Merry Christmas, Mistress. My first one as your Slave. Hopefully many more, “if the fates allow”, as the song goes.
The house is quiet, our little tree lit up and the lights still blinking outside flashing off the chimisa bushes, where its supposed to be 4 below right now. I posted your favorite Christmas carol for this season on our Twit page to share with all those curious “followers”.
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=VcKRWlWG5Z8
We got a nice comment from a couple keeping up with our blog who say they live near a ski area. Hope their Christmas is warm, cozy and kinky. I wonder if they are near us?
(BTW, we love comments, and have struck up some interesting private email chats with some of you. So keep them up, and don’t be afraid to reach out to our email address, other than that crazy truck driver from Toledo. Got no use for his world view).
Soon the two teens will be up to unwrap their presents. I have two for you we probably can’t show the children. But I look forward to trying then out with you, maybe on our upcoming switch Sunday, unless you use them on me first.
Yesterday was filled with skiing, cooking, attending an ancient ritual, and then entertaining our friends for a Christmas Eve dinner of Chili, salad and apple crisp. It was fun to sit in front of the fire, at your feet and massage them. Last night Joe kept his hands under control. His wife must have spoken to him about keeping his hands to himself.
While we were too busy / tired for our typical afternoon and evening sex activity, it’s worth reporting on how our morning unfolded.
I did my homework, and then worshipped your scrumptious cunt for a while as you read. You came with those little jerks and gasps once you put your laptop down. Then I came up for air and shared the details of my dream.
It’s a subject I am not writing about for reasons we have discussed. But it did seem to get us both going. I asked for permission to fuck you, and my fingers buried inside you suggested you were more than ready. Instead, you directed me to lie back, and proceeded to make me even harder with your lips and tongue, until I had to beg rather than simply ask permission. Soon I was deep inside you, and enjoyed the complement you gave me about how very hard I was. It seems I have been hearing that from you a lot lately, but a guy in his 50’s never tires of that sort of flattery.
After we spent ourselves, I made us some coffee, and we settled into bed to read a bit before getting to work on our food prep. As you climbed out of bed, you commented on the sight of my cock, flashing out of the dark terry robe I was wearing. Standing over me in a particularly dominant pose, you reached out to fondle it, and, of course, it stirred, though it had only been about 30 minutes since our last extravaganza.
Wearing that short, silky black top with no panties, you straddled me me, grinding yourself against my cock until it hardened more for you.
I assumed you would take me that way, as is your right. But you apparently wanted to make sure I was even harder, to suit your exacting standards, before allowing me inside. You abruptly climbed from bed, and retrieved that long black glove you use to torment me. Your hand, now encased in soft leather, cupped my balls and stroked me. Soon you had a tool more than ready to please you.
You mounted me then, and took your time to pump yourself against until you had a shuddering orgasm, then reached behind me with your gloved hand to clasp my balls and order me to come that way.
It’s always a bit harder for me that way, but very, very satisfying. But this was my second performance of the morning. I was oh so close, and oh so desperate, but just could not make it to the top of that particular mountain, despite the teasing of your glove and the view I had of your strong and sensuous body writhing above me.
Ultimately you showed me mercy and let us flip positions. Soon I came with great relief, with your permission. Yet I probably do deserve some punishment for failing to deliver when and as ordered, Mistress.
Now its time to get ready for our Christmas morning, but I hope we get to give one another a special Christmas present before the teens wake to demand their gifts.
Love, your Slave.
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