"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.

Thursday, November 4, 2010

What's Better than"Make-Up" Sex?

Here in the Collins household we are still licking our wounds from a virtual head stomping on election night. After a long campaign, helping some friends run for state and local office, it all came crashing down for them Tuesday night. And we had ring side seats at the scene of the disaster(s).

Of course, losing an election is hardly like a hastily arranged appointment with the guillotine, or being left for dead in a roadside ditch, as political conflict has been resolved in centuries past.

But it can still hurt,

And have consequences.

Fortunately, some are sexual.

Mick and Molly got together in an election season long ago, working together for that short Greek guy who made the mistake of putting on a combat helmet and riding in a tank. With video cameras running.

We discovered something that others have known for as long as there were election (or coup) night parties: politics can be a powerful aphrodisiac.

A win calls for reckless, celebratory carnal excess.

Just ask (if you could) Jack and Marilyn.

A loss calls for reckless, “all is lost so please sooth my pain” carnal excess.

Just ask Bill and Monica.

On election day, after rising at 5 am, I actually slid away from my duties for an hour or so to meet up with Mistress at my office.

I closed the door.  She slid out of her boots and tights long enough for me to kneel before her and suction her little red bud with my lips. Soon she was quaking and softly moaning for me. When she was content, I was rewarded  with a long shoulder rub as my head rested between her thighs..


When she left, I actually crashed on my floor for 30 minutes. The maroon blanket that normally serves rests on her “throne” made a nice pillow. And I was comforted by the scent of her juices it has been marinating in for all these months.

On election night, after absorbing all that  cruel Tea Party kick ass, we got home way late. Numb and in denial, we actually slid into bed and passed out.

But when I woke the need was there. My cock was full and longing to bury itself in Mistress’s comforting folds.

I gave our readers short shrift, returning early to bed to wake Mistress and exchange the comforting fluids that we needed to share.

After nearly 36 hours without release, the explosion was, shall we say, considerable. And Mistress seemed to be particularly pleased as I lavished her cunt with attention from lips and tongue as a prelude.

It was a long day of catch-up and commiseration yesterday. (What do you say to a candidate who thinks overly fatigued donors will respond to a request to help pay off his foolishly incurred debt?) But when I got home, Mistress was clearly in need.

“Time for worship, Slave.”

“Of course, Mistress….”

After dinner, as we sat on the couch, forcing ourselves to watch talking heads itemize the carnage, Mistress had some news.

“Bad news Slave….we can’t drive together tomorrow…. I have a date with M in the morning.”

“Errrr…. That’s OK, Mistress …. I am sure M needs some solace too….”

“And I have rules to follow …. I can cum tonight, but no cumming in the morning….. though you are allowed to tease me.”

“Well then let’s make the most of it, before your embargo begins, Mistress…..”

We soon found ourselves locked away in our chambers.  I was instructed to insert my little white probe…. Mistress wanted a very hard one. Not that it would be a problem.

I lavished Mistress’s cunt with more attention from lips and tongue. She was patient, dragging out her orgasm until she was thrashing about on the bed, forcing me to pin her thighs with my arms as I brought her over the edge.

Then she was toying with my cock, teasing it with those magical fingers, taking me to the very edge before she relented to my pleas to fuck her.

“Yes… Slave,,,, you can fuck me…. But I’m going to ride your cock tonight.”

Oh… and she did. Relentlessly.  With a cold determination to drag as much pleasure from my firm appendage as possible.

Of course I was throwing some fuel on her fire.”

“How does it feel to give up the right to come Mistress….”

“It’s hot, Slave….”

“When he lays down the law, Mistress…. Says you are cut off, does that make your cunt get all wet, Mistress?’

She’s close now. Moaning. Frantic as she rides me.

“Yes, Slave…. It’s kind of humiliating isn’t it….”

I imagine her talking to him in her office, or maybe on her drive home, and her hips getting all twitchy as she contemplates her denial, and what is in store for her when in the morning.

And then she comes crashing down on me, groaning through a mighty one, then abruptly rolling off me, so I can mount her and take my own pleasure.

Which I gladly did, begging, of course, when it was finally time for me to come.

Spent, holding her, I thought we were done. But no….

After all those losses, and contemplating her upcoming embargo, Mistress still needed more.

“I think I want the Hitachi, Slave.   But I’m going to use it on myself while you watch.”

“Are you sure M would approve, Mistress? I mean …. Haven’t you had enough?”

“That’s for me to decide, Slave….”

Mistress is always right.


beingaisha said...

O, i'm so glad youall have the solace of sex in your time of need!


And yes, there's something about being denied orgasm that's incredibly hot!


sin said...

Smiling at the solace of sex.

I agree that denial CAN be hot. But not always...

UCTMW Enterprises Management Team said...

sounds like Mistress's denial did not last long.... will update you all in the morning. Mick.