When Mistress visited me at my office yesterday she had a surprise.
She had an early conference call that morning. So I knew that I was unlikely to get the privilege of fucking her. Instead, I slid under the sheets as she read yesterday morning’s entry, and proceeded to please her with my tongue.
I really can’t get enough of that particularly sweet taste now that her Dom requires her to go hairless. So this was as much for my benefit as hers. And when she put down the laptop, and focused on what I was up to, it did not take her long to go over the top and take her pleasure, bucking against my devouring mouth.
But then she was up and to the showers.
“Sorry, Slave….”
“No problem Mistress. I’m a big boy. I think I can wait until this evening.”
Later as I took my shower, my mind drifted back to our morning’s activity, some of the things she had mentioned about her evening earlier this week with her Dom, and my cock began to thicken….argh.
I touched it - one long stroke - and it was …. needy. But I knew better. It took some will power to remind myself that I no longer had permission for such things. I tried to mentally focus on more mundane matters – the meeting with a client I had scheduled. Soon things were back under control.
By the time we were driving to work, and Mistress’s crossed ankles and naked feet were stretched out onto the dash, with my hand resting high on her soft and freshly moisturized thigh, I was beginning to regret my impressive self-discipline. It would be a long day. I mentioned to Mistress that I was a more than a bit horny for her.
“Oh…poor Slave. (can you hear the playful sarcasm).You will just have to wait.”
A well manicured finger slid oh so lightly across my pants, just below the belt line. And like some foolish rodent out of a Pavlovian experiment, I was jerking to attention.
But that was all from Mistress fingers. She wisely let me focus on my driving duties.
Mistress made it a little harder for me just before lunch time.
She stopped by for some worship between meetings, and the ritual changed a bit. I placed her throne against the door (there is no lock), but before she slid her black panties down, she reached for my belt.
“Huh?”
“You said you were horny, Slave…remember.”
Soon my pants and underwear were around my ankles, and Mistress was leaning over, her mouth open and taking in my cock.
“Is this how he makes you perform, Mistress?”
Mistress’s lips parted long enough to mumbling an assent.
I was imagining her naked, seated on his bed, and him presenting a cock for her ministrations. And of course by now, mine was hard and longing.
But it’s hard for me to focus on such things in my office. I was all dressed up in my blue suit, dress shirt and tie, to attend a civic leader’s funeral that afternoon.
So when Mistress suggested we clear my desk and that I take her there and then, I reluctantly demurred.
Was it the commotion in the hallway or the unlocked door? Or was I just too fussy about messing up my funeral costume with all that sweat and goop sure to be generated? It had me a little too angsty to perform for her.
Mistress laughed at my reluctance.
“Don’t say I didn’t offer, Slave.”
She gave me a rain check.
Hopefully her feelings were not hurt. Instead She spread her legs, slid down her panties and I knelt there for her, my pants still at my ankles. My cock still firm, but knowing I would have to wait until later.
After lunch, and before I headed to the funeral, I got an email from out western correspondent, M. Mistress had clearly texted him about my foolish decision. (She does like to tease M, as much as he enjoys teasing her.)
“Mick, I’m shocked ….propriety at last. Molly said she asked you to fuck her but you didn’t want to get messy. I’m Shocked. Very funny.”
Now I had let down both Mistress and our most devoted fan. Though I must say it gave me a buzz to think of Mistress sharing my refusal to perform with her partner in flirtation.
But there is a happy ending. We came home to an empty house, and after a nice sweaty bike ride, had some nice sweaty time in bed before dinner.
And later, after dinner and an episode of the Pacific, I could not help but ask for permission to taste Mistress one more time. And my tasting led to a firm cock, which she pumped with her hand until my pitiful whimpering and begging made her sympathetic to my pleas to fuck her one more time.
And as we fucked, I took the opportunity for a little more Q and A from her Tuesday evening with Sir M:
“I forgot to mention in the blog the other day that once he had you handcuffed and blindfolded , lying there on his bed, he fed you his cock…”
“Yes, I noticed that Slave….why didn’t you mention that?”
“I think I got lost in the narrative…. But was that a surprise when he did that?”
”Yes….with the blindfold, it was hard to tell what would happen next.”
“was he holding your arms down, over your head.”
“Ummmm ….yes Slave.”
How did that make you feel, Mistress.”
“Controlled ….very submissive.”
“And did it turn you on….to have that cock filling your mouth?”
“Yes Slave…it did.”
“And were his fingers buried in your cunt as you sucked his cock, Mistress?”
My thrusts were quickening now, and Mistress was getting close to another climax.
“Yes, Slave…he was playing with me … with his fingers …. as I sucked him.”
“And did he make you come that way, as you pleasured him with your mouth, Mistress.”
“Yes ….I did …Slave ….he made me come that way.”
I surmised that there was no begging involved, her mouth full and all, and soon my pumping had her over the top, and then me begging for my own permission.
It was nice to collect my rain check.
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