Merry Christmas!

Swing clubs and cowboys and farmers, oh my!

This past Saturday night my Master and i were thrilled to be entertaining a special visitor, the fun and fabulous Rita Seagrave. We first met Rita at Beat Me in St. Louis in the spring, and through a series of favorable coincidences, her visit to a location near me coincided with my Master’s visit, and a plot was hatched.

We met up Saturday evening and checked into our hotel, then went out for a nice dinner and got reacquainted. Then it was time to head off on our adventure for the evening… a visit to a swing club. This particular club alternates Saturday nights between BDSM and swing events. We would have rather gone to the BDSM night, but this was the weekend we had available, and we figured it would be a fun adventure.

Rita’s twitter from the following day summed it up the best, i think:
“Fantastic night with longdistancesub and her man. She and I wore matching red pumps! We visited a swing club populated by farmers + cowboys.”

Our matching red pumps did garner quite a few comments.[1]  And our two on one lap dance of my Master (which started with us crawling across the floor towards Him) got some attention too. Then the three of us ended up on a couch off to one side of the main space. Most of the action at this club happened in a big really-sleazy-but-in-a-good-way room with a bunch of mattresses on the floor, but my Master likes couches, so that’s where we camped out.

We hadn’t really talked beforehand about what the plans for the evening were – we were all still just feeling each other out, i think. And while my Master and i have been a bit smitten with Rita from the time we first met her, we have almost zero experience playing with other people, and we were both a bit nervous and unsure of where the limits were.

But we managed to figure something out, at least judging from my Master’s moans of “oh my god” when we were both sucking His nipples, or later, when each of us was licking one side of the head of His cock or taking turns sucking Him. And feeling Rita come as i rubbed her clit through lacy panties, and then watching her quiver through a continuous series of orgasms as i slowly fucked her with the glass wand until she begged me to stop. Then my Master fucking me as i was draped across her lap, sucking her nipples. Or my own orgasm, with her hands on my breasts while i rubbed my clit and my Master fucked me with my big purple dildo until i begged Him for permission to come and shouted my orgasm for all to hear.

My, my, that was a lot of fun.

i don’t know that i’d go back for another swing night. Rita says she’d go back for the cowboys, but the crowd wasn’t really our crowd – although it was a particularly quiet night, probably thanks to the weather, with just enough snow to make going out possible but not necessarily appealing. But the space is definitely interesting, and i hope we can make it back for a BDSM night, which i think would be even more fun.

After my Master folded me in half and fucked me until He came, we all agreed that we’d had enough, said good night to our host, and piled back into my car for the snowy trip back to our hotel rooms. We were tired and needed to rest up, because the next morning was the photo shoot my Master and Rita had been planning, and for which we’d purchased her 3 brand new pairs of shoes. Hmmm… i wonder what those could possibly be used for?

[1] Basic red stilettos, not the stunning pair of Dolce & Gabbana’s in the picture above. Deemed too impractical, they’re going back. So sad.

My Master’s Face

While not our shortest visit ever (that honor goes to a 6-hour airport hotel rendezvous from very early on in our exploration of D/s), this one was certainly one of the most extravagant, what with me flying 2000 miles to spend a mere 18 hours (8 of them spent sleeping) with my Master before flying 2000 miles home again. Made even more extravagant by the fact that it came just 3 days before our previously-scheduled visit this upcoming weekend.

But, as i wrote in my last post, it’s been a long 7.5 weeks, and we both decided that getting to see each other 3 days earlier was worth the hassle and expense.

And if i’d had any doubts about it, they were completely obliterated when i looked at my Master’s face.

Our schedules had aligned to allow for the setup He prefers, which meant that i was at the hotel before Him, unpacked and dressed to his specifications, and waiting in the corner when He arrived. He took His time, attending to this and that in the room, coming over occasionally to stroke my ass or put his hand between my legs. At long last He settled onto the couch next to where i was standing, and ordered me to turn towards Him. From His perspective, i think He was merely inspecting His property, but for me, it was my chance to finally set my eyes on Him.

i know what my Master looks like – i have His picture on the desktop at work, for instance. i can call His image to mind instantly. But when i turned to looked at Him, it was a visual feast after 7.5 weeks of famine, and it instantly made me heart sing. And even though i always feel like i should be serious in these moments, i couldn’t stop a huge smile from lighting up my face as i drank Him in with my eyes.

Eventually (and not nearly as quickly as i would have liked, but my Master likes to take these things slowly), i got to touch Him, and to taste Him, and to give Him my mouth and my hands and my cunt. But when i burst into tears as He collapsed on top of me following His orgasm, it was the love i’d felt when i looked at His face, at His eyes, that was all that i could think of and all that i could feel.

Feeling the anticipation

Written last night, counting down to our visit which starts tomorrow:

It’s 2 nights until i see You, and i’m just so excited. My heart pitter-patters every time i think about how soon it is, and how much i need and want to be with You. It’s been a long several weeks, and i’ve missed You so much.

