I was not sure how Mistress would react to my story. But the results were quite pleasing. Of course, Mick enjoys the smutty comment and emails he received suggesting that the erotic heat my story generated was felt several states away. Barack spoke about alternative energy sources in his SOTU. I am glad to have played my small part.
But this blog’s primary target is Mistress Molly. And my fictional cruise missle seemed to hit its target. I liked the flush on her face and the not so subtle squirm that seemed to spread through her body as she read on to the end, first my original work, then the revised version, with a somewhat expanded ending, posted later on Friday.
After her second read, when I was under the covers, toying with her through those clingingly damp black tights(see the helpful illustration), Mistress told me that she wants to find out what happens next. And I promised to expand on the story of Mistress’s rendezvous with Robert sometime soon.
Question: should the continuation be a first hand narrative, or the story of what happened as recounted by Molly to Mick as he kneels between her legs later that night? Or both?
As you might imagine, the little stories and speculations we sometimes share tend to quicken our desires for one another all the more. As if that’s possible.
An example: on Thursday Molly received an email on her “FetLife” posting (under MollyCollins if anyone wants to check it out) from a dominant fellow who lives on the other side of the River with his fetching Slave / wife. “I am intrigued by the cuckold lifestyle”, he told her, “It wouldn’t work for me because I am sexually dominant. But the idea of tormenting some poor husband while his wife is made to serve is interesting.”
Yes. Very interesting. Not long after we discussed his message, and Molly’s desire to respond and meet this couple for drinks sometime soon, Slave was buried between Mistress’s legs, and she was working through a series of mini-explosions as she pressed her self against me as I sucked her oh so responsive parts tightly between my teeth and lips.
Molly then gave me permission to fuck her, and asked me to describe my speculations on how a meeting with this couple would go.I will spare you the long version, but it involved Mistress bound, on her knees, being required to served both this assertive Master and his lovely Slave. That thought had Mistress demanding to be on top, so we reversed positions and she worked her self hard and long against me to the type of moaning crashing explosion that leaves her shaking and teary eyed. That’s my favorite kind.
Yesterday Mistress visited me again in my office, after a morning and lunch hour of some dreary meetings with one of her clients. She seemed eager for worship and I was happy to oblige. It was cold here, and both Slave and Mistress needed some warming up. As I prepared her throne, the talk turned again to my story about her and the fictional “Robert”. Those thoughts seemed to accelerate both of us, and as I knelt between her legs and tasted her through those black tights, I had the now familiar sensation of a hardening cock checked by the cold steel of the cage she had locked for me that morning.
Once Mistress’s tights were pulled down to provide my mouth with more direct access, Mistress wound her hands into what is left of my hair (there is some in back) and pulled me fiercely to her. The diabolically contented, look on her face from my perspective on my knees after she explodes for me in my office may be my only reward….but well worth the wet face and that time on my old, achy knees. Another day at the office.
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