Mistress on a Mission

She chuckled. "I just want up close and personal this last time out," she answered. I told her it was very comfortable for me, a nice way to go.

Very shortly, her pee shot forcefully into the bowl. I let my mind's eye provide the picture of a strong flow from her vagina. My cock answered the call and stood up. As her piss abated, she passed gas, not holding back and getting a loud, strong crackle to echo into the bowl.

"Very impressive and highly un-ladylike," I said as congratulations.

"Like I give a shit about ladylike," she murmured, leaning toward my ear.

"You've always gone your own way. However, your shit has not been given," I teased.

"You are about to get your wish," Tasha said in mock warning. She relaxed and slouched into my back. She took a deep breath and let it out, and I felt her stomach contract. Tasha reached down and took hold of my penis. She rubbed along it's swollen lenghth, slow and gentle. I slumped over, enjoying it.

One more hint of her ass making like a duck call, and her trademark easy push started. I pictured her open anus, expanding to accommodate the exit of her healthy dump. Then I heard it sliding out of her and dropping into the toilet bowl with a "plunk."

"Houston, we have splashdown," I joked. Tasha looked at me, her eyes widening. A smirk spread across most of her face. In my ear, she said, "Remember what I said about trouble, mister," rather sternly.

I was allowed free of Tasha's lap. I cleared the way and she wiped clean. I manuevered to get a look into the bowl. A short, thick deposit. A brick, literally, and it hit the water like one. Tasha dropped her TP and closed the lid. She flushed. I collected my clothes as she put her bra and panties back on, lest she be spotted through a window between here and the bedroom, however unlikely.

In the room, I hit the bed first, Tasha behind me. From the corner of my eye, Tasha's hand opened the nightstand. Her next movements were like lightning. She turned me ninety degrees from behind, ckimbed in the bed, sat, and extended her legs. With my ass across her right thigh, she flicked the paddle against my cheeks, alternating at a rapid pace. It didn't hurt, but she probably made contact twenty or thirty times in as many seconds. For the grand finale she wound up and cracked me, twice. Fortunately, my bladder held.

"Well, I'm not wet...but I told you that remark would be trouble," Tasha said.

"It was funny, though," I said. With that, she slid out of her lingerie again, and sprawled on the bed on her belly. I climbed up and straddled her thighs, just below her ass. Starting low, I gently massaged her left cheek with both hands, periodically squeezing the excess soft flesh. This continued for about three minutes, and I switched and repeated the process on the right side.

Then I switched techniques, using my lips on her buttocks, generously kissing both halves. Then I buried my face in each cheek, pressing her excess around my face with my hands. I completed the treatment by gently running each of my hands up and down her ass, with just the lightest touch. Very carefully, I stretched out atop her and said in her left ear, "And that will conclude my sensory tour of one very ample, very fine ass. Please roll over to begin the final phase of your treatment."

I moved and she turned to her back. I straddled her again, across the hips. Very carefully, I leaned up so my face was even with her chest. "Ok?" I asked. Tasha's hands looped to my lower back. "Just fine," she assured me. She was definitely relaxed. Gently, I pressed my face into her cleavage. Both hands started with her left breast. I rubbed it delicately, lifting and fondling it from underneath, gently squeezing at times. Then I used both hands to carefully massage the entire thing, up and down. I immersed my face again, relishing the feel of soft flesh. Rythmically, I began huffing air into her chest. I moved over to the right and repeated my rubbing, fondling and massaging on her other breast I then thoroughly kissed them both in their entirety, stopping to let myself rest atop Tasha.

"How'd I do? Are you going to lodge a complaint?" I asked.

"I'm debating," she muttered quietly.

"I see how it is, then," I said feigning serioisness.

Resting on top, her laughter shook me gently, the sound sultry. "Seriously, a fine job," she said. "It was rather nice. Thank you."

I moved. Tasha put her clothes back on. She asked if I was going home. I told her I should, so my work routine would feel right. She walked me to the door, and I told her I would stop by after work tomorrow. We lingered over a kiss, and she held me, and I thought I heard her sniffle.

"See you tomorrow, Tasha," I said. She had to follow me down and let me out the front of the shop. I stood by until she re-locked the door and disappeared through the back by the minimal lighting. I surveyed the area and set off. It was after eleven p.m., but quiet, though I remained alert. I unlocked my doot as I reached it safely and stepped in. I could see the apartment above the coffee shop from my bedroom near the back of my house. One light was on. I sent a signal I figured Tasha could see, flashing my bedroom light four times with a pause between, then flipped it on as I readied for bed, and turned it off and journeyed to dreamland, accompanied by thoughts of Tasha.

Leaving work the next day, I traveled to a flower shop behind the diner in the neighborhood. I bought Tasha a custom spread of two-dozen roses in a vase. Six each of red, pink, white, and yellow. The florists knew their business, and the final product was eye-catching. I gave sincere compliments and thanks and paid, then strode out the door. I returned carefully to Cruise-In, checking for Tasha before entering. I didn't see her. Perfect. Surprise on my side, then. I stepped in, went to the counter and spoke with the owner. She smiled and nodded, pointing me to the back exit. I went through and up the stairs to Tasha's door. I firmly held the vase in one hand, knocked, and adjusted it.

The door opened, Tasha's eyes settled first on my face, then widened as she noticed the roses. All of them were richly colored, most just coming open. I lifted the vase, and she reached out and took it. She set the flowers on the cofee table in front of her loveseat as I stepped inside. She made her way back over and hugged me. I returned the hug as she said, "Ethan, those are beautiful. Thank you. But what--?" she started to ask.

"I read somewhere that the average mistress appreciates and will encourage gifts from satisfied clients," I said, ginning. Though I technically was not, and you probably term your exploits "moonlighting," I wanted to give you something. For the invitation, for your time and effort, for understanding my desires and working around my limitations, however small," I said.

We remained holding each other. "Thank you. Very much. It's been awhile since I got flowers, or even bought any for myself." She moved and gazed into my face. "For the time being, I guess you'll be just down the sreet, right?"

"I will. And back for coffee," I said. I kissed her. "I'll see you around, Tasha." I turned and started down the stairs, glancing back as I heard the door latch. Tasha and I might soon become an "item," as the term went. Time would tell. I went through the door and down the street toward home.

The End