Mistress Gets Tag Teamed

We had headed home a little early, with the hope of a bike ride. But the cold damp gray weather had returned. I used my still unshaken cold as an excuse.

“It’s 43 degrees, Mistress, and seems even colder. I think I will spare my throat and lungs, but feel free.”

Fortunately, she had the good judgment to join me instead, upstairs for a little pre-dinner rest time. I paged through the Times, she tinkered with her new Kindle, then I asked the question. It was hard not to notice she was down to that black lacy thong and a matching bra.

“Would you like some worship, Mistress?”

It had been since our morning sexual adventures, so I suspected she was in some degree of need.

“I thought you’d never ask, Slave.”

I slid out of bed, about to go to my knees, when the text message chime went off.

“Why don’t you check that for me, Slave.”

I peered at her little screen and chuckled.

“It the WC, Mistress, he says he’s driving home if you want to give him a call.”

He’s back from that little holiday, rested and ready it seems.

“But we’re about to have some worship, Slave….it can wait”

“No reason we can’t kill two birds with the same stone, Mistress.”

She signaled me to hand her the land line phone (yes, we are retro and still have one), and as she dialed him up, I was on my knees, shifting aside the shielding panel of that lovely thong.

Of course, I could only hear part of the conversation.

“So Slave was about to worship, but I thought I would give you a call anyway.”

Her hips shifted a it, allowing me to get a better angle on those clean shaven parts.

“No, it’s no problem, he’s just going ahead as we talk, M.”

As I went to work they chatted a bit about their respective days. Sounds like the WC had some catching up to do at the office, after some “epic” sex with B.

But soon, Mistress seemed a little more focused both on the words M was whispering in her ear, and my suctioning her little bud between my lips.

Her hips were rising to meet my mouth, her words had turned to little murmurs of approval, head thrown back, eyes squeezed shut.

Soon she was writhing about the bed, making it barely possible to keep my oral grip on her…. In fact I think I resorted to holding her hips in place with my hands.

I was now grateful that I had turned on Brian Williams to stifle her cries from the curious ears of the surly teens, just down the hall.

“Wow….. that was good M…. and Slave too.”

They continued to talk, rotating back to the more mundane, our upcoming spring break with the kids, heading not too far from our Western branch office. A point that Mistress was happy to make.

“By tomorrow night we won’t be too far from you, M. It’s a shame you can’t just drop by.”

Of course, Slave ad not been dismissed, so after a brief hiatus, my tongue and lips were re-deployed, a point she mentioned to M.

“He’s still down there, M, working away, like a little suction cup.”

I think M must have gotten the hint, because now Mistress seemed to be more focused again, quietly assenting to whatever little scenario M had cooked up for her.

(Later she told me it involved some cock worship, followed by some nice fucking from behind, across M’s desk. It’s good to know the Branch Office gets put to good alternative use, since we’ve not seen many column inches from there in a while.)

And I refocused my efforts, inspired by Mistress’s sultry murmurs of consent to her own debauchery at the hand of her personal trainer.

Once she had cycled through yet another explosive cum, her foot gently pushed me away. She had enough, at least for now.

I took my place back in bed next to her as they chatted on. While they may have trouble squeezing in a formal training session while we are off on our own ski vacation with the teens, it is good to know that the WC is back at his desk, doing whatever it is that he does, but keeping Mistress entertained in the process.