So, I was in a right old grump most of yesterday. It started when I broke my favourite mug, spilling coffee all over my feet and the kitchen floor at breakfast and continued pretty much for the whole day. In fact, my mood only improved (and it did so considerably) when I managed to meet up with “The Other Guy” after work.
He gently rubbed my neck and shoulders as I told him all about how shit my day had been. It didn’t take him long to have me out of my clothes and to have me feeling warm and relaxed as his hands worked away the tension in my back.
He did, of course, comment on the visible effects of my most recent thrashing; asking me what I’d done to deserve such punishment this time. I told him, in great detail, about the fun “The Girl” and I had got up to on Wednesday evening after our most recent “catch-up”; to which he agreed that my subsequent thrashing had been more than merited. In fact, he even went as far as to suggest that, given how the marks had almost faded, I had, perhaps, been let off somewhat lightly.
Now, I have to say, when I was enduring the kiss of Master C’s belt on Wednesday evening, it didn’t seem like He was being particularly lenient. He really does know how to wield that belt; but I digress…
Of course, my lurid descriptions of my afternoon and evening of wanton, girl-on-girl debauchery had a very obvious effect on him; it was evident than “The Other Guy’s” cock was straining, desperate to be set free.
Now, one thing that Master C has taught me is that I should always be fully appreciative when someone does something nice for me. As “The Other Guy” had cheered me up no end, and had made me feel so nice as he massaged the strains of the day from my body, it was only right that I should show how thankful I was by releasing his cock from its straining confinement and subjecting it to the much more pleasant, warm and wet confinement of my mouth.
I may be a slut, but no one can ever fault my manners.
It seems he was every bit as grateful for the blow-job as I had been of the massage. I had hardly had time to get into my stride when I recognised that familiar pattern of breathing, that tension in his groin that announce that he is on the point of orgasm.
His cock erupted, deluging my mouth with a thick torrent of cum. Swallowing it down, I marvelled at how much he produced. “The Other Guy” is generally quite a heavy comer, but anyone would have thought he had gone without coming for weeks; whereas I know for a fact he’d been relieved of several loads just as recently as last Saturday…
Once he’d recovered, we swapped places; me on the edge of the sofa and him on his knees, between my legs, as he embarked on a prolonged bout of “getting his beard moisturised”.
I wasn’t going to complain. When it comes to going down on a woman, both the men in my life are extremely talented. Both Master C and “The Other Guy” belong to that rare breed of men that, when they go down on a woman, they give their full concentration to the task that’s in front of them; they both take their time and do the job properly. With them it isn’t just a quick perfunctory licking, to be done as quickly as possible, they both actually seem to luxuriate in it.
Suffice to say, I came several times before “The Other Guy” finished his devotions. By that time his cock was fully restored and, with the aid of gravity, I slid off the sofa, on to the floor and, to my astonishment, found myself underneath him.
We fucked. We fucked slow, we fucked fast, we fucked long and we fucked hard. We fucked until my cunt ached, and then we fucked some more. His cock massaged my insides every bit as skilfully as his hands had massaged my outsides. I came hard on his cock, gripping it tight inside me, feeling stretched and full and fabulously fucked.
He pulled out just before the end and fed me his cock. I loved the taste of myself on its length and the flavour of my juices was quickly combined with the wonderful taste of yet another load of his cum.
We cuddled there, on the floor, for a while after that and I left and drove home.
Master C still wasn’t in when I arrived, so showered and then poured myself a large glass of wine, before plonking myself down on the sofa, and proceeded to “unwind further”.
And that’s pretty much how Master C found me when he got home; somewhat tipsy, naked, nipples clamped, my favourite plug in my arse and with my fingers in my cunt. I didn’t even need any instruction; I simply got off the sofa and meekly adopted the required position as He smiled, winked and proceeded to remove His belt.
The lashes that rained down mercilessly upon my arse were as painfully delicious as they were fully deserved. The pain made my face flush almost as hotly as my other cheeks.
Tears streaked down my face as Master C spun me around and forced his cock into my mouth.
“Filthy Slut!” He said with quiet authority as he fucked my face, driving His cock angrily into my throat as His grip tightened around my neck.
I knew I didn’t deserve it, but I hoped I would be allowed to take Master C’s cum in my mouth. Instead, I got what I deserved. At the last second Master C pulled out and dumped a heavy load on to my face.
The rest of the evening was spent in acts of atonement. Once in bed, Master C fucked me gently and tenderly, letting me know that he had forgiven me.
My last conscious thought before I finally drifted off to sleep was, “well, today ended much, much, much better than it started…“