Tuesday evening was a nice “date” night. After work, Molly picked me up in her Mom-mobile (the black station wagon) and we headed up to a (relatively) hip restaurant in a nearby 1860’s neighborhood, finally being reclaimed from decades of decline. We even ran into a twitter follower (no not for our “UnderContract” twitter site, we do vanilla twiting too), who searched us out after Molly posted a photo of her allegedly “hunkish” husband.
After dinner we headed to a nearby theatre to see a well reviewed drama. The theatre is located on a hillside with a grand view of our downtown. Since we were a bit early, and I was more than a bit horny, we found a secluded picnic table with an excellent view, and began to “make out” a bit. And while there was the occasional car and theatre patron passing by, Mistress used her hands to fondle my cock through my trousers (fortunately it was a cage-free day for me). We kissed, deep and long. My hand rode up the inside of Mistress’s naked thigh, locating the panel of her black undies. As we became more….interested…we almost aborted our theatre trip…. Almost.
Instead we waited until after theatre to finish the job, back in our cozy bed.
Yesterday Mistress had a work related dinner. So she had me wear the cage as a little extra insurance that I would not get into trouble if left to my own devices after work.
But she did have time to see me at lunch. She arrived at my office for a little worship first though. It was one of those rare days when Mistress wore pants. Black, form fitting pants that emphasize her shapely and alluring rump.
I pulled the chair to the door, and draped our handy blanket over it to protect the upholstery from her natural juices.
She pulled down her pants and lacy green thong (damn, should have gotten a picture of that).
I fell to my knees. My eyes fell on her delectable, clean shaven lips, as she spread her legs just wide enough to accommodate my face.
“You look sexy today, Mistress.”
“Oh, really? I thought you liked me in dresses better.”
“Some variety never hurts, Mistress.”
I began to probe her with my tongue, inhaling the intoxicating scent of her arousal.
“Did anyone flirt with you today, Mistress?”
I continued my assault, using fingers to pry apart those lovely, plump lips.
“Well … there was that man in the elevator. Handsome. He said he had never seen me in the building before. Wanted to know where I worked.”
“Hmmm.” I paused briefly in my accelerating attack on the little bud popping up through those denuded lips.
“Does that turn you on when handsome men flirt, Mistress?”
“A little, Slave.”
Then the conversation faded into the little stifled moans of pleasure, and the broken breathing that signals Mistress’s emerging climax. Soon she was thrusting her hips against my lips and tongue. It was a nice one. Such a shame that my cock was locked in its steel cage, the key back at home.
After Mistress regained her composure (as well as her pants and thong), we headed to lunch, picking up a salad and finding an open table on our public square. It was a lovely spring day, sunny, but without the heat and humidity sure to come.
When we finished our salads, I walked Mistress toward her office, but we paused at a very public corner. I kissed Mistress tentatively. Sort of a goodbye peck. There were hundreds of folks within site.
But Mistress would have none of that. She kissed me hard, deep, her compelling tongue invading her Slave’s mouth. And of course I reciprocated. This went on for a while, us standing at the busiest corner in River City, making out for our conservative little world to see. I was waiting for someone to yell “get a room.” I was acutely reminded that my cock was confined until Mistress saw fit to unlock it.
When we finally came up for air, Mistress and I headed back to our respective offices.
I knew it would be several hours before Mistress came home from her dinner. I hope she remembered where she left the key.
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