Save the Last Dance
Continued from: Christmas Cards
He tossed his jacket aside as I melted into his arms once more, swaying gently around the room with absolutely no music playing. From the corner of my eye, I catch sight of Summer and Sarah, their faces aglow with happiness as they watched Mommy and Daddy slow dance.
As our impromptu dance came to a gentle conclusion, I found myself drawn irresistibly to Russell's face, my gaze fixed upon the single, crystalline tear that was trickling slowly down his cheek. With a tenderness born of our history together, I leaned in to capture the salty, briny tear, kissing him on the cheek in the process.
[F/mfff] [F/f] [lezdom] [spanking] [BDSM] [kink] [lesbian]
Watching Sarah and Mandy cuddled together on the couch, their bodies intertwined and their faces glowing with the aftermath of their heavy session downstairs, I couldn't help but marvel at the unique connection that had formed between them.
Adorable little things, those two are. Kissing each other's lips and nuzzling noses as they giggled and whispered about the ferocity of their recent orgasms. Mandy eventually made her way home, back to her own family, with a very sore bottom to sit on during Christmas dinner.
Christmas Day here, had been an absolute delight, with Summer and Sarah slipping effortlessly into their age-regressed personas, their innocence and charm enhanced by the darling Mary Jane Loubies they unwrapped in the morning.
Seeing them clicking around in their festive attire, their eyes sparkling with childlike wonder and excitement, filled my heart and Russell's, with warmth and joy. The girls had become very comfortable with calling Russell and I, "Mommy" and "Daddy", with Summer slipping in the odd "Papa", in her thick accent.
Up here in the North, we ended up getting a white Christmas, which seems to becoming more and more rare of late. News people said only three out of our last eight Christmas Days were white ones, which, twenty years ago, would have been unfathomable. Climate change is real, people!
Of course, the highlight of the day was undoubtedly the feast I prepared for everyone - a traditional prime rib roast with Yorkshire pudding. Turkey was outlawed in my household years ago, due to its similarity to sawdust on the palate.
The beef was much better. High heat sear on all sides to get a nice crust, then 200 degrees only, very low and slow, for 4-6 hours depending on the size of the roast. Pull it out when your internal is 137 if you want a perfect medium doneness, evenly from outside to the very middle.
Once I was able to shed my apron, "Mommy" got herself into a velvet dress, just like the girls only a little more sensual and mature.
As I descended the staircase and, the click of my heels echoing through the marble grand lobby, I was greeted by the sight of Russell, standing there in a suit, a glass of champagne held out in offering. His eyes widened with admiration, as he took in my appearance. "My Goddess," he breathed out, his voice thick with emotion, "you look absolutely radiant."
Blushing at his heartfelt compliment, I step into his strong arms, allowing him to enfold me into a tender embrace.
He tossed his jacket aside as I melted into his arms once more, swaying gently around the room with absolutely no music playing. From the corner of my eye, I catch sight of Summer and Sarah, their faces aglow with happiness as they watched Mommy and Daddy slow dance.
As we swayed gently around the room together, lost in our own memories, I was transported back to a time when he and I were younger, carefree, our love burning bright and fierce like a raging inferno.
The tears I'm afraid, did not stop there, as Boxing Day marked the tearful departure of Cassandra, back to the U.K. and back into the arms of her wife, Carley. After saying goodbye to Russell, to Sarah Jane and to a bawling Summer, Russell took the girls shopping, allowing some alone time for Cassie and I.
"Is there anything else I can do for you before I leave, Mistress? You've done so much for me!" A slow, wicked grin, spread across my face as I considered her question.
"As a matter of fact, there is," I purred, my voice laced with seduction. "Come with me." Taking Cassie's hand in mine, I lead her up the sweeping staircase and down the hallway, towards the hidden entrance to the strip club that lies concealed within the depths of the Facility.
Gentle music was playing in the background, as Cassandra turned and began to grind her ass into my midsection. I leaned in close, my voice dropping to a sultry whisper. "Dance for me, Cassie. Just like you used to."
She pushed me back onto the couch, her little frame pouncing on me like a jaguar locking eyes with its prey, before she drove her tongue into my mouth. "If I dance for you, Mistress" she gritted her teeth and put a hand around my throat, "can we fuck afterwards?"
I smiled at her softly and gestured to the change room, despite being partially strangled at that moment, I was able to breathe out a, "you can change in there."
Cassie quickly slipped into a scandalously revealing outfit that left little to the imagination. Her body is a work of art, all sleek muscles and tantalizing curves with a skinny waist and juicy arse.
I jumped when the music started, the first note ripping through my chest with a deep boom of bass. This was definitely a stripper song, carefully chosen by Cassandra.
She likely picked a song like this to reflect her current mood, brazen enough to put her hand onto her Mistress' throat! How dare she!
Truth be told, I think I did this move on her once, when we were having sex, and directed her hand around my neck. She's never let me forget that *blush*.
I found myself utterly captivated. Each thrust of her hips, each sensual roll of her shoulders, sent a jolt of electricity directly to my pussy, igniting a fire deep within my core. Lost in the hypnotic rhythm of her dace, I allowed myself to be swept away by the primal, animalistic energy that filled the room, surrendering to the dark, delicious pleasure that only Cassie can provide.
Turn that song up really loud, gaze upon the image below and just image our little Cassie, working that stripper pole as she slowly rids herself of her clothing.
Mistress Andrea
xoxo
Continued in: Guilty Pleasures
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