Mistress and I have been away this weekend, in a small town in the South of England called Winchester. We stayed in a nice, old hotel which was perhaps a little over-priced but was very pleasant all the same. Before I continue this I should explain that Mistress R is punctual to the point of… why leave enough time when you can leave fifteen minutes early to be on the safe side, you know… I mean I’m punctual, I will be on time every time, but Mistress R is on a whole other level.
Anyway, Mistress had had her shower and I was reading a book, and I knew I had to have a shower and get ready to go out, but that really doesn’t take all that long. So Mistress came and sat on the the bed and put her feet next to me, which obviously meant she wanted me to worship them. So, I was kissing them and my cock was just getting harder and harder and harder! I thought, I really need to ask her if I can touch my cock, because I really need to touch it right now. But I thought, you know, I’m supposed to be worshipping her feet, the correct thing to do is to wait until she tells me to stop and then ask if I can touch myself.
Usually when these things happen, the moment passes and my cock isn’t quite so desperate for attention, but in this instance it was still rock hard when she pulled her feet away. But before I could get the words out she damn near jumped off the bed and said ‘I’m just going to use the bathroom before you have your shower’, leaving me in a very uncomfortable position, with my cock throbbing away…
When she came back I casually brought my ‘enormous’ bulge to her attention and she briefly stroked my balls (my balls that is NOT my cock, not even a little bit…!) through my boxer shorts, vaguely promising some proper teasing later that night, because ‘we haven’t got time right now’. Gallingly, after showering and getting ready I then had to kill time by reading my book again, because it was far too early to make the five minute walk to the restaurant!
The Restaurant (The Old Vine) was cracking I have to say, Mistress and I often swap puddings half way these days, it’s great because the second half of a pudding is never as good really, and you get to try two instead of one. Well, it wasn’t a case of ‘thought I’d died and gone to Heaven’ so much as ‘Thought I was going to die.. I could literally feel my arteries closing’. Two of the best puddings in living memory, but both rich as hell, I knew there wasn’t going to be the remotest chance of any more teasing after these. And so it proved, after an evening of rich food and alcohol we retired to the room, to sleep.
It’s been a busy day today as well, but hopefully something good will happen tomorrow.