Mick and Molly made it home early Friday evening from that leafy campus where beer bonging co-eds roam, surly teens in tow.
Mistress was still coming down from her multi-orgasmic morning therapy session with our Western Correspondent. She had this perpetual contented “wht me worry” smile on her face as we toured campus, and indulged in some frozen treats before the ride home. I suspect our female readers know what I am talking about.
But I was feeling a bit unsettled, because I had still only gotten a few of the highlights.
Frustrating.
The odd / wonderful thing about this strange triad that we are nursing along is this: the sharing part seems to pull Molly and mick more closely together, even as molly and M heighten their own intimacy with their calls, emails and texting.
It was still a gorgeous day when we returned home, and I was torn. Do I take up Mistress’s offer to resume this discussion immediately between the sheets, for further “debriefing”, or do we go for that bike ride we had planned while the sun was still up.
“Your choice, Slave.”
It was a particularly “hard” choce, since my cock had been at various stages of alert through the day. There is something about knowing that Mistress has gotten off with another man (or woman) that makes me want to reclaim her delicious engulfing folds as my own.
But I also knew that I needed some exercise after a day spent mostly on my ass. So I compromised.
“Let me worship you Mistress….then a bike ride …. Then sex.”
“Excellent choice, Slave.”
Mistress was already out of that preppy but sexy LaCoste dress, and she stretched laterally across the bed, giving me access to her from my knees. A pillow was tossed onto the floor to cushion my aging knees, and from that position I helped her wriggle out of those tight black panties. I could not keep my mouth away from her any longer.
My muffled “Mmmmm” of appreciation was audible to her, and that made her curious.
“Do I taste like I’ve had sex, Slave?”
“Yes, Mistress”, I managed, as I savored her.
“Explain….”
Rats. Now I had to shift focus from appreciation to articulation.
“Well, it’s those musky flavors from the juices you generate when you are coming, but by now a little stale, a little less sweet, a little saltier, from being cooped up in these panties through a warm afternoon.”
“Go on….”
She seems to like to hear me talk about her various flavors, like the owner of a Baskin and Robbins franchise doing market research.
“It’s not the same has when you came home from having sex with the other M ….then I could taste someone else down here too. You had been used by him. Maybe it was my imagination, but I could smell and taste both of you.”
“Did you like that, Slave?”
“Well … as you know, it sure turned me on, Mistress.”
She laid back, curiosity satisfied for the time being.
And soon I was suctioning her well used clit between my lips and teeth, pulling it from side to side, urged on by the embrace of her strong thighs gripping my head.
Her moans as she came may not have been the same quality as those earlier in the day, when she used the Hitachi on herself at M’s direction, but I felt that my little weekend reclamation project was off to a good start.
And when I stood to retrieve my riding shorts, Mistress could not help notice that My physical reaction to the chance to worship her was ….. obvious.
“Oh my, Slave…..stay there a moment.”
I really did not need this, not if we wanted to ride.
She approached me, her hand cupping my balls, her fingers sliding the length of my protruding appendage, making little sounds of appreciation.
“I’ve been wanting this cock ever since M was done with me Slave.”
My will to ride was quickly crumbling. My knees – literally – grew weak as she played with me, leaning in for a kiss.
“Poor Slave…..don’t worry. We’ll take care of this after our ride….”
The thought of that moment, when Mistress had me in the palm of my hand, makes me twitch and grow here as I type at our kitchen counter.
Double argh.
But the ride was worth it, and we both felt recharged and ready when we got back, explaining to the teen still at home that we would be “resting” for a while.
It was as we were fucking, me on top, pumping into Mistress, hearing all those lovely sounds, that I finally got to hear more of the details of her morning.
“So what was he telling you, Mistress that made you so crazy?”
“Another one of his fantasies about us, Slave.”
“You know I like to hear those”.
I had her arms pinned above her head, my finger toyed with her clit, as my cock pressed into her…Now that I was fucking her, there was no rush to finish the job until I heard all the smutty details.
“He had me on a leash. We were going to an S and M party in his hometown.”
I imagined lots of black cowboy hats.
“He always adds lots of interesting details … like what I am wearing.”
“And how did he outfit you, Mistress?”
“Lots of black leather, but lots of skin showing too.”
“I bet you’d like that, Mistress….”
She’s moaning now, and I know having to recount the story has gotten M back in the picture. But so what if she’s thinking of his cock inside her rather than mine. It adds to the moment, doesn’t it? Makes her buck even harder as I continue to take her.
“There was a spanking bench ….and he tied me to it.”
“Were people watching, Mistress?”
“Yeah. He likes the idea of people watching him use that cock on me.”
“And that gets you going too, doesn’t it Mistress.”
“Uhhhhmmmmmm ….it does….Slave.”
Mistress is getting close ….again.”
“Did he give you the spanking that you deserved, Mistress.”
“Yes…..”
“You know you are getting it from me Sunday, don’t you, Mistress.”
“Yes, I know…..”
“And afterwards….how did he fuck you, Mistress.”
“From behind, still tied to that bench….”
Mistress eyes are squeezed tight, she’s there with him, and here, with me. She’s got the two of us bringing her back to the brink.
“And there’s someone else – someone’s Slave – I’m sucking his cock while M’s fucking me….”
And by now I’m wondering if Mistress imagines my work-a-day cock in the cameo role of filling her mouth as M takes my needy and greedy Mistress from behind.
But at about this point the thread of the narrative got hopelessly lost.
Because Mistress was coming with a long moan one more time as I pumped into her. And then I was begging for permission to come too. I must confess that by the time my mind had me begging, my cock was far too gone to have stopped if permission was withheld even for a moment.
Fortunately, Mistress was very indulgent.
And now I am wondering if I need to go back and get her to finish that story.
3 comments:
first, wicked hawt pic of the mistress...white never looked so good!
i loved this...the what did you call it? sexergystic mingling certain came to fulfillment inyour bedchambers.
enjoy switch day!
hugs,
nilla
Mick, it's very interesting to me that you say that you felt unsettled and frustrated because you hadn't heard the details of Molly and M. It seems like hearing the details was hot and made things right for you.
(Btw, I posted a comment back on the Memo to the Western Correspondent piece. I don't know how far back you check.)
sin
Thanks, just caught that comment, sin and made a response.
And you are right, I was anxious to hear the details. the sharing definitely gets us both amped up. crazy, huh?
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