|Blogs > rm_Ptalk1155 > A Silver Tongue's Home|
Ugh, my back has been killing me since this morning. That’s one thing I miss about being in a relationship: massages, giving and receiving. At the moment I’d like nothing better than to lay half naked face down in front of a TV with some lovely lass working out the kinks…
So, I was going to just crash (especially after that discussion going on in straightten's blog) but I said I'd post about the dream, and I like to make sure I always do what I say I will. Forgive me for my lack of descriptive ability this evening and the relatively plain, un-kinky nature of said dream. As Jean-Luc Picard once said, “A man is not responsible for what his mind does when he’s asleep.” (Sue me, I’m a geek.)
(Note: Italics not in quotes or used for word emphasis is internal monologue)
Anyway, this obviously takes place in some future or alternate reality, because I am not married (nor do I intend to be for quite some time but that’s another discussion), yet I came home to find a woman who I understood to be my wife dressed in a simple maid’s outfit, cleaning the countertop of a kitchen I’ve never seen that I understood to be mine as well. I also felt that this was a strange thing, my wife in a maid’s outfit, a rather skimpy one at that. As I understood it, we had a saucy Hispanic maid by the name of Maria whom my wife picked out. She’s notorious for picking sexy women to work in my home. Maybe she has bisexual tendencies? Maybe she just likes to torture me.
“Hi honey, I’m hooome”, I intoned, shrugging off my coat and hanging it on the nearest reclining chair. She didn’t even look up, which I found odd because if she was here she usually came bouncing over to give me a kiss. She’s a playful girl, especially if she thinks I’m exhausted and don’t want to be bothered, the little scamp.
Shrugging, I headed for the kitchen to find myself a soda. She continued to buff that countertop over and over again.
“Where’s Maria? Is she not feeling well?”
“Mrs. _____ went out to visit her mom, she won’t be back until tomorrow.”
Mrs. _____ went out??
“Ah huh…” I reached into the fridge and pulled out a can, popping the top and letting a sip of the cool bubbly liquid flow down my throat, while watching my wife’s lovely behind bounce and weave as she buffed this poor countertop into submission.
“Why are you wearing that outfit?”
“You’re silly Mr. _____. You know I always wear this outfit when I clean. I’m the maid. It’s my uniform.”
Let me mention that I can be slow on the uptake for this kind of thing (especially in dreamland). It’s one of those things to which I am constantly oblivious. The emphasis on the “my” turned on the light-bulb for me.
“Ah huh…” Soda set down, I stepped behind her and let my fingers graze lazily up an exposed thigh. She stiffened ever so slightly, but kept right on buffing. “Isn’t it a bit cold?”
“Oh no sir, it’s just fine.” I could see her grinning, no doubt happy that I finally figured out she wanted to play.
“Oh yes sir.”
“Because…” I leaned over her, letting the warmth of my breath flow over her neck with each hushed word, my lips hovering behind her earlobe, my hands slipping up to brush along the sides of two restrained voluptuous mounds, fingers trailing towards their respective centers where two hard points pressed out from the fabric “you look a little cold…” I let my fingers slide past those points and away from her entirely, secretly slipping down and around towards her luscious behind. I could feel her shivering, emitting a soft noise of discontent as I avoided two nubs begging for attention.
“I also can’t believe my wife lets you wear something so revealing…”
“Well, look at this short skirt, why I bet every time you bend over you flash your bottom to anyone there to see. I’m not sure my wife would appreciate our maid flashing her husband so shamelessly.” I let my tongue ‘accidentally’ swipe her ear as I spoke, as though I just got too close.
“I’m…I’m sorry…Mrs. ____ never said anything…”
“And…it leaves those charms open for anyone who might just slip up behind you…just a little lift of this skirt, like this, would expose everything…”
“Oh my. You’re not even wearing panties? What a naughty girl you are. I don’t know if I can have a naughty maid working for me.” She had stopped buffing the countertop now, and simply stood there trembling, waiting for whatever I might do to her, wondering if I would finish the game or leave her there frustrated until she decided to drop the act. I had done that once or twice before, just for the fun of it.
“I’m..I’m so sorry sir. Please don’t fire me! I need this job soOHHhooo much!” Her voice spiked as my fingers splayed out along her taut bottom and squeezed ever so gently.
“Uhhmm…yess…” she practically moaned as I ran my thumbs down along the crevice between those soft cheeks, sliding them ever lower until they crossed into the moist warmth of her juices now running down her thighs.
“Oh? What’s this…you’re all wet down here. Did you spill something on yourself when you were cleaning? That could be very…very bad…I think I have to look and make sure.”
“Oh…yes…you…should look…” she breathed.
I slid down behind her, the scent of her arousal assaulting my nose in a most pleasant way. She leaned forward to press her chest on the counter now, squirming and waiting for that first touch in the most intimate of areas, but I preferred to tease her some more for catching me off guard with this little game.
“Hm…well, there’s definitely a lot of liquid down here. You’re dripping all over the floor…I thought maids were supposed to clean up not make a mess…” I tsked at her, letting a lone digit drag upwards through the river oozing down her thigh, following it from her calf up to the swollen lips from which it came, tracing around them in lazy circles but refusing to do any more. She moaned outright, pressing back at me and trying to force more contact, but I refused. Instead, I rose, bringing my coated finger to her face.
“Do you know what this is…hmm? No? Maybe if you give it a little taste you can tell me…”
Her lips pursed ever so slightly my juicy finger slid across them, then suddenly her mouth locked onto it, devouring as much as she could, looking back at me with fire in her eyes. I only grinned in response, knowing precisely how much she enjoyed tasting herself.
“Still no idea? Well, maybe if I tasted it I could figure it out...” Her eyes flashed at me. I knew she wanted me to stop teasing her and just take her right there on the kitchen counter, but I was having much too much fun to stop just yet. I retracted the finger from her mouth, requiring a little bit more effort than I expected as she sucked back at it.
Kneeling back down, I decided enough was enough, and blew a warm breath across her dripping sex, eliciting a moan from above me. Then, without warning, my tongue shot out and licked her from her ass all the way to her clit, setting her off wailing in climax.
Then I woke up.
Yeah, disappointing isn’t it? I really hate dreams that end at the good part. Guess you’ll just have to tell me what happened after that.
11/15/2005 11:21 pm
"Oh what's this?...I'm all wet down here...."|
11/16/2005 7:06 am
That was so erm mmmmmmmm wet
keep writing babes
11/17/2005 7:41 pm
very nice blog|