Petulant Sex

It’s Saturday morning, and I could just cut to the chase: Yes, we had sex three times yesterday: morning, après-work, and before bed time. Yes, Mistress had a few stray orgasms in between. And it seems that M got off too. ‘Nuff said?

But I suspect you want more of the sordid details.

That morning sex has faded into the background by now.

Mistress read the blog. I worshipped. And then I was more than happy to take my pleasure from her after my St. Pat’s Day Equinox celebration pulled me up short the evening before. 24 hours is a long time to go in the Collins Household.

As our Friday workday ended, I waited for Mistress to walk over to my building for our drive home. As she strode into my lobby, all hot and provocative in that black mid-thigh dress, she had her cell phone to her ear. That big, flirtatious smile (yes, that seems to happen even when her lover/master is so many miles away) was the “tell” that Mistress was on the phone with M.

Once they had signed off, Mistress shared a little detail of her day:

“M and I talked this morning for a while, Slave. And he was home alone so …. You know….”

“You got to talk him through getting off, Mistress?”

“Yeah….”

“How does that work …. You’re in your office ….”

“Right….”

But Mistress’s office has glass windows facing out, so no personal hanky panky there.

“Didn’t you want to touch yourself, Mistress?”

“I suppose so….”

“And could you at least squeeze those thighs … cross the legs?”

“I guess I did, Slave.”

“It turns you on when he comes, doesn’t it Mistress?”

“Of course, Slave.”

I imagined B’s moans of ecstasy as he deploys that high priced lube to full advantage, listening to Mistress’s admonitions, and expressions of…..whatever.

“So what do you tell him to drive him crazy at those moments, Mistress …. You must have some magic words that help him achieve his goal.”

“Hmmmm…..that’s kind of private, Slave.”

I understood. And did not feel right to pry further. They are entitled to that little private zone to allow their relationship to flourish.

On the rest of the ride we got distracted by re-hashing some unpleasant developments during the day. They aren’t worth elaborating on, but they had the unfortunate effect of unearthing some bad karma, and the latent insecurity that pops up from time to time for Mistress.

Of course, me being her Slave, signing the Contract, yadda, yadda, all is supposed to make her feel more secure in our relationship. I have turned over the short leash to her for a purpose. But sometimes, even that’s not enough.

So when we got home, things were a little …..tense.

Mistress even had to remind me that I should offer to worship her before our long bike ride.

Bad Slave.

But soon I was on my knees and gave Mistress the orgasm she probably had been waiting for ever since she had to “suffer” through M’s mighty blast that morning without her own relief.

After our bike ride, the plan was to have sex, then a little picnic while watching some mind numbing movie on netflix.

I opted for a shower, and when I got out, all clean and nakey, Mistress was lying on bed, laptop open, still fully dressed in those damp riding shorts and shirt.

Hmmmm. Still pissed at me?

Now there were two ways this could go. I could get my back up, and we could descend into a grumpy evening.

Or I could suck it up and show my devotion.

Thankfully, I opted for the later (or, as I am sure you guessed, the box score above would read quite differently).

My approach was not subtle.

Mistress lay there, stoic, doing her best to ignore me. I lay next to her, naked. My hand slipped under the waistband of her tight, sweaty riding shorts. My fingers did what they are trained to do.

It took a while to break Mistress’s mental reservations, but soon, inevitably Mistress was squirming, shaking, coming for me.

“Would you like to take your cloths off now, Mistress?”

She muttered consent, and slid out of her shorts, top and sports bra. Then she lay back on the bed.

Ahhh. I saw where this was going. Mistress was not going to lower herself to any cock touching on this occasion. If Slave wanted to fuck her, he would have to get “up” on his own. And there is the “no touching” rule to consider.

So I cuddled, slid my hands between her now naked legs, and conjured the images that made my cock hard on its own. Mind over Petulance.

Then, after my fingers got her off again, I fucked her. Hard. Long. With great satisfaction.

This seemed to melt the ice a bit, and we dressed and had that picnic.

The movie we selected was “40 Days and 40 Nights” which sought to cast some self-absorbed Gen-Y-er as a sort of contemporary Jesus, simply because he chose to give up sex in San Francisco for Lent. The Horror. But we were just getting to the “good” part, (the temptations ), when Mistress’s phone buzzed.

“It’s M, Slave. He wants to know if we can talk. But I kind of feel bad interrupting our evening….”

My thought was this: I had helped put Mistress in a funk. It would only be right for me to step aside for a while and let M help her get out of it. Plus I knew that Mistress was probably in the mood to vent a bit, and M could provide some helpful therapy, with or without the Hitachi.

“It’s OK, Mistress. He does have that All Access Pass this weekend, what with B out of town. Go for it.”

Mistress clearly thought I had made the right decision (not that it was my decision to make), quickly excusing herself to our Bed Chambers.

I caught up on Stephen Colbert, read the paper, and was starting to drift off, when Mistress came down, that glazed but satisfied look in her eye.

“Why don’t we got to Bed, Slave.”

I guess we would save Jesus’s temptations by all those modern day Mary Magdellon’s in search of a straight guy in SF for later.

As we got ready for bed, I asked Mistress how things had gone.

“How many, Mistress?”

“Two, Slave….just two.”

“Not bad….Mistress.”

“But we did spend some time talking about you. M says I need to exercise a firmer hand when you get testy with me. He says you will respond better if I keep that leash very short.”

I was non-committal. Maybe I was a little petulant myself. It had been a long day.

“That’s always your option, Mistress.”

“He also says I need to use that cage more….so tomorrow, when you go out, you are wearing the cage….”

“Of course, Mistress.”



We slipped into bed. I assumed I had had my quota for the day, and quite frankly, was pretty sleepy. So as Mistress read a bit, I slid up against her (naked of course), closing my eyes.

But something was eating at both of us.

I tried to nod off. So did Mistress, shutting out the light.

But somehow, a few minutes later, she was rolling over on top of me, her pelvis doing that little un-subtle grind against my thigh.

And despite my fatigue, I could feel a response. The tell-tale twitch that starts at the base of my balls. I knew where this was headed, but was unsure exactly how we would get there.

“Are you trying to have sex with me Mistress?”

“It seems that way….. but I am thinking you need to be spanked first.”

Twitch.


Damn.

I said nothing.

“Do you want me to spank you, Slave?”

“Up to you Mistress….”

That seemed to close the deal.

“Well you deserve a spanking, just for that passive aggressive answer, Slave.”

And so Mistress was up, in search of the riding crop, then laying into me. Reminding me that I needed to govern my uppitiness and be sensitive to her latent insecurity. I got some rather painful blows during that lecture. She had me squirming and whining into my pillow.

Ouch.

But then it was over.

“Roll over, Slave.”

I did, exposing a rock hard cock in the process.

“Hmmm…..what have we here.”

She poked it with the tip of the crop, having a bit of fun at my expense. And then it was her hands and soft hot mouth on it, making me beg.

“Wouldn’t you like to ride it Mistress.”

“At some point, Slave….”

More begging ensured, until her own desires seemed to take over.

Soon Mistress was mounting me. I squeezed those full, firm nipples as she ground against me, sliding up and down with surprising vigor after a long day and all those orgasms. Soon that slow deep moan built up inside her and carried her over the edge. Then she rolled off to let me finish the job on top. She generously gave her consent when I begged, “Mistress may I come.”

Afterwards, I asked the obvious question:

“So what started that Mistress?”

“I guess after those sessions with M, I always need my cock.”

I was glad to fill that need.