Worship Extravaganza

Mistress has been particularly horny of late.

No doubt it has a lot to do with her ongoing infatuation (enslavement?) via phone, text and email with our Western Correspondent.

He seems to know how to press Mistress’s buttons. But since I am the one with cock and tongue available at the drop of Mistress’s panties, I am more than happy to serve as his surrogate back here in River City.

Mistress had an early morning conference call yesterday.

So when I came upstairs and handed her my “homework” to read, she was happy to accept my worship – a slow and gentle massage of her slick and delicious cunt with my tongue – but we did not have the time for me to fuck her properly. Her Duty called.

Shortly before she headed to lunch with a colleague she called to let me know she would be making an office call at around 1:30. I knew what that meant.

When she arrived I pulled the chair to the door, spread out the blanket on the chair to avoid those tell tale stains on the upholstery, and fell my knees.

My duty called.

And it’s always nice to savor mistress musky enthralling juices on my lips through the rest of the day.

On the drive home, Mistress shared a bit of her ongoing dialogue with M. It appeared she had let it be known that she was particularly horny that afternoon.  And while I am sure she would have liked to hear his voice directing her to switch on the Hitachi and press it against herself just so, that was not in the cards last evening.

“He told me I should have my Slave worship me when we get home.”

“Happy to accommodate, Mistress.”

So before heading out for our evening bike ride, Mistress  lay on the bed, legs draped over the side, spread wide as I knelt before her.

I used my conventional techniques to take her to one gentle orgasm. But Mistress just lay there, legs still spread, eyes screwed shut, mind, who knows where. (well, I had a good idea where her mind was).

And until she tells me to stop, it’s my duty to continue to please her, isn’t it?

So I proceeded, but tried a change up that seemed to catch her off guard.

Mistress’s fantasy life with M apparently features much rougher, more demanding treatment than she gets from her more malleable slave. So I went at her with my mouth with  a pace and tenacity that was closer to ferocious than tender. I pulled her clit and lips hard and from side to side with my lips and teeth.

Soon Mistress was squirming and moaning and coming. And then coming again. It was a worship-palooza.

Experiment is the mother of invention. I need to file that technique  away for further adventures.

After Mistress came back to  earth, she relaxed her thighs, which had a death grip on my head for that 3^rd orgasm. I moved back a bit and captured the view of her cleanly shaven pussy spread wide and open for me, still dripping from a combination of our juices.

“Nice view, Mistress. Maybe we should take a picture for M.”

She seemed to think that was a good idea.

So I used her I-phone to snap a few. She picked the most alluring one and texted it off to him with the caption “Slave’s eye view.”

We wanted to make sure he knew we had both followed his directions.