(It’s been over 7 weeks since  i saw my Master last. We’d been very lucky over the summer to see each other a lot, so this 7 week stint has been really hard for both of us. But by this time tomorrow i will finally be with Him again. And will have been thoroughly fucked. Probably twice.)

[e]lust #3

Welcome to e[lust] - your source for sexual intelligence and inspirations of lust from the smartest & sexiest bloggers! Whether you’re looking for hot steamy smut, thought-provoking opinions or expert information, you’re going to find it here. Want to be included in the next edition? Start with the rules, check out the schedule in the site’s sidebar and subscribe to the RSS feed for updates!

♦ This Week’s Top Three Posts ♦

Presence – I wish that you would look at me now. I am willing you to look at me now, over her body, rocking with the motion of her mouth. But you do not.

Restraint – “Do you like what you see?” the blonde asks. “Are you excited by what’s before you?” the redhead enquires. He nods.

What Not to Fetishwear – DON’T wear a PVC sleeveless vest if you fall into the rotund category. You will look like a bowling ball. With chubby arms.

♦ e[lust] Editress♦

Fucking for Art – The proximity of their nakedness and my scrutiny resulted in this beautiful agony of arousal for them both. I asked if they would feel comfortable doing some poses of vaginal penetration for me, and they readily agreed.

♦ Featured Post ♦

The Naked Truth – He didn’t just write a pretty story we could act out, he worked hard to delicately lay us out on the page together, as we are.

See also: Pleasurists #56 and #57 for all your sex toy review needs

All blogs that have a submission in this edition must re-post this digest from tip-to-toe on their blogs within 7 days. Re-posting the photo is optional and the use of the “read more…” tag is allowable after this point. Thank you, and enjoy!

Sex News, Interviews, Politics & Humor

Tricky Balls
Propaganda Sucks in All Directions
Wicked Grounds
Which Reindeer Sex Style Are You?
Five Tuesday: 2010 AVN Award Nominees

Kink & Fetish

Come what may..
While I waited
Caning Before the Movies
Say…
Savoring Submission
The Ruler
Give In
Flagging brown
The Mummy Returns
Finding Power Through Play
Marked
Microfantasy Monday 24

Thoughts & Advice on Sex & Relationships

Spanksgiving
Wife Unsure About Sex With Others
Morning
Thought Provoked
December: Month of the Rant
Less is More
That’s My Cervix!
Femme Invisibility
Are You Just Kinky or Is It a Lifestyle
Baby Steps and Giant Leaps
Cyber Sex

Erotic Writing

Friends with Benefits
Prolific
The Tease
Cock. Confession #386
Shower
Cal’s wisdom
Blinded and Bound
The Little Things…
lust
The Witness
Quiet and Still
Giving and Receiving
Beasts in the Bathroom
Fixation: Touch
The Pussy Eating Challenge
An Oceans Release part 1
MFM: Etiquette
Office Party
Daydreams & Distractions Droit de Cuissage
Tant pis
Toys, toys, toys
Revenge (Pt. 1)
Gush
Claiming: Assume the Position

Lacy

Lots more pictures from this set on Flickr.

Room with a View

Rock and Republic black patent and woven ‘Kai’ peep toe slingbacks
(we thought really hard about keeping them, but ended up sending them back)

Office Party

The office holiday party is always a really strange experience for me. For one thing, I get to wear clothes – that’s a real novelty, and completely unheard of except for that one time I swapped with Jenny. Tonight i’d chosen slinky black backless dress and a pair of Betsey Johnson party shoes in black and gold.

And then there are the clients, some of who receive our “special services,” but many who do not. And lastly, there are the wives. Who most certainly do not know about the unique perks that keep their husbands happily working overtime.

But it’s a good time nonetheless, and with copious food and wine flowing, if someone grabs the administrative assistant’s ass, well… it’s just a holiday office party and isn’t that practically de rigueur?

This year’s party was in full swing when I decided I needed a break from the action. The cool air of the hallway was a welcome relief from the steamy room filled with alcoholic breath and sweaty hands slipping where they shouldn’t. And once I got down to the executive wing, even the sounds of the party had slipped away.

Which is why I was able to hear her. Some quiet sniffles, a blowing nose, the soft sound of tears held inside but threatening to slip out.

I poked my head into the little conference room, and there was Peterson’s wife, sitting in the high back roller chair at the head of the table, try unsuccessfully not to cry.

I’m really not so good with the gal pal thing, so I quickly turned to leave, only to be betrayed by that damn jingle bell bracelet one of our clients had been passing out as party favors.

“Lyn, is that you?”

I went back into the conference room. “Yes, Mrs. Peterson,” I answered. And then, because it seemed the thing to do, “Is everything okay?”

Well, of course everything was not okay. Turns out she’d caught Mr. Peterson in a clutch with that “hussy” Jenny (i had to stifle a snicker at that), and she was pissed about it.

“I don’t know what he sees in that little tramp,” she said tipsily. “Especially when he’s got *these* waiting for him at home.” And with that, she pulled down the front of her (already low cut) dress to reveal those delightfully perky tits that I’d fantasized about many a time while blowing her husband.

“Very impressive indeed,” I agreed. “But why don’t you put them away and I’ll help you get back to the party?”

She was having none of it. “They’re all natural, you know. Still look as good as they did when I was 20. And they feel fantastic – c’mere Lyn, come see what I mean.”

I looked down the empty hallway, then back at Mrs. Peterson. And then I did just what you’d expect the office slut to do – I went over to other side of the conference table and put my hands on her glorious breasts.

She was right – they did feel fantastic. A generous handful, but not too much. The perfect balance of soft and firm. At first my touch was tentative (I was *trying* to be good!), but when she reached up and put her hand over mine, squeezing them around her breasts, I gave up and just went with it.

Her generous nipples grew hard in my palms, and as her hands released mine, I slid my fingers down to stroke them. Tentatively at first, in case she was going to freak out, but no, she tilted her head back and moaned, clearly enjoying the attention. I couldn’t help but wonder if they tasted as good as the looked, so – throwing caution to the wind – I took one in my mouth.

Her hand on the back of my head, pushing me into her chest, told me that she had no objections to this next step. “Harder,” she moaned. “Suck them hard, Lyn.”

After that, I didn’t worry about any more caution, and didn’t need any more prompting either. After I’d paid her breasts their due attention (and believe me, they really did deserve some attention), I slipped one hand up under her short skirt. Her legs spread eagerly apart for me, and I wasn’t surprised to discover that she wasn’t wearing any panties with her garter belt and stockings. Her cunt was already wet as I slipped one, then two, and finally three fingers inside of her.

Unsatisfied with my position, I slid my fingers out. She groaned in frustration, but as I motioned her up on the conference table she got the picture. On top of the table (where I had been too many times to count) I was able to get my fingers really working inside of her, and to get my mouth down on her clit at the same time.

Sweet, salty, and tangy, her copious juices filled my mouth as I licked her cunt and fingered her. Her moans and panting breath filled my ears, growing faster and more guttural as she reached the edge and then fell over it, her orgasm wetting my hand even more. I paused for only a moment to let her catch her breath, then kept going until she had a second climax, and then a third.

“Enough, enough!” she panted, pushing herself back away my hand, leaving a puddle of cunt juices on the table where she had been.

I gave her a minute to collect herself, and she slowly climbed off the table. I was sad to see her spectacular breasts confined to her bodice once again as she straightened herself out.

She pushed me up against the wall, and leaned in very close to my face. “Thank you, Lyn,” she said, and kissed me tenderly on the lips. Then she darted off, blond hair swinging as she flipped her head back at me from the door. “That’ll show him,” she said, smugly, “that two can play at that game.”

I let her go down the hall, waiting a full two or three minutes before I headed back to the party myself. When I got there, she had just finished downing a glass of champagne and was heading over for a refill. Peterson was on the other side of the room, in the middle of a vigorous debate with the other partners about football or something equally as trivial.

“Peterson,” I said, swinging my hand over his shoulder and resting it on his cheek, “I think your wife’s had a few too many – you might want to take her home.”

He looked at me, with a curious look in his eyes. The look of a man who’s trying to decide if that’s really the smell of his wife’s cunt on the hand resting on his face.

“Thank you, Lyn,” he replied. “I think I will do just that.”

Leather and lace

Anticipation

As soon as my Master sent me a link the image below, i knew it was only a matter of time before He was going to have me order one. And then, just a matter of time before our next visit and i would be wearing it.

i was right, of course, and the shoe gag now sits in my bedside table, waiting the three weeks until i’ll be seeing Him next. In the meantime, He’s instructed me to write about my thoughts about it.

From the first time He sent it to me i’ve gotten pretty turned on thinking about it. Mostly because it’s just such a perfect fantasy fulfillment device for Him, and i know it’s going to make Him so hot and so happy to see me like that. That desire to please Him combines with my own feelings, which are, shall we say, less enthusiastic. i don’t like gags. They make my jaw sore, and i really can’t stand the way they make me drool – it’s so gross! Plus, i know that we have another D/s event coming up in a few months, and given His love of exposing me in different ways, i suspect i’ll be making an appearance in public wearing this. Which will be embarrassing and humiliating.

But in that strange way that D/s works, the equation “desire to please” plus “dread, angst, and fear of humiliation” equals really hot. So every time i think about that thing, i get butterflies in my stomach and wet in my cunt. Which is, of course, exactly what my Master would like of me, so i expect He’s pretty pleased right now.