Lunches with the exes
The last few weeks have been soo … emotionally dramatic. I keep trying to blog about them and ending up with these long messes that don’t even make sense to me. I’ve done a lot of personal introspection and that’s too hard to blog about for now, I’m still distilling. And of course, as always happens when I try and move on, purge and renew, some of my exes made appearances.
When things ended/but didn’t end with p., I was planning a final trip to see him before he moved to MA. We’d been talking about it on and off for a long time. He’d promised specifically, not to cancell last minute, or make up excuses; just to let things happen. I had arranged my daughter’s yearly visit with her grandparents to coincide with the two weeks before he moved. He knew, within a few day period with allowances for his work time, when I was arriving- I chose not to share my specific arrival because of his past cancellations …always the night before I was to come. I made the mistake of talking to him online within that time period and he went from being so excited he couldn’t contain himself to using the safewords I’d given him to totally end the relationship in about 3 minutes. (of course the next week he was back apologizing, rinse, repeat)
Yes. I have spent yet another of my yearly breaks at home. Instead of doing what I’d planned to do with and to p.. But this post isn’t about him, since I’m not posting about him anymore (right- you are welcome to all roll your eyes at this point). The explanation was just necessary to set up why and how that led to boredom and something bad…. A moment of weakness.
For those of you who may remember I started my foot fetish work and immediately got a request for an appointment from L.; who then didn’t stop emailing me until I had to say something nasty to him. He later replied that he totally understood and apologized. You may also remember that he had a bracelet I’d left with him in a previous moment of weakness a few years ago, when I realized what a bad idea it had been and tried to sneak out while he was asleep. It was from my grandmother’s estate and he knew this; but didn’t know it had never been worn and had spent 40 years in a closet- it had no real value, sentimental or otherwise. We’d gotten into a nasty fight not long after that unsuccessful sneaking out, and I’d told him to keep it in an effort to make a clean break. Being very sentimental, he wouldn’t let it die and kept using it as a means to keep contact with me until I’d been successful in losing his efforts to find me. Until, that is, the foot fetish site. Anyway. Back to the moment of weakness. I emailed him to see if he wanted to go to lunch. I’d been introspective and hoped he had reached a stable enough mental point that I could ask him some questions, seek some closure for myself. I wanted to get back the bracelet and remove any further reason to keep contact with me. And if I am honest with myself, was really really horny AND wanted to tie him up tight and enjoy myself with him one last time before asking him those questions. I know. Bad idea.
He accepted my invitation as quickly as I knew he would. He told me he’d just been laid off again (had lost his job not long after we broke up), and was still fighting his depression and anxiety, starting a new medication that weekend. I decided to assess the situation over lunch before involving ropes…I’d already offered and had it accepted. I wore strappy sandals and his favorite color of polish, but tried to not dress up too much- just a white summer skirt and tee-shirt. We met and it was clear he’d been crying. Hugged and …whew. That was hard for both of us. We spent almost five hours sitting there catching up, flirting and making our old private jokes like it hadn’t been four years, but tiptoeing around it. Bittersweet. His hands shook, and there were moments I thought he might break down…and we weren’t talking about anything too deep. I’d mention my daughter or his favorite cat, and he’d tear up. It was sad and hard to watch. It was clear he wasn’t ready for my questions. To hear them or to answer them. By the time I decided that, he had mentioned my shoes and polish a few times. I mentioned that we’d been there a bit long and said we should go somewhere else; he said he had to go feed an out of town friend’s animals. Puhleease. He went for an opening just as he walked me to the car. I got in and he held the door open. He mentioned the shoes again and then asked if I was wearing panties. I responded by telling him he might find out but then there were those poor unfed pets. His posture changed, he patted me on the back goodbye, and shut the door. Whew. Crisis averted. Oh yeah, I did get my bracelet.
Back when sparky and I ended things, I realized I’d left my favorite silver hoops on his headboard and emailed him a few days after that last dinner to ask him about them. He had them but was leaving for vacation; asked me to lunch when he returned. We finally made plans earlier this week for lunch yesterday. I told him to call me Thursday to set a time. He did and talked to me for an hour and twenty minutes. I did a lot of the talking but he actually asked me questions. This is something he didn’t do much of when we were dating. We got into a discussion about chastity and he got all hot and bothered. I knew because his voice changes and he gets all breathy when he has a hard on. Before going to bed later Thursday night I checked my profile for the maid position to reply to some responders, and saw that sparky had been by my profile. Hrrmm. We met at a closeby mexican restaurant; I had been stuck in traffic so he was there ahead of me. And had obviously seated himself so that I could face the door- he does read this blog. He had also taken the liberty of ordering me tea. I don’t really like restaurant tea, but it was a very nice gesture. We had a nice lunch, caught up on things. It seemed like he wanted to say or ask something but was having a hard time doing so. We were talking about one of my brothers, the golden child; whose super power is luck and who is also a bit holier than thou. I told sparky that when he gets too big for his britches I just ‘accidentally’ send him a link to thinks like penis sounds. That led to sparky telling me more about his kind experiences and feelings about it than I could get out of him in nine months of having him in my bed. I’m beginning to think it’s this restaurant- it’s the same one he brought his CBT to to have me lock him up at. After about two hours I had to be rather direct about ending the lunch and told him I’d meet him outside, where I had one of his sweatshirts in my car. He went to the men’s room, I sat on the bench outside for a smoke and picked up the Chronicle for a quick read of the letters to the editor. He snuck up and sat down close next to me looking like he was about to spit it out.
“Yes?” I turned to him.
He stomped his foot slightly and pursed his lips. “It was nice talking with you last night”
And then he quickly kissed me on the lips. I told him that I agreed and he could call anytime he felt like it. It was nice. Just nice. I walked him to my car to get his shirt, we joked a bit about him wearing it in the 100 degree heat, he said it again.
“It was really nice having lunch with you”
“Yes. We can do it again.”
Another kiss. I told him goodbye and drove off.
So um. Yeah. That’s my tale of luches with the exes. One moment of weakness averted, one revealed.
(I will try and be nice and go through and cross link all the old posts this one refers to sometime soon for you newer readers- but you can always use the search function at the bottom of the page.)
an uneventful ending
“This is not how I planned the evening to go”
sparky said awkardly
I don’t remember what I said. I was thinking about the $250 worth of toys I just ordered and wishing for a teleporation device so neither of us had to bear the 20 minute drive home.
Lately things with sparky and I have been even more un-sparky than before. In part because I’ve had some serious stomach issues each time we’ve gone out/spent the evening together; more likely than not my body telling me it was time for things to end. In part because we’ve only had one evening a week or less together for months; no time to get comfortable or do more than cursory catching up. In larger part because we both knew things weren’t going anywhere.
I’d been thinking about my involvement with sparky already. I knew that if we were to continue, I would need to engage in much more BDSM with him, begin actual training, and set some boundaries and rules for the relationship. No, I hadn’t done this yet; sparky kept his level of interest in various play fairly secret and expressed his personal independence up front, and a desire to be only a submissive boyfriend. And in the nine months we’ve seen each other never really did open up to me emotionally; I saw no need to begin pushing boundaries when we couldn’t even communicate about basics, much less what the boundaries were. And of course, the matter of p. fell into the mix. We’ve not talked for some time…he’s moving far away shortly and doing his best to get me out of his mind. I’m unable to afford to visit Dallas; my vehicle is in poor shape. And I’ve pretty much issued the ultimatum that when he is ready he will come to me. And he will, eventually. Neither of us can really enter the kind of relationship we want with each other, right now, regardless of my relationship status with sparky.
So I had resolved to reframe my relationship with sparky, who had at least revealed an interest in cuckoldry and more formal D/s arrangements than the casual dating with some kink play that had evolved with us. My plan was to offer him a chance to explore cuckoldry as less of a romantic arrangement than we’d originally embarked upon and more as a sub in training. Having finally found the strap-on harness I wanted, I set aside my original plan to save up for it and purchased it last week, hoping for a weekend arrival to surprise sparky with. While shopping for the tool to go in it, I found an amazing sale and for the price of a dong elsewhere, purchased a whole 5 lb. box worth of sex and kink toys.
We each had a busy week. I’d planned to talk with him about it last weekend when I stayed over at his place; but had serious stomach cramps and ended up curled in the fetal position, clammy and groaning most of the night. This week we only had Thursday to spend together between kid and business obligations, and had planned early in the week to go to a monthly downtown event ‘First Thursdays’- an artsy, walk around and look at expensive stuff you can’t buy, and drink free beer while listening to live music sort of affair. Wednesday, sparky told me he’d be working until 6, so I could expect him around 6:30. By the time 6:30 arrived Thursday the wind was gusting up to 40 mph; and I had decided it wasn’t the best venue for the night or for discussing my plans. I had (I mentioned earlier) purchased new cock collars of the sort that work with my short lead, and had also purchased charms for them; sparky had gotten all breathy and hot when I’d told him about donning his member with a silver, heavy charm with my initial on it, so I had one ready to go on my dressing table. My plan was to have him come to my bedroom before we went out, have him strip and kneel to hear my change of venue plans and why, and put him in the leather chastity belt and the red cock collar with my initial before heading out.
6:30 came and went…I wasn’t too upset because with Austin traffic one has to be lenient, I knew he’d be there in the next 15 minutes and had told him once before that “give or take 15 minutes” was an appropriate window for arriving. By 7pm I WAS upset; particularly when he called at 7:07 to say he was just leaving the office….his voice told me he knew. This isn’t like him, sparky always calls on time and if he’s going to be late, and I had a feeling something was up. When he arrived he was more nervous and distracted than usual; I had him pour me some wine and come upstairs. His demeanor was different and I sensed that it wasn’t the time for my plan; he mentioned the wind and I told him I’d rather not go to the outdoor event. He sat on the bed and sheepishly told me he was going to have to leave town with his kid the next morning and would have to go home and pack rather than stay over. No explanation of his late arrival. It was already almost 8pm. No chastity devices or long night of ‘re-framing’. We opted for a nearby restaurant and a low key evening.
Dinner was nice and we talked about you know, just things; work and future plans and the kids. I ordered desert. When I said he seemed particularly distracted and stressed, he confirmed that he was; with lots of business changes and family matters going on, I knew his mind had been a million different places lately. I asked him if I’d given him the impression that I didn’t care if he was on time in his plans with me; and he said no but then gave a terrible excuse when I asked why he was so late that evening. Then he reached out and grabbed my hand and made a grimmace. sparky hasn’t been very affectionate with me, he doesn’t touch me uninvited…and I wasn’t sure which way this was going to go.
“Another thing is … I’ve been reading your blog, you know. I know what’s been going on and what you’ve been thinking about”
Awkward silence. I knew he knew, he knew I knew he knew.
“and I’ve been thinking a lot about how neither of us seem to be finding that um….connection”
He’d let go of my hands and was now half fidgeting, half gesturing, looking down, stammering. I probably let him go on a little long but I was hoping for a complete sentence and fully formed thought that would tell me what he was trying to say.
“So what I hear you saying is that you think we should stop seeing each other.”
I replied calmly.
sparky looked a little…I don’t know. Surprised? Maybe disappointed? Anyway, I don’t think that was the reaction he expected.
“Well, maybe just re-evaluate things”
The desert arrived. Really yummy looking bread pudding. I love bread pudding. I wanted immediately to be home in my jammies curled up in bed eating that bread pudding.
No, I told him, I thought he was right. Neither of us were feeling a real connection and we both deserve that. We’ve given it more than a fair shot and it’s better to end things on a good note, now; than let it drag on and end poorly. I’m not sure he looked me in the eye after that. He started to assure me that I had been clear up front about p., and it wasn’t that- which he repeated several times; that I was an amazing woman and he still wanted to be friends. I did my best to not cringe and roll my eyes. It’s true, I would like to remain friends with sparky; he’s very nice and we get along. It just….would have been better to not say. The foot fetish work was never brought up but I suspect it had a role in bringing things to an anti-climactic head.
He drove me home and I remembered I had the keys to his CBT lock. I’m pretty sure he wanted to just drop me at the curb, I know I’d have preferred that too. The hand off was awkward, and we sealed things with a hug.
I think it was the most unemotional, uneventful, spark-less breakup I’ve ever had. Now that I think about it, also the most unemotional, uneventful, spark-less relationship I’ve ever had.
That’s not terrible. I think both sparky and I needed someone to spend time with helping each other ‘get back on the bike’ so to speak. I enjoyed our dates. The sex was nice. And so was the hitting him with things. But I’m glad for both of us that it’s time to move on….I really miss passion, I’m sure he did too….we both deserve to have it and shouldn’t keep each other from that.
And, there’s nothing like a shipment of five pounds worth of toys arriving (and the resulting debit from my bank account), to motivate me to update that dating profile and look into some quick car repairs…
And now for something completely different. Cuckold shoe shopping. Part I.
I know it’s been a little heavy ’round here as of late. By now you must know that I’m not a real exciting blog, more of a dance with my internal demons for your enjoyment. But occasionally I can put out some hot literotica like the rest of you. Thought I should probably lighten things up with some today. This is a story that is historical fiction in the life of Ms. R and L. ; some of it happened, some of it was chickened out on by participants, some of it is embellishment. I’ll let you guess which is which.
~
I drove home from work late that afternoon, steaming. It was Texas summer hot, and the silk stockings I’d worn were soaked in sweat. My last pair. Earlier, after seeing a client downtown, I’d had to run some vanilla errands at the courthouse, which meant parking and walking a few miles. I found a space just a block away, crossed the street and accidentally stepped in some overheated (melted- it does that here) asphalt tar, ruining the red Italian leather peep-toe sling-backs which were my favorite- and most expensive- pair of shoes. The traffic ahead of me was slower than normal and I watched the outside temperature gauge rise past 110. The radio traffic report was bad news: an overturned tanker. I flipped open the cell and called L., who had been blissfully laying around at my place for days.
“Listen close. When I get home, you will have me a bath ready. You will be prepared for a very nice evening out. You will make reservations. You will get my new dress out for me. And you will be ready for me when I get there. Do you hear me?”
He knew how to answer.
“Yes Ma’am“
I got home and he met me at the door, naked. I handed him my load of paperwork and purse and took the glass of my favorite white wine, Caymus Connundrum, he had in his hand. I kicked off my ruined shoes and began peeling off my stockings as I led towards the bathroom, leaving a trail of clothing behind me. I turned around to tell him to hurry up, only to catch him picking up the stockings and sniffing them and touching himself furtively, having left my papers in a pile on the floor. He caught my glare and dropped to his knees before I got to him, and grabbed a handful of hair.
“You’ve had all day to do that. Pick up this mess and meet me in the bathroom. Everything had better be ready.”
It was. My bath was drawn, steaming hot. The sandalwood candles I liked best were lit. Towels were waiting on the counter. I sat on the edge of the tub and waited for L.; I didn’t want to soil my bathwater with my sweaty feet. As he crawled around the corner I raised one foot, and he almost instinctively began licking it, mouthing every surface gently, sucking it clean. I let him finish and offered the other, telling him to hurry. I didn’t want the shoe store to close. I sank into my bath and lay back, closing my eyes letting the hot water rush over my body. L. waited until I opened my eyes and nodded at him, and began to wash and massage my feet and legs. He worked his way slowly over the rest of my body. I sat up and leaned forward on my arms, wrapping them around my knees, waiting for him to wash my hair. I turned to look at him and ask what he was waiting for when he leaned over and whispered:
“Did you get fucked good today Mistress?”
I didn’t answer.
“Was he good? Did he cum a lot? Did you make him cum a lot?”
“Yes. He was good. I stayed an extra hour for free and soaked his bed, he fucked me so good. I made him cum four times. Let him fuck me hard, he filled me up with a great big cock. Did you think about that all day? Me being fucked while you waited here at home?”
I reached down and grabbed his hard cock, just below the head, now covered in precum.
“Did you let him cum in your pussy?” he was practically drooling.
“You know the answer to that. Why are you still obsessing about it? You know what, go cancel the dinner reservation and get dressed. I have a new plan.”
L. was obsessed cum, with watching men cum, with the idea of another man coming inside of me, and with the idea licking it clean. But he’d always chickened out when given the opportunity. This questioning was a daily after work ritual between us, and he’d been very focused on my client’s orgasms pretty heavily lately, and I’d had enough.
I quickly washed my own hair and went to dress in the bedroom. A light corset, short silk print dress, strappy5 inch sandals; no panties. L. returned to the bedroom with a quizzical look on his face. I told him to dress as I finished up my makeup and put on my jewelry. I watched as he started to dress in the suit I’d picked out for him a few months before. He was tall and broad with a nice but hefty build, and had a bad habit of wearing a single pair of shorts and only free giveaway polos and teeshirts from vendors and tech companies he worked with, along with….a fanny pack. Which was, simply, not allowed in my presence. I’d chosen a deep turquoise polished cotton shirt and classically tailored double breasted navy suit with a tiny turquoise pinstripe, almost imperceptible. Much better; but tonight it was missing something. I stopped him and handed him my dirty panties from earlier. His cock throbbed, bobbing a bit; and reminded me this would be a perfect time for him to experiment with the chastity device we’d bought. I told him so and he froze. He’d insisted on trying it, but never wanted to wear it in public. I didn’t care tonight; and he didn’t fight me once he saw the look on my face. On it went, then the panties, then the suit.
We got in the car and I told him to drive to a certain upscale department store I’d scouted a few weeks before with a night like this in mind. I tucked the shoulder belt behind me and turned to face L. in my seat, my back to the window; putting a heel in his lap and parting my legs. I sat back and rubbed my clit, watching L. try not to look as I told him every last detail of my morning detante with my client.
By the time we got to the almost empty parking lot the sun was going down and the heat had subsided; but L. had worked up beads of sweat on his brow as I had worked myself into a wet orgasm in full view of several people in traffic. I re-adjusted my clothes as I waited for him to make it around to my car door. As he opened it I swung my legs out and sat spread eagle on the edge of the seat. I motioned with a finger for him to come closer, and as he leant down, pushed him to his knees on the ground. I ran my hands trough his hair and told him to get his last taste of cum-free pussy. He looked confused but complied without hesitating; burying his face between my thighs eagerly and lapping up my juices. I stopped him just short of orgasming again and had him stand in front of the door while I stood and straightened myself. The store would be closing soon and I wanted to be inside before it did.
As we walked through the store towards the shoe department, I caught the eye of a particular hot young salesman I’d been in to flirt with several times over the past few months. We’d exchanged email addresses and gone quite a bit beyond shoe salesman flirting. I’d suggested to him that I’d love to take it further, but with L. in tow; expecting not to hear from him again. Hot salesboy surprised me, messaging back admitting he was bi and would love helping me put my cucky in his place. We had made some standing plans and he knew what to expect when he saw me with a husky 40 something man following a few steps behind.
I meandered the shoe department, stopping to fondle a nice boot, picking up several pairs of heels and handing them to L., telling him to go find a salesboy and ask for these in a size 7; knowing Jason, my salesboy, was laying in wait. As I found a seat near the back of the department I heard the automated announcement that the store was closing in 5 minutes. I heard Jason tell the other salesman at the cash register to go ahead and cash out, he’d stay late and take care of these customers. I looked around; L. and I were the only ones left; perfect. I watched as L. handed Jason the shoes and sized him up as he headed towards the store room. I could tell he was trying to check out his package, a habit I’d noticed recently. Amused, I leaned back and called to him, patting the chair to my left. He came and sat, putting his arm around me as if to make it any clearer, I was with him. When he did I leaned in, placing a hand firmly on his thigh just below his cock; and whispered close to his ear, so it’d send chills down his neck:
“I bet you’d like to see that pretty boy’s cock wouldn’t you? I saw you checking it out, you dirty little cum eater. You want to suck it, don’t you? I’ll bet you want to see him cum….his balls slapping against my ass…his big load of cum dripping out of me…”
I continued, hissing louder and louder a continuous stream, filthier and louder as I grabbed his hand and slid it between my legs…
L. turned purple and stiffened, shushing me as Jason rounded the corner with a stack of boxes.
“Here we go; I had all of these in a 7 except for the Ferragamos, which I brought in a 6.5 and a 7.5….” he rambled on with his salesman schlep, pulling up one of those shoe salesman seats with the slanted mirror.
I scooted up to the edge of the seat and placed my left sandaled foot on the ramp between Jason’s knees. As he began unlacing my shoe I turned to look at L., whose eyes were as big as saucers as he looked at the mirrored ramp, in which my swollen clit peeking through wet labia was plainly displayed for all three of us to see. I put my hand on his knee reassuringly and watched as Jason looked up and winked at him. He lifted my left foot to the floor, placed my right foot on the bench, and then reached over and gently moved my left knee aside, parting my legs. I looked back at L. … who looked first shocked, then slowly as if it was all coming into focus now.
I grabbed L.’s hand again, pressing it between my thighs.
“Tell Jason how good my pussy is. Isn’t it? Tell him how you’d like to watch him fuck me. Spread me open for him.”
I watched L. stammer as he parroted me, looking both excited and as if he might implode with humiliation right there; his hands shaking.
I parted my knees wider, putting L.’s hands in place and leaning over to run my tongue up the side of his neck and suck his earlobe into my mouth before biting it.
“Do IT.”
I’ll finish part two before the weekend is over. Right now I have to go enjoy some sunshine and laugh about teasing you with half a story.
~
**oops**-sorry, I accidentally deleted a sentence when editing this. Here it is in case you missed it…
“We … can’t…. The doors… Aren’t there other people here?”
He sputtered. Jason and I exchanged looks and I gripped L.’s wrists and pushed his hands away as we kissed deeply. He stood, tossing some unpackaged stockings from the floor into L.’s lap.
“You were right. You wanna take care of him while I go double check that my manager’s gone?” he scoffed., turning on his heel towards the stockroom.
I pushed the stool forward with my foot, turning as I stood to face L., pushing a knee between his and up against the edge of the chair. I leaned over and grabbed him by the shirt collar with both hands, and placed all of my weight on my other knee, on his thigh.
“Listen up. You’re going to do as you’re told. This was all your big idea in the first place…and now what? You’re scared?”
I put my other knee in his lap and climbed on top of him, clutching his collar with both hands tightly, coming nose to nose with L..
“I’m getting those shoes and that boy and you’re going to watch and enjoy paying for both.”
I let go of his shirt and pushed him to the back of the chair with one hand on his breastbone. I picked up one of the stockings and shoved it in his mouth. He didn’t struggle. I grabbed another and forced his arm to the armrest, tying it tightly at the elbow to the armrest and back bar of the chair. I turned to tie the other and he had already put it in place, I tied it quickly. Settling to my knees , straddling his lap, I took the stocking from his mouth and leaned down to kiss him, running my hands though his hair. Giving his eagerness away, he returned my kiss hungrily, trying to touch me despite his constraints, his body rising to meet mine, his cock cage grinding against me. I gripped his hair and pulled him into a deep kiss , sucking his breath away before lifting my chin and exposing my neck to his gasping licks and mouthing. He gasped as I pinched a nipple tightly through his shirt and stood, pulling his head back by the hair with my other hand. I looked him in the eye questioningly, without a word. He knew this was the moment, if he was really going to back out, to say something.
“Yes.”
A half-moan-half-whisper escaped his lips. My smile was irrepressible, and I’m willing to bet, a bit evil.
I kissed him again, pulling him close. A special kiss.
Then I pushed him back to the seat, quickly unbuttoning his pants and working them down past L.’s panties, exposing them and the bulge of plastic they poorly covered underneath. I heard him inhale in shock/almost-protest, and put my hand over his mouth. Shaking my head at him, I leaned over and picked up the slightly damp stocking; pushing it back into his mouth. His eyes were wide as saucers.
Jason’s warm hand on my hip and hard cock pressing against my ass were a surprise; I hadn’t heard him some up behind me. He put one hand on each of my hips and pulled me towards him as I stood. He’d stripped naked in the stockroom, and come back sporting an enormous hard tool, which was now throbbing as we kissed and he quickly worked my sundress off with his hands. I reached behind me, running my hand along his hipline, stroking his balls as he caressed my breasts and nibbled my neck. Running his tongue along the outer edge of my ear, he slid a hand between my legs and whispered
“Everyone’s gone, I locked up. He’s ready?”
I nodded, running my hand up and down his thick shaft as he played with me, pressing up against me, breathing hard.
“You didn’t mention the panties. Or the…what’s that?”
“I didn’t tell you? L.’s not in charge of his penis; I am. He’s not allowed to touch it, or me, unless I say. In fact, for a while now, he hasn’t been allowed to touch either unless I have another man’s cum inside of me.”
“And the panties?”
“Well, I just thought he needed to remember who wears the panties in this relationship. Doesn’t he look ridiculous in them?”
“Yeah.”
“That’s the point.”
Jason grinned. I turned around and we kissed and felt each other’s bodies for several minutes before I stopped and turned to L.
“You’re not feeling left out are you? Awww..”
I chided, stepping closer and sitting on his knee. I still had Jason’s cock in my hand and fondled it as he also came closer, standing just between L.’s knees. I could see L. straining against his chastity device as he looked at Jason’s 9 or 10 inches, and I held his gaze as I delicately flicked my tongue over the tip, teasing them both for several minutes. Jason began to throb and moan as I licked his balls and then all the way up to his cock’s head, sucking it in. I pushed L.’s pants down to his ankles and his knees further apart, and settled back against his chest, drawing Jason towards me. I could feel L’s breath quicken as I began to slowly suck the giant cock just inches from his face. Jason put his outside foot on the chair next to L., giving us both full view of his powerful thighs and swinging balls. I watched L.’s eyes follow every move, locked on the union of my tongue and another man’s cock. I stopped and pulled the stocking back out of his mouth, kissing him and reaching back to grab a handful of hair as I held Jason ready, pulling him close. I partially broke the kiss but kept our tongues in contact, pushing Jason’s cock between our lips so that we were both licking it and kissing around it. L. eagerly opened his mouth, and Jason thrust himself deep into it. L. moaned a bit as Jason began to slowly fuck his mouth, trying to pull back- but I had his hair and held him firmly in place and pushed Jason’s hips further towards him. His eyes began to water and make lovely little gurgling noises as Jason’s pace increased. I reached down and rubbed myself as I murmured to L.
“Suck it like a good bitch. I want you to know just what it’s like to suck cock. You’re going to suck that cock and then watch while he fucks me in your lap, so you can have the same view I have.”
Jason pulled out of L.’s mouth, looking self satisfied, and leant down to kiss me. I adjusted in L.’s lap until I was leaning back on him like a recliner, my legs straddling his, as Jason moved between them. He dropped to his knees and began teasing me with his tongue, spreading my lips and licking my clit lightly. I turned my head to make sure L. was watching, kissing him as he continued to watch. Jason increased the pressure and began eating me in earnest, bringing me to a quick orgasm. He rose, planting his lips on L.’s and sharing my juices with him in a kiss as he readied himself between my legs.
He entered me swiftly, and thrust himself deep, pressing deeper for a moment as he came nose to nose with L., gasping.
“Oh, that’s good. You’d better watch like your woman says”
He pressed my knees further apart and began to fuck me with deep purposeful strokes, his balls pressing against me with each one. Before long I began a chain of orgasms that lasted until we were both covered in sweat, moving frenetically. Jason was a machine, rhythmically pounding harder and faster. His balls hung low, and were now slapping against L.’s thighs as he moaned. I could feel him pulsing and throbbing inside me, sending me into another wave of orgasm as L. whispered, chanted…
“Yes. Fuck her. Fuck her good…fill her up with your cum…Yes, fuck my Mistress.”
His eyes were glued on the wet shaft sliding in and out of me, and he’d struggled with his arm ties so that they’d all migrated to his elbows, leaving his hands free to grasp Jason’s hips as if he was the one being fucked. I could feel his orgasm coming as L. and I encouraged him. I milked him with my pussy – I couldn’t wait to feel that hot rush of fluid; and came, a loud, wet orgasm, as it filled me. Jason lay there spent for a moment before pulling his cock from me, and his cum rushed down my ass cheeks, mixed with my own juices, and began to drip on L.’s panties and thighs. I stood and turned around, standing in L.’s chair so I could place a knee to either side of his head on the back rest. His face was flushed, mouth open. No hesitation now. I reached between my legs and spread myself, squeezing my muscles until cum poured from me onto his extended tongue and down his chin. He lifted his head to reach me, just out of his reach, and slowly began to lick me, thoroughly and hungrily slurping the cum down. Jason untied L.’s arms and they wrapped around my waist, pulling me closer as I shuddered at his hot tongue burrowing deep in my just fucked pussy. I spread myself, exposing my clit, watching L.’s tongue lapping at me covered in pearly cum without noticing Jason sit next to us, jacking off as he watched. I began to feel my own cum well up inside my belly and moaned, grabbing L’s hair and holding his head in place. As I rode his face into a roaring , squirting orgasm, Jason got up and kneeled in the chair next to us, stroking his cock just above L’s face and showering it with a smaller load of cum as they both groaned. I stood back- L. was soaked- covered in cum, and had cum, himself, his panties wet and clinging to the plastic cage on his little cock.
He just sat there, slumped, dazed, as Jason and I exchanged kisses and began cleaning up. I reached in L.’s pocket and pulled out his wallet, handing his credit card to Jason and motioning towards the stack of shoe boxes.
“Bag those up for me, while we get cleaned up, doll.”
He ambled off towards the stockroom with the boxes, grinning. I slipped my dress back on and turned to L.
“You shouldn’t have cum…because I’m going to get fucked twice tonight, and the second time could’ve been you. Too bad. Who knows when you’ll get another chance…”
Just the way it is. Performed by Ms. R and her backup singers, the Vainglorious Exes.
“it’s just the way it is”…
When p. said this a week or so ago, it really pissed me off. Really. And it really worked on me for several days, but I couldn’t pinpoint why. Or, more accurately, I couldn’t, or didn’t want to, remember why. While trying to stay physically busy and mentally distracted, somewhere between vaccuming and finding a well hidden php parse error for a client, a little recurring memory in the back of my head set itself free and wafted through my thoughts:
that’s just the way it is”
…echoed through my head in a cacophony of several voices from the past that I have worked hard to forget.
And suddenly I knew, remembered what “that’s just the way it is” stands for. Again.
I sat, a little woozy from the sudden rush of memories and voices and mental images. Working backwards, I recognized L.’s voice immediately, the man with whom I had my last long term, and cuckolding relationship. Telling me on my 30th birthday that it didn’t matter that he finally -after years- could tell me he loved me, or that my daughter had grown so attatched to him, or that we worked so perfectly together both in and out of bed. It took weeks of fighting to get him to admit the reason. Which was, that I was, and in his eyes always would be, an escort. As he’d suggested when I hit a rough financial spot, and helped me become; and that this ultimately meant that he couldn’t commit to me. I made the biggest gesture to him I could think of, ‘retiring’ publicly and replacing my website with a message to my clients about why, and a personal message to L. expressing my wish to do whatever it took. In the end, it was still ‘just the way it is’.
Harmonizing above L.’s deep voice was K.’s. He was an awkward Canadian salesman I dated for a couple of years during one of my ‘off’ stints with L.; and lucky to have me. He had initially met me as an escorting client who reached out to me personally when my daughter was injured; but when it finally came down to brass tacks, he made no bones about not committing, at all, because of how we met. “That’s just the way it is…” – I do recall those words fitting into what I wish had been our final conversation. He showed up 9 months later in legal trouble, hoping to save his visa status with a marriage proposal, possibly the only one I may ever recieve. Made in the car as I drove him to pick up his car post jail stay. I never wanted ejector seats in my car quite so badly as I did at that exact moment. What a cherished memory. That’s just the way it is.
There were a few chorus boys, minor flings that could have been much more, singing along in the background a refrain of “just the way it is..is..is”. None of them left enough of an impression to remember the circumstances, but the phrase stood out. And the reasoning behind it was all the same.
Then my first real love, S. broke through in a clear solo, reminding me that I wasn’t really the ‘resume’ wife he needed for his military intelligence followed by medical career. Despite the years I’d spent putting him through school, the support through military basic and tech school and an overseas station during which his non-custodial daughter was severely abused by her stepfather and there were all manner of legal proceedings and difficulties to manage stateside, and during a trip I’d made to help him prepare for another overseas deployment. “That’s just the way it is”. He did say it. Followed by a dear jane letter a few months later, telling me the woman he’d itnroduced me to so I’d have someone to run errands with on base during my visit (another deployed soldier’s soon to be ex wife) was now his wife, and never to contact him again. And he repeated the refrain as if it was some sort of justification or explanation.
There are other times men in my life have used the phrase, too; which is why I’m surprised it took me a week to recall the real meaning. I can remember my father, a military officer and non-custodial parent most of my life, explaining to me glibly why I only heard from him once a year or so with the useless euphemism. Or my daughter’s father, explaining to at age 18 to 15 year old me why he couldn’t be bothered to help me figure out what to do about my unexpected pregancy, or a decade ago why he’d left the country to reside where his child support couldn’t be legally collected and would always drive nice cars, dress well, and live grandly, no matter what I thought C. needed from him. That’s just the way it is. It’s a more comfortable way for those with an emotional bunker mentality to say “I’m going to think of myself first”, and by “myself” I mean the reality of the vainglorious hauteur, not the high-brow noblesse that people like this have become in their own heads.
I don’t like to let these people enjoy their comfortable little lie to themselves. I usually find a way to extract a confirmation of the real reason, in one way or another. This time, it was a brief email message to p. Friday morning; composed like a mirror so that how he responded, or didn’t, would make the truth an unavoidable elephant in the room. No response. It’s early yet to ‘call’ it (not really, but work with me), but I’m pretty sure I know now why it is just the way it is.
An update, what happened in July, some kvetching.
This isn’t anything earthshattering, just a little update.
Some of you keep up with me via my yahoo email account listed on the contact page; and I always enjoy our conversations. BUT, much like this blog, since July, I’ve been neglecting checking in…I did so for the first time tonight in almost two months. And I’m glad I did- I was feeling pretty down, and just a couple of you had been nice enough to send me messages saying you missed me and my blog. Thank you, each and every one of you…I needed to hear that. I missed you guys too.
Everyone knows something happened in July that led to my taking a break from here, and I’ve been promising to share what; but I’m just not sure allthe details are all that important for everyone to know. Succinctly put, I decided to put an end to the mixed signals p2/the younger sub I was seeing was sending me and give him one opportunity to show me he meant all he’d said in the prior 6 months. And I got my answers.
Less succinctly- I had over a week without a kid and decided to surprise my sub with a visit, hoping it would last several days; but knowing that I would take the opportunity to make this boy stop his game playing with me, even if all I got out of it was one night. I arrived and we were entangled in each others arms before the door was shut, and spent half an hour like it was out of a movie, kissing and touching each other passionately in the hallway of his apartment; and it was amazing and powerful and like it was meant to be. He’s a surgeon, and got a call; which he lied to say was a call to come in to work right away- and I knew it was a lie. He had an on call day the following day, and asked me to stay in town(he’s in Dallas) until he was off, that he wanted to continue. Like a dolt, I did. And 24 hours later, when I hadn’t heard from him and drove by his place and saw his car at home, found myself knocking on a door until it was clear he wasn’t answering. A few hundred dollars and a lot of pride lighter, I drove home, having wasted three days and the spending money I had for the first ten child-free days I’ve had in two years. Feeling very foolish and disillusioned. When he showed back up last month to proclaim his need for me, he admitted the phone call was a girlfriend- vanilla- of several months; and claimed to have broken up. And no, there hasn’t been any ‘more’ in his apology attempts; and NO, I wouldn’t take them anyway. But there, that, in a nutshell, is what happened.
Since then I’ve talked with several people, been on a couple of dates with no connection, made seemingly great connections with a few men online who promptly disappeared from the face of the earth. A few weeks ago I met a wonderful gentleman online locally. He’s also much younger than most men I date- 28. We chatted until 5 am one night- an easy, free flowing conversation about all kinds of things, a refreshing change that I’d been missing. We shared similar views on D/s relationships, he was intelligent and engaging, and it was all around wonderful- ending with him saying he was going to bed with my picture in his mind. (adorable). The next week I tried making contact with him once a day, when I saw him online or just through an email; and kept getting no response, then I’d sign off and he’d send a quick ’sorry I missed you’ message. It seemed like I was suddenly talking to someone totally different. I finally made actual contact one night last week for a chat, and it seemed a bit tense at first. When it started to loosen up, it was also getting late, so I made gestures to end the conversation and asked him if he’d like to meet over the weekend for something low key- coffee or lunch, or a walk or something. First he said he’d love to, and then a minute later, that he’d have to check his schedule and get back with me. Ruffled, I told him ‘why don’t you do that, and we’ll see if I’m still free when you get back to me’. He told me he always moved cautiosly in the beginning of a relationship and I told him that I completely understood, but to be careful that he wasn’t appearing rude instead of cautious. The conversation ended shortly thereafter, and I haven’t heard from him since. Of course.
I guess my point is that I am just weary and tired of all the false starts; and very very lonely— not desperate — lonely- after so many all in a row. Disillusioned and a little disgusted, too- with myself and the world. And, feeling the blows to my confidence and trust in people; recognizing the damage that is doing to my ability to present myself in the best possible light. Trying to mend my hurts healthily, without leaving a chip on my shoulder, and acknowledging my responsibility in them. All reasons behind my not being around much lately and not having much interesting to say. Just so those of you who chat with me know, it has nothing to do with you.
I am working on several articles in the background- the improvements to my quilt rack roo-roo suggested and some DIY sex toy fun, my thoughts on chastity, misconceptions about sex workers, a few stories….but in my current mindset I’ve not made much progress. Having re-read my blog from beginning to end recently, I realize that I only come to write here anymore when I’m angry or down. That’s not good. I’m actually a lot happier person than a read of this blog would imply. Just, one with few outlets. So, I’m working on it. Chances are, though, until after the holidays, I’m swamped with marching season and yard work, which take priority to blogging about my kink disappointments. Just know, I’m still around, and it really keeps my spirits up to hear from you. Thanks for the messages.