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.

Sunday, June 27, 2010

Mistress Works on Eliminating those Tan Lines

“Can you put some sun screen on my bottom, Slave.”

Of course, I could. The sun was bright and warm here at our mountain hideaway, and the low wall around our patio gives Mistress plenty of privacy for naked sunbathing.

The only hassle was finding an extension cord and outlet convenient enough to assure that he Hitachi was readily accessible where she had arranged her little sunbathing nest.

After I smeared some number 8 on her lovely bottom, I poked around as any good Slave would and noticed some hair sprouting up back there since her last waxing.

“Hmmm….you may want me to do some tidying up back here Mistress.”

“Do you mind shaving me back there later Slave…..it’s a little too hard for me to reach.”

Add another project to my weekend punch list.

After my inspection and sunscreen was liberally applied, I picked up the Hitachi.

“Just wanted to make sure that it’s ready for you, Mistress.”

I had plans to watch the big USA – Ghana Soccer game at the local Cantina. I figured Mistress might want to engage in a little self help in the absence of my cock.

But once the highly persuasive tool was churning in my hand, It seemed a waste not to put it to its proper use.

Mistress squirmed and squealed in surprise as the business end of the tool slid between her legs, finding that little vulnerable, but deliciously responsive spot.

But she did not protest. Instead her bottom rose up a bit to accept her therapy and make sure it was precisely on target.

Soon she was grinding against it, writhing a bit from side to side, before her body shuddered in release.

“It seems to be working fine out here, Mistress,” I said, using my best Mr. Wizard voice. Another experiment properly concluded.

“Ummmmm….Yes, Slave. Very well…..”

Mistress settled back in to her chair, picked up her book, seemingly content. And I was off to watch the game and it’s disappointing conclusion. But at least I am done with those annoying Vuvuzelas for the next four years.

At some point ,after Landon Donovan scored the sole goal of the day for our slow, lumbering crew, I got a text from Mistress. A storm had popped up over the ridge line, and sheets of rain were falling. Dramatic.

“Your naked and wet Mistress has gone inside, Slave. Come home soon.”

Soon I rode my bike home in the rain, stripped off the wet cloths, and joined Mistress in bed.

Sidling up against her, my hand wormed its way between her legs. As we kissed, and I used my fingers to tease and torment, I updated her on the motley crew with whom I had shared the afternoon.

“Any Master material, Slave?”

Mistress is always on the lookout for someone to take her firmly in hand. And out little town has its fair share of mountain men and ski bums who might fit her needs. But they weren’t wasting the day like me watching s sport where the score too often ends up 1-0.

“Not this afternoon, Mistress. It seemed that everybody but me was drinking Bud Light.”

Cheap, Yes. But hardly a sign of Alpha Maledom.

“Well, keep your eyes peeled, Slave.”

Oh, you can be sure of that.

Soon Mistress was moaning softly, as she came against my hand. Then rolled languorously over, onto her tummy, letting her tush squirm a bit against the bed with her little aftershocks.

I knew what this signaled. I got up and snapped the photo above. Then climbed back into bed, on top of that lovely bottom.

My cock was already rather hard, and I slid it between her firm and now tanned bottom cheeks.

“M is desperate to fuck you in the ass, isn’t he Mistress?”

Mistress remains a virgin there. She has said many times, she’s not allowing anyone to “go there”. But I can see an exception being made in this case.

“Yes….he talks about it a lot, Slave.”

“And I bet you’d give in to him….wouldn’t you?”

“Well it makes me a little nervous ….but I don’t really think I could say no to him if he insisted.”

“That would really make you his Slave, wouldn’t it….”

“I guess that would be the last straw, Slave…”

Yes, as one of our commenters noted a while back, the surrender of her final “virginity” to M’s desires would make her submission to him complete, wouldn’t it?

Mistress had lifted up her ass, just so, and my cock had wormed its way into her tight cunt, oh so wet and welcoming.

As we talked about how I would never think of denying M “first dibs” on her ever tighter as, I pumped away at her, increasing the tempo until my Mistress was moaning with a rather dramatic orgasm. And then another one.

And after a bit, when Mistress seemed sated, I rolled her over to finish the job, Grateful that Mistress was in a beneficent mood and allowed me to come too.

Now it’s the dawn of our switch day, what we have planned to be a “Naked Sunday.” Mistress will be naked, collared and restrained most of the day, with regular orgasms wrung from her, on the hour, every hour. There will be an exception made for our morning bike ride, and for dinner when two friends will join us. Though I am toying with the idea of making Mistress wear her collar or wrist cuffs for through the dinner hour.

Any thoughts on that, dear readers?

Be sure to tune on tomorrow to see how our adventure unfolds.








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