Mistress takes some R & R

Yesterday turned into an Abstinence Day for both Slave and Mistress. Well sort of for Mistress.

I had been let off the hook Wednesday. Both Morning and Evening. Too much sexual tension arising from Mistress’s 2nd “date” with her Dom to abstain on St. Patrick’s Day.

And I suspect Mistress lost count of how many orgasms she had Wednesday, between wake up sex, worship at my office, her extended session with her Dom while I was stuck with the old Irish guys, then me tonguing and fucking her after we both arrived home that evening. What would St. Patrick have said?

So when Mistress woke up Thursday morning, she made it clear that her smooth shaven tunnel of love needed some R & R. I was not permitted my normal morning worship opportunity.

It was a beautiful day here yesterday in River City. So Mistress spent some time working out side, while recharging that long lost tan. She checked in with me during the day. Making sure I was still comfortable with her new adventure. And I assured her that I was. Crazy, maybe. But very comfortable.

When I arrived home, we were determined to take that bike ride we had missed earlier in the week. Who can pass on 70 degrees and the extra daylight?

But I asked Mistress if she would like worship first.

“Yes, Slave, but be gentle.”

And I was. I am still smitten by Mistress’s smooth clean-shaven look. So very smooth and welcoming to tongue and lips. I tossed a pillow on the floor. Mistress lay back, and I gave her delicious parts a thorough tongue massage. No probing fingers, just a light, lengthy and gentle touch.

“How do I taste, Slave. I confess … no shower today. Is that terrible? It was too nice to waste time inside.”

“You’ re Delicious, Mistress”

And of course my taste buds perked up. Searching for the flavors of one man’s fingers and fluids mixing with my own. ….”Interesting”, is the only way I can put it.


I use these opportunities, as I did the evening before, to pursue some un-hostile cross examination of Mistress. She is forthcoming about her encounters. In fact I think she likes to gently taunt me. But sometimes the details need to be pried loose. She may still be a little embarrassed. So I will occasionally lift my tongue away from its mission in order to raise a query or two.

“How did he inspect you Mistress?”

I was referring to her clean-shaven pussy, the one that he had asked to be adorned with a “racing stripe”.

“With his fingers, Slave. It took him a while.”

Were you standing, or on the bed?”

“No he had me. …Over that big ball.” (One of those large exercise balls. Clever.)

“How did that feel, Mistress”?

“A little humiliating, Slave.”

No doubt.

“And did he make you come that way, Mistress?”

“Yes, Slave. But it took … a while.”

Mistress’s breathing was quickening now. It’s hard for her to talk and come, that’s my way of dragging it out, I suppose.

“Did he make you beg, Mistress?”

“Yes, Slave. I had to beg.”

Of course.

I had heard enough for the moment. Returning to my task, I ratcheted up my gentle tongue massage to a level that squeezed a lovely orgasm from my oh so very desirable Mistress.

When she came down from that little mini-high, we dressed for our bike ride. It was a spectacularly warm and sunny evening for it. Then, with the surly teens out and about, we prepared a lovely dinner for two. Gnocchi. Pesto. Mushrooms. Green Beans.

Later, in bed, I asked Mistress if there was any soothing goop available that I could use to moisturize her needy little cunt (I think I was more polite about my language at the time). Frankly, I was looking for a good excuse to touch her there. Can’t get enough.

She seemed happy to accommodate my needs, and pointed me to a jar of cocoa butter cream. I took some time rubbing the slippery, aromatic goo into her skin, making sure that all the little folds were well coated. But when my finger “accidentally” took a few twists around her clit, I was reprimanded.

“Do NOT try to arouse me, Slave. I really have had enough.”

“Yes Mistress.”

My finger behaved itself after that.

But it’s a new day now.