She has been receiving occasional and somewhat flirtatious messages from our western correspondent, M, which she has shown to me to get my own juices flowing. And her somewhat salacious responses to M show that Mistress is keen to give as good as she gets.
So when she arrived at my office, and I was pulling her “throne” up against my door, she pulled out her I-Phone.
“Maybe we should send M some photos, Slave.”
“Oh I am sure he would like that. What did you have in mind?”
Mistress sat on the chair, which I had covered with a blanket we use for these purposes. No point in getting the upholstery all wet and sticky.
“How about the Domme’s view as you kneel and lick me, Slave?”
I blushed a bit, considering how the top of my balding head would look from above, planted between Mistress’s spread thighs. But of course, if I objected on those grounds it would only encourage her. I tried a bit of misdirection instead.
I was on my knees now, peering at Mistress’s lovely, clean shaven parts.
“I could take a Slave’s eye view of your cunt, Mistress. That would really drive him crazy.”
She gave me that look, like I was crazy.
“No way is he getting that, Slave.”
Of course, I suspect that if Molly and M ever got together, M would get (or should I say take) a whole lot more.
“How about one of your ankle with those black panties draped around it.”
That’s where Mistress’s panties had ended up, draped around her right ankle, her legs spread wide for me as my head ducked down to taste her. Yum. She was already wet and quite delicious. All this talk, and the thought of a pictorial sharing of our office ritual, had already gotten Mistress’s juices flowing. There is no small part exhibitionist in my lovely sex goddess.
“Good idea, Slave.”
As I lapped and sucked at her, pulling her lit red bud out between those swollen pink lips with my lips and teeth, I could hear the faux shutter snap sound of Mistress’s i-phone. And then one leg and then another wrapped over my shoulders pulling me closer to her. Her cunt was particularly needy today.
She came with a sudden shudder and some ragged breathing as she tried to avoid sharing the sounds of her pleasure with my office mates. But her legs held me in tightly between her legs. I was buried between her legs, almost struggling to breath as I sucked with a renewed determination.
“Keep going, Slave. I don’t think we are done just yet.”
More snapping. More sucking. Then another convulsion against my laboring lips.
“That was ….good, Slave.”
Her legs slowly relaxed, then freed me, and I slid back. All of this had made my cock particularly hard. But I knew that it would have to wait until later for the attention it craved.
Mistress giggled as she stood and thumber her way through the photos she had snapped as I worshipped. The one above was my favorite, and she sent it to M via text message. But she also sent the more humiliating shots too, featuring my balding head, and her leg draped over and around my neck.
M had a virtual ringside seat to our little worship session, and now our other readers do too.
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