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.

Wednesday, December 23, 2009

Mistress Chills after a Day on the Slopes


Dear Mistress,

Skiing with our children is fun. But all that time on the ski lift with the surly teens does cut into a Mistress and Slave’s intimacy time. It’s hard to do the post-clinch analysis we typically engage in when your daughter is sitting next to you, even with her I-pod cranked up. So we did not have the time yesterday to de-brief on our incendiary encounter in the closet from the evening before the way we would have liked.

By the time our Ski day was done, we were both happy to hide out in our room, first to check our emails, and then to pick off where we had left off. (The attached photo shows Mistress stripped to her skiing undies, doing an email check).

When you were ready for me, you suggested that I lose the underwear, and insert that little plastic probe. You like what it does to my cock. Of course, these were not mere suggestions, and I responded dutifully. There is something about being penetrated like that at your command that brings out the slave in me, and makes me all the more determined to please you.

Your ski undies are significantly thicker than your black tights, but I did enjoy the texture of them as I climbed into bed and slid next to you. You let me use my hand to massage you gently through them, until your hips began to make those little bucking motions against me that signal your increasing arousal. By the time I slid my hand inside those thick black long-johns, you were sopping. And our running dialog about what happened the night before seemed to make you all the hotter, until you came shuddering against my fingers with that lovely low moan of yours.

By now my cock was hard and demanding. Your fingers egging it on had their desired effect. And I clumsily struggled to yank off your ski-wear to make way for it. But you wanted to suck first (getting into practice, Mistress?).

You are very excellent in the deployment of your oral skills, Mistress. Though I am your Slave, I still have a bit of pride, and sometimes I am too proud to beg for the right to fuck you. I like to see how long I can last as you try to break my will. The light, teasing touch of your tongue along my shaft brought me to the brink. You kept me there for a while using fingers, mouth and tongue with deft skill until I could not take anymore, and you had me begging.

Thankfully, you were merciful and granted my wish. Hopefully you enjoyed the benefits of the hard cock that you had brought forth, as I took my time once allowed inside. I just remember a throbbing, multi-stage orgasm which left me ready for a long lazy afternoon nap as the light faded over the mountain.

Last night we took the girls back to our favorite local Cantina, where locals gathered for their annual Christmas sing - along. It was a family night, and we even provoked the cynical teens to put down their texting devices long enough to sing some with the crowd. Sweet.

The teens hitched a ride home with a friend, so we actually got to ride home alone, and talk about how we landed in this strange new world of D/s, and a sex life that seems other worldly.

My observation was that it began in July, 2008, when I realized I had to give up my traditional macho, aloof persona and let you take the lead in our sexual activities. After that, as each encounter has led to the next, my enslavement by you has become deeper. So that it has become natural for you to call me Slave (we have to be careful of that in public but slip some times). And I am your slave.

As a clever Mistress, you have deployed a number of tactics and tools to enhance my submission, step by step over a year and a half, so that certain words, actions, signals can begin to make me hard even without physical contact. You have gotten inside my head, and these benign manipulations have created a Slave that I hope is worthy of you. I really am addicted to your taste, smell and the texture of your skin.

I mention this in the context of your prospective submission to Sir. I wonder whether his skills are such that he will enslave you in that step by step process you have deployed so skillfully on me. If so, I suspect it will be a rewarding, and very exciting process for you, Mistress. Though I suspect your will to resist may be greater than mine has been. You will both be tested.

When we got home we really were tired and groggy, and were both determined to stick by the decision to pass for the night. But there were some second thoughts on my part, as I saw you stripped to your black tights and bra. I snapped a few photos to share with our reader(s) later. And of course after the photos were taken, I could not help feel you through your tights.

And when you pressed against me in the closet, unbuttoned my cowboy shirt and undid my belt, you knew what effect you were having on me, laughed and backed away. That was kind of you mistress, not to intentionally make me hard only to make me chill until morning.

I did ask for permission to worship a bit, and knelt on the floor, sliding my mouth against you through the tights, taking in your scent. But you ultimately said “No Mas”, apparently having hit your orgasm capacity for the day. I took satisfaction on a day’s work well done.

But now it is morning, and I am more than anxious to start again.

Love, your Slave.

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