maybe this was your plan all along for our Saturday night?,  Rather than indulge me the way you usually do, you connived to deny and frustrate me? If so, it worked.

Now I am just waiting, impatiently,  until sunrise, when our Sunday switch begins. Pent up demand could make me particularly demanding this morning, Mistress.









No comments: