Mirror Images

Tommy sent me shopping this afternoon without him. Knowing how I feel about shopping, I hope he didn’t have hopes of being too long alone. I looked at most of the stuff in the antique mall at least once, returned to haggle over a piece I might want, and went home almost empty handed. If it doesn’t pierce me to my soul or isn’t a tremendous bargain, the shops get to keep their merchandise.

I wonder why he wanted me out of the house. Probably one of his surprises. I wonder what he’s got in store for me this time. We made our lists of things we wanted to do with each other over the months of our enforced separation. This man has brought such joy to my life; I feel excited by his merest presence. A look from him, a word and my world begins to throb beginning between my legs.

Home at last! I toss the packages on the desk and collect my “welcome home” kiss and we embrace. He smells wonderful. There is a scent about him that drives me to distraction – soap, and shaving lotion, and ....... him. He whispers in my ear, “Ann has a surprise waiting for her.”

I tense at the name. Ann. It presages what I am wont to call “fun” and he “excitement.” Whatever it is, I’m never disappointed. I step away and look into his eyes, at his face for a clue. Nothing beyond the smile so slight that it is almost imperceptible to anyone but me. But there’s a glint in his eye that tells me..... the game’s afoot.

He says, smiling more broadly, “You must go to the bedroom and all will be clear.” He’s an imp.

I look at him, questioningly, wondering what he has in mind. What in the world can it be?

“Go now, Ann, and prepare.” Those words bring joy to my soul, to my depths. I smile hugely and head for the bedroom. Tommy is at my heels and stops in the doorway.

On our bed is a black bustier (odd, he does not care particularly about dress, unless we’re role playing). And with it there is a note. The door closes behind me as I read. Glancing up, I see I am alone. The note reads: “Shower, and dress in these clothes. Then wait here for your Master to direct you.”

My clothes come off and are tossed in the hamper. My panties are already damp and the anticipation is building. I run the water in the shower, hot, hot – steam rises as I step in. I begin my ritual – arms, neck, back, legs all receive adequate scrubbing. Then a more deluxe tour of my front – my eyes slide shut and my hands become his, slipping over my abdomen, lifting and cupping my breast, fingers teasing the nipples to hard points. Umm, feels so good. Taking the slick gel for the “sensitive areas,” I slowly wash my pussy, checking to see that no stubble mars its clean, slick surface. My fingers dance through the part, and feel my clit hardening. “No, no. Mustn’t play now,” I think. A breath of cool air then nothing when I look. Oh well. I step out and busy myself drying and adding a body lotion that has flecks of mica in it to catch and reflect the light. Subtle, not garish. Besides it smells of sweet cranberry.

Hanging up the towel, I fix my hair and face, and pad into the bedroom. He’s sitting on the bed. I jump a little, startled. He’s wearing black leather pants and a vest – I could jump his bones right now, he looks so sexy!! Oops! It’s Master. I drop to the floor, hands behind my hips, heels up, knees spread, eyes down. “What does my Master wish?” I ask.

“Arise and come to me,” his master’s voice. Well, I’ll try to tempt him quickly. I’m needful and getting more so by the moment. I walk toward him slowly, letting my weight settle on each leg, shifting the hip outward in a gentle sway. I stand before him, begging his touch. My nipples harden as I think of how his hands feel.

“Put your hands upon your head and turn around slowly,” he says. It’s always a difficult maneuver so that one does not end looking clumsy and pigeon toed. I rise on tip toes, cross my feet at the ankles, and slowly unwind before him. My hands on my head leave breasts pointed directly at him. They’re beginning to ache.

“Have you washed, thoroughly?”

“Yes, Master,” I reply.

“Everywhere?”

“Yes, Master,” I pout. I feel a flush creeping down my neck. I would give anything to feel his touch, his tongue, his lips on that skin.

Facing him, his eyes devour me. As if he were supping after a long journey, I feel his eyes draw me into his being – as if he didn’t see me every day. I marvel at this delight that he is. His hand moves to my breast, lifting it, stroking one then the other. I shiver, inhale and arch my back into the touch of his hands. It is a feeling beyond wonderful. That touch that joins us is now the center of my being. He taps the nipple lightly. I gasp. Each tap sends jolts of pleasure through my body to reside in my pussy. My clit is hard, I can sense it between my nether lips, pushing for attention.

His hand slides, barely touching, over my side to my hip and then to my mons. He knows my excitement, my lust. His hand slides between my legs, parting the lips with his finger. I gasp again. My hips press forward onto his hand. Begging this tease to progress to more, more. He strokes me softly front to back to front. I feel the moisture of my desire moving under his fingers, painting me. A moan issues unbidden from my throat. It is a moan born of wanting this man. His finger parts my lips and catches at the opening .... and stops! I need him. My knees bend to invite his entry, my chest is red with excitement and need for him. But he is still. Completely still. Then withdraws his hand.

“Soon,” he says. “Put on the bustier now.”

I reach across him, practically dragging my nipple across his lips. And he doesn’t take my bait. Damn! I buckle the black lingerie around me and adjust my breasts on its shelf.

“You may squeeze your nipples now,” he smiles.

My hands slide in feathery touch up the outside of the tight garment, the blunted touch tickling and teasing until my hands cup the weight and finger and thumb reach to tug and twist the sensitive tips. “Mmmmm,” rumbles in my throat. My hands slide back down to approach and tease again, each circuit making my heart race, and breathing accelerate, culminating in a gasp as the pinch-pull sends the jolt of pleasure through my body.

“Show me how wet you are,” he interrupts my reverie.

“Now,” I think, “now I’ll have him.” My hands slide down and part my lips. Our mirror is behind him, so I see what he sees – red flesh, slick and wet, glistening on the tops of my thighs. He stands and I hold my breath ....... now.

He hands me a leash and collar. They are not mine. I look at him and question what they are for, without speaking a word.

“Follow me, Ann.” He stands and leads me toward the back bedroom, our “play” room. He opens the door. The room is dark. As I stand in the doorway, he switches on the spotlight.

Before me is a luscious creature, whose name I learn is Lynn. She is delicate, nearly four inches shorter than I and small boned. Her eyes are dark pools, even in the light as she looks at me. Her hair is a dark bay, nearly black, complimenting her olive skin. She has the beauty of young Italian women. I look at him, smiling.

“Lynn is yours to do with as you wish. She is your slut slave for whatever you desire from her. Enjoy yourself.”

The light on her skin drags my eyes back to her. She stands motionless. He walks to a chair by the bed, bends forward to pour wine into two of the three glasses on the table next to his chair. He settles into the comfort of the easy chair and is silent. I can almost feel his eyes on me, on Lynn.

I step close to Lynn and begin to walk around her, seeing what she is up close. She has nice breasts that will fit in my hands, the nipples are large and prominent. They stand out, highlighted from above and casting shadows down her belly. She wears wrist and ankle cuffs. Her mons is smooth shaven like mine. And she is apparently excited, as the lips are puffy and reddened. Moisture tickles at the edges and across the tops of her thighs. She is lovely.

I look at him and smile my thanks. My God! What a gift!

I stand in front of Lynn, buckle the collar around her neck. Her skin is soft and supple, surmounting a beautiful musculature – nothing obvious, just firm. The leash snicks onto the collar. I walk her like a horse on a lunge lead. She is graceful and smooth in her pace, apparently aware of the picture she presents. A tug on the leash and she stops.

I stand behind her, close enough that my nipples slide over the skin of her back and bump against her ribs when I move. My hands stroke her neck from ears to shoulder, lightly, lightly, assessing the texture of her skin first with the backs of my fingers, then with finger pads, whispering across the flesh until goose bumps rise, and a little flush begins. Then my nails, again like feathers make the trip, this time running to shoulder points. The exquisite slowness of this journey is maddening, is incredibly erotic to me.

Lynn begins to lean into my touch, begging a firmer knowing. “Slut! Hands over your head.” She looks like an odalisque. I shift my focus and slide my hands down her sides. Again the tripartite touch. My nipples drag across her skin as my arms move. It is delicious for me, and for her–I feel her lean into me. When my hands reach her hips, they solidify and hold her momentarily. The journey of discovery begins again, the flats of my hands moving up her abdomen to those lovely peaks. Knuckles, fingerpads, nails. She shivers. My hands slide back down her stomach, tips teasing at her bare mound, then move back up, appreciating the soft tenderness of her, such a contrast to his hardness. And I know what she feels. It is delicious torture. The wanting builds on itself to an incredible intensity. If I touch her center, she will come.

My hands move to crush her breasts, this time they remain, cradling the softness, fingers teasing at the tips. Lynn arches at my hands and I assault her neck, her earlobe with my tongue and kisses and teeth. She is sweet to taste. I can almost feel the kisses on my own neck. She preens like a cat, shifting weight subtly into my attentions.

I begin to squeeze her nipples between my fingerpads. Her breasts shift over her rib cage as I pull at the nipples. She groans and her arms drift down, hands running over my sides to pull my hips to her. Her head falls back. I smile at the lusciousness before me. And we kiss. Chaste, testing kisses. Sweetness incarnate. Then with increased intensity. I scrape a fingernail across a nipple tip and she jumps, moans and sucks my tongue into her mouth with surprising force. This kiss is no longer sweet but strong with growing passion and wanting.

My hands move away from her breasts, again as if on a long journey best taken slowly and easily to conserve strength. I am knowing each inch of her. My hands reach the crease of her thigh and abdomen, and follow the fold to her mons. My fingers pause at the top of her slit. Lynn’s hips lift, her feet move apart, and she invites me to test her.

Her hands no longer rest on my hips, but have moved and play at the top of my slit, teasing at the engorged clit buried there. My fingers probe Lynn. There is a chorus of uncoordinated gasps and moans from each of us, as each new sensation drives us onward. Lynn’s wetness coats me, her hips pump onto my questing fingers, and they slide just inside her.

I break contact to turn her to face me. Our breasts duel. My hand traverses up Lynn’s back until I find her hair. Holding a handful of it, as he does mine, I hold her head back and kiss her. Again the progress slowly from virginal to whorish; our lips finally delivering pleasure in their soft maneuverings, the tongues duel and probe. Hot breath as we turn our heads to sample a new direction.

My free hand moves to her center. I probe her more deeply, inserting first one, then two fingers to the knuckles, reaching for that hard rough patch of nerve that will trip her orgasm. Lynne’s hand is seeking the same. Time has stopped and there is just sensation.

My breasts ache for touch, and I press Lynn downward until my nipple meets her lips. She slyly licks to tease and I pull her more forcefully to my breast. She suckles hard and thrums the end of that tit with the roughness of her tongue. My head falls back, my eyes shutter and my throat calls out its bliss. I move her to the other side, and enjoy the delight again, virgin flesh caught and tortured by Lynn. I move her back and forth first to one then the other. The excitement of it is overpowering. My knees are ready to buckle. I can feel my jaw sag and care not, as my lungs suck air hoping to invigorate my lusting flesh.

Lynn moves her hands to my pussy. I step one leg wide apart from the other, giving her access to me. She strokes so gently, until the outer lips are fair coated with my wetness, begging more. I moan with each pass of her fingers. Finally, finally, she parts the lips and lets her fingers sink into me. I am lost in sensation. Lynn is sliding her fingers in and out of my cunt. I can feel it contract and pull and beg. I’ve lost the power of speech, of movement, and am centered only on the sensations rising through my body in ever more pronounced waves. Each a crescendo in its own right.

My hips thrust onto Lynn’s hand, knees flexed out asking for more, more. I am holding onto Lynn for dear life as my orgasm hits. Lynn’s fingers still plunge into me as wave after wave of exquisite pleasure emanates from my cunt. I quit breathing, my muscles freeze in mid-writhe, squeezing out each bit of intensity from this orgasm. Only in the center does my body function, as my pussy grabs and holds and grabs yet again in its release. If I did not have her to lean on, I would collapse.

Lynn’s motions slow, the aftershocks tremor through me, slowly diminishing, each a petit mal. Finally it subsides. It has been hours, I know. I am exhausted. Then drawing on reserves, and sucking air into my oxygen-starved body, I step back and take her leash.

“Well done, slut. But I am not yet finished.” A sideways glance shows me he has taken his cock out and is slowly stroking it. Good. He is pleased. I am happy.

Tugging on her leash, I lead Lynn to the bed. “Lie down on your back, spread your arms and legs that I may shackle you.” I fasten her to the restraints that recently held me. Do I appear so vulnerable as this to him? She is lovely, she is totally mine. She cannot stop whatever I wish of her. I turn and select some toys from a drawer, setting them on the bed next to Lynn.

I kneel at the foot of the bed and move up until I am positioned comfortably between Lynn’s wide-spread thighs. I can see her opening from here, her lips open and the dark flesh beckoning. I stroke her legs, again admiring the firm flesh, the strong muscle and the softness lent by the feminine structure. It is so sweet. Feathery touches. She writhes. Then my nails make the journey. Lynn moans louder as I approach her cunt. I am enjoying this teasing. It is such sweet torture, I know how wonderfully it feels. And it makes the release thunder in its intensity to build and build until all is lost and the self dissolves into a froth of pussy juice and delight.

