HUH?

"Simone" and "Sam" have been forced to go on the Lam, after some sloppy security work exposed them to their potential "enemies". Fortunately, they've found help through the SBPP.
("Sex Bloggers Protection Program"). Follow their adventures here until its safe for them to resume their prior alter-egos.

Wednesday, May 5, 2010

What is it With Election Nights?

One of my earliest posts was an account of election night here in River City last November. That night, Mistress understandably was disturbed by a sighting of the women that Mick screwed up with. You know, the one responsible for the relationship that ultimately led to my contractual surrender of various rights to Molly. If you missed it, here is the link:

http://undercontracttomywife.blogspot.com/2009/11/election-day.html

Well last night was primary night here in River City. Another election night.

Molly and Mick got together as a result of our political activities. Think Atlanta convention, summer of 1988, the little Greek guy (before the tank), the two tall Texans, the guy who could not spell potato, and the rhyming Reverend. Well we missed a lot of that because we were too busy exploring each other’s bodies at a little Inn off of Peachtree. ….But that’s a different story.

But, more on point, we remain involved in the political world all those years later. So as the ballot boxes got unstuffed last night, we planned dinner and visits to various campaign related parties and activities.

If you caught yesterday’s entry, you know that Mick and Molly were on the rebound from an interrogation gone rogue on Sunday. It took us about 48 hours to clear the emotional decks and get our heads back on straight. But by Tuesday evening, as we plotted a romantic dinner for two at a hip new restaurant, we were back in the zone….

Mistress had set up a date with her Dom for the following week. And I was worshipping her in my office, on my knees, her legs spread, bearing her well shorn and juicy parts.

After my worship was done, Dinner was just up the street from our offices, at an open air spot with seating out on the sidewalk. We got seats right near the entrance, no doubt because the Hostess saw Mistress as the type of eye candy who would surely give the place a good name and fill more seats, if only by association. That’s just how hot she is!

We ordered drinks, and settled into some mussels, to be followed by some overpriced designer hotdogs.

Then she arrived. I saw her coming first, and felt obliged to point this out to Mistress.

She apparently was meeting a female friend, and they parked on a couch on the sidewalk, only about 20 feet from us.

Fortunately Mistress seemed better prepared this time, a sign that her authority is more firmly in place.

After some (truthfully) critical comments about this woman’s physical appearance, outfit and hairstyle (“She really is a mess, Slave. How could you?), Mistress took out her tweeter and posted a comment about having a dinner compromised by some “bunny boilers”. Ouch.

And she was right, of course. This woman was showing a lot more and unappealing skin than appropriate for a Tuesday night in River City. Her willingness to do this in such close proximity to us was, well, just plain tacky.

Later Mistress emailed our Western correspondent, M summarizing the bad position I had put her in:


We are at the board of elections dealing with some primary issues. We came to dinner before, at which time the bitch who Mick fucked showed up and preened in what I might add was A hideous dress barely covering her 52 year old legs. Ugh
Anyway, I now need scotch delivered through an iv and Mick will be punished. Hot ski photo too. I'd be happy to do u!

Molly

(M had recently sent us an ancient photo of his ski exploits. Very good form, that clearly impressed Molly).

Naturally, she showed me the emails she had sent. Something I clearly deserved, along with the punishment she threatened.

Election night ended uneventfully. (Most of) the good guys won. We headed home, and we were both a bit tired, so passed on intimacies for the night.

But early this morning, Mistress woke and called for my services.

After I gave her a suitable orgasm with my fingers, our bodies entwined, Mistress gripped my cock, and debated with herself over whether to impose abstinence for the day as part of my punishment. Somehow the threat of stimulation without release makes a morning cock even more of a morning cock.

“Well we could call yesterday abstinence day, mistress, because that’s the way things turned out.” ( I had to be out the door at 6am that morning for election duties).

“Oh…I am sure you’d like that Slave. You are just so undisciplined.”

But I could tell she was teasing. As her tormenting grip brought me closer and closer to an unsanctioned discharge, I began to beg.

“Please, Mistress, can I make love to you?”

That went on for a while, as her wicked fingers drove me to the brink.

But ultimately she relented. And as I fucked her I had a few questions:

“Remember when you asked if I wanted to go by myself on election night?”

That was Monday evening, when we were still picking through my Interrogation overreach.

“Yes, Slave. That’s when I was pissed off at you.”

“Were you planning a visit to Sir M if you did not come with me?”

“Well Tuesday is his most convenient night to see me Slave.”

:So what are you saying?”

By now I was getting Mistress close to another orgasm with some nice grinding thrusts against those lovely naked parts of hers.

“Well, I certainly would not have stayed home alone, Slave. You would have worn your cage. And I would have made ‘other plans’”.

“My guess is you would have enjoyed kneeling to suck his cock, Mistress.”

“yes, Slave. I would have….. I do.”

Her eyes were shut tight now, and I imagined her envisioning that cock, sliding into her mouth as she knelt at his direction.

“Why do you like that so much, Mistress?”

“I like the way he gets so excited for me, Slave.”

And I could understand why he does.

Soon Mistress was coming again, visions of thick Dom cock dancing in her head. And I was begging and receiving my own opportunity to join her in her bliss.

So we seemed to get over our election night encounter, though I still await (and look forward to) the punishment I deserve.





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