My thumbs slide from the bottom of her cunt to the top of the slit. Her hips buck into my hand, seeking attention for her throbbing clit. I let my thumbs slide in her moisture and slip across the surface of her clit that peeks from its hood. Her moan is gutteral. My touch becomes a little faster and a little deeper, until I dip into her hole and tease the guardian sphincter. She groans and cries, thrashing and begging her hips raised and seeking release.

“Don’t you come yet, slut. Don’t you come ‘til I tell you it is okay.”

Lynn falls back, the wind taken from her sails. I cannot resist a huge smile. This is power. Does he feel this? It’s intoxicating. But I know where Lynn is, too. Taken to the verge and over or taken to the verge and forbidden. Each has its charm, its compelling nature, its addiction – to touch.

I begin again, this time, sliding a finger in and out of her vault. As she begins to respond again, I pull the wet finger away and slide it into my mouth and out again, to lick her essence from it. I smile and watch Lynne watch my pleasure. I take it back to her and plunge it in and out of her hot center, its walls gripping tighter as I add first one more finger then two. Lynn is whimpering and begging by now. She is frantic. My hand seems to disappear into her past my knuckles and I rake her g-spot on each pass.

I lean forward and stage-whisper to her, “Come now, you slut. Come for me!” And I sink my hot mouth onto her clit, sucking it and teasing it with my tongue. Yes, this is pure torture, pure delight. She is spasming around the fingers that still move in and out of her. My mouth pulls away to flick with tongue and back again to suck her clit between the rasps of my teeth. She pulls against her restraints, her hips pound at me. And she ululates until her air runs out, gasps and screams again.

Slowly I bring her down with gentle touches and licks. She shudders with each touch, each a mini-orgasm shaking her. Lynn’s eyes begin to focus again. I am grinning like Alice’s friend in the tree – the smile is all you can see.

I look at him. He quietly applauds and lifts a glass of wine. I leave Lynn to recover and sit on my darling’s lap. His arm encircles my waist and we sip our wine, wordless. He must know how wonderful this has been. He cannot know how wonderful this has been. Our wine vanishes. He pats my ass and tells me to finish with my playtime.

Lynne is smiling and giggles as I approach. “What would please my Mistress now?”

“Another test of your submissiveness.” I say. I look over the selection of toys.

My old friend, LilLar, bereft a great deal lately, will do nicely. I turn it on and begin to tease Lynn’s nipples until they are firm and again begging for touch, touch. I suck one and vibrate the other. I move around to Lynn’s head and continue to play with her, moving my nipples to her reach. She sucks and teases with her tongue until I think I shall come from merely that. It is so sweet. She moans around my breast and I around hers. God! More, more!!

I move down Lynn’s body until my pussy is above her mouth and I can reach her. My tongue dances and teases, laps and my mouth sucks and warms. Her hips begin the dance and mine follow. She mimics my touch as she can. Shudders of pleasure race through my body. My hips want to grind my clit into her face and lose myself in a world of nothingness – nothing but pure pleasure.

I reach for LilLar and slide him in a single thrust into Lynn’s sopping cunt. “Don’t you dare come ‘til I tell you that you can.” And I turn LilLar on full. He is a monster shaker and reaches all the sensitive spots. Soon Lynn begins to moan and groan. Then she is whimpering and her tongue flies against my clit, plunging inside me and back again. I am on the verge and want to come but also want this intensity to continue.... God! My hands move to my nipples and twist and pull, and roll them. I know Lynn is about finished.

“Don’t come yet!” I cry. I am desperate to keep her mind on me. No sooner than the words are out of my mouth than I am overcome. I shake and shudder. My whole body seems to convulse around that tongue. “Now, now, come you bitch! Ohmigod. Oooohhhhmmmmiiiiigggggggoooooooooodddddddddddddd.”

Lynn’s answer is another cry at the edge of her vocal range. My hips plunge at Lynn, my voice joins hers. And the waves seem to continue. Ecstasy personified. Marching its way through each of my senses and settling in the center of me.

I collapse across Lynn, remove LilLar and turn him off. As my breath returns and begins feeding my crazed mind and body. I can think.

I release Lynn’s restraints, but indicate she should remain there. I kneel between Lynn’s thighs, pull her knees up and out and put her hands behind her knees to hold herself wide and open. God! She is beautiful. It is incredibly exciting to see her this way. So open, so vulnerable; something he admires. Does he see this? He must. It’s incredibly erotic. I can feel my pussy growing wet again.