Sunglasses

Continued from: Weeping Willow

Sarah was simply exquisite with her tongue, lapping at my pussy with such skill and dedication. Each flick sent waves of pleasure coursing through my body, building to a crescendo that left me quivering. And all the while, we could hear Summer's muffled cries emanating from the pool house, her voice growing frantic as Russell pounded into her with primal abandon. 

The combinations of sensations - the warmth of Sarah's mouth, the distant sounds of Summer being fucked, the urgency of my own impending climax - it was utterly intoxicating.

Once Summer and Russell emerged, flushed and giggling, his still-hard cock indicated to me that he didn't finish. He let Summer cum while she was being railed and held off his own orgasm, what a gentleman! 

Sarah noticed this too, a smile from ear to ear cresting her face, as she impaled herself on him with a sigh of pure bliss. As she began to ride him, Summer leaned in, capturing Sarah's lips in a searing kiss. The sight of those two beauties, their tongues tangling as they shared the lingering flavour of my pussy, was enough to send my curious fingers down to my clit, hurling me towards another mind-blowing orgasm. 

It was a fitting conclusion to a deliciously debauched afternoon. I watched with a mixture of amusement and arousal as Summer, Russell and Sarah hurried into the house. Sarah's round ass was still red from belt strapping she had received the previous night, while Summer's shapely bottom displayed twenty-six vivid stripes from my expert application of the willow switch. 

Just as I was contemplating the various ways I could further torment and tease my willing subjects, the gate swung open, revealing Cassandra and Carley. The two young women, their hands clasped tightly together, looked Gothically radiant as they entered the yard. Cassie took Carley on the usual southern-Ontario tourist haunts, as Carley had never seen or experienced some of the beauties of a Canadian summer. 

Niagara Falls, once heralded as the most romantic place on Earth. I've been there a few times...can't say I agree with that one but I imagine these two made the most of the Fallsview hotel suite they spent a few days in. 

They took in the sights and sounds of bustling Toronto...

And finished off with a romantic and likely passionate few nights in a tent in Algonquin Park. 

As they sweetly held hands in the back yard, their faces were alight with the glow of shared experiences and budding romance. As I observed the tender interactions between these two, I couldn't help but notice an underlying tension that seemed to emanate from Cassie. Her grip on Carley's hand tightened ever so slightly, and there was a subtle furrow in her brow. 

It dawned on me that tonight would be the night she would have to bid farewell to Carley, as she prepared to head back home to the UK. The realization hit me like a punch in the gut, that I would be the one to drive these two to the airport. I couldn't even imagine the emotional upheaval that Cassandra must be experiencing right now. 

As time got closer and the sun set, I approached the living room, the sound of muffled sobs caught my attention. Peering from around the corner, I found Cassandra on her knees, her face buried in Carley's lap as she clung desperately onto her legs. The sight was heartbreaking, a raw display of vulnerability and despair from my sweet Cassie. Her shoulders shook with each ragged sob, her words barely intelligible. 

"Please don't go," she pleaded, her voice hoarse with emotion. "I can't bear to be without you!" Carley stroked Cassandra's hair gently, her own eyes glistening with unshed tears as she tried to comfort her distraught lover. 

As we prepared to depart for the airport, I pulled Cassandra aside and pressed a pair of sunglasses into her hand. She looked at me puzzled, no doubt wondering why she would need them, it was nighttime. But I knew all too well the pain of airport goodbyes. Russell and I experienced many, back in the day and we developed a code-word...a code-word that was: "sunglasses". And Cassandra was about to figure out why...

I watched from a distance, as they shared a final kiss, adamant that rather than saying "goodbye", they chose to tell each other, "until we meet again." The reality of Carley's impending departure hit Cassie like a freight train. With trembling hands, she slipped on the sunglasses I had given her earlier, grateful for the smoky veil of protection that would hide her tears from curious passersby. 

Tears streamed down her face, hidden from view but no less potent in their intensity. We watched in silence as Carley stepped onto the escalator, her figure growing smaller with each passing second until she disappeared from sight. Cassandra turned to me, her body shaking with the force of her sobs, and threw herself into my arms. 

She clutched at me desperately, her fingers digging into my back as if trying to anchor herself in the face of overwhelming grief.

"Andrea, please!" she choked out between gasping breaths, "is it suppose to hurt like this? Do something, Andrea! Don't let her go..."

On the drive home, Cassie just curled into a ball in the front seat, nothing further was said. Rain splattered down against the windshield as I remembered back to my own experiences in that bloody airport, a time when Russell and I both had to don sunglasses on countless occasions. 

The only sound that filled the car was the steady drumming of rain against the windows, a fitting accompaniment to the storm raging within Cassie's heart. She stared blankly out at the water-streaked glass, her eyes vacant and unseeing, lost in the depths of her own despair. 

I couldn't help but wonder what the coming days would bring. Cassandra's fiery temperament, coupled with the searing pain of separation, was a volatile combination. Would she lash out in anger, taking out her rage on the male clients? 

Or would she turn inward, allowing the darkness to consume her entirely? 

Mistress Andrea 😢

xoxo

Continued in: Heathrow

  

 

Interview with Summer cont.

Continued from: Someone's Gonna Get It

We are picking up where we left off, with Summer, being interviewed by some random, male fan of hers from the internet.

Welcome back Summer, thank you for continuing this interview. I hope you're ready for things to get a little more R rated up in here? 

*laughs Of course darling. I'm always ready for a little spice. What have you got in store for me? 

So, when you and Mistress Andrea are home together, and your flight attendant uniform is long-since removed, you are a "little" with her, and you call her "Mommy"? Correct? 

*nods That's correct most of the time, my darling. When we're alone together and with certain company, I become her little girl, and she is my Mommy. It's a dynamic that works well for us. It allows us to explore our desires and fantasies in a safe and consensual way. 

Of course our roles can shift depending on the situation. Sometimes I am a vulnerable and naïve schoolgirl, a slave maid or a bratty teen. Other times, Mistress Andrea might want me in a collar only, pushing my limits and testing my boundaries in the sex dungeon. 

How does Mistress Andrea make you dress when you're "little"? 

Mistress likes to dress me in frilly, feminine clothes that emphasize my youthful appearance. Often, she'll choose a satin dress with a fluffy skirt, paired with delicate matching panties and stockings or socks.

She also loves to put ribbons in my hair and paint my nails with bright, cheerful colours. And of course, no outfit of this kind is complete without a pair of shiny, Mary Jane heels.

Wow. One extreme to the other it would seem?

The look is designed to make me feel like a little girl, innocent and playful. And while it may seem childish to some, it brings me immense pleasure to know that I am pleasing Mommy with my appearance. 

After all, part of being a good little girl is looking the part, isn't it. 

I'll take your word for it. 

And I understand that if you two go out in public, even to the grocery store, she still has you dressed like a little girl? Probably less Lolita/Kawaii than the above, but still embarrassing?

*laughs Well, it depends on where we're going, really. If we're just running errands or going to the grocer, Mommy might dress me in something a bit more subtle - perhaps a sundress and chunky sandals, or a pair of tiny overalls and a tank top. 

But make no mistake, even these outfits are designed to make me look and feel "little". And yes, there is definitely an element of humiliation involved. Knowing that people might be looking at me and wondering why a grown woman is dressed like a little girl. It can be quite thrilling actually.

Such a contrast to your flight attendant, professional and stunning uniforms of control and authority, huh? 

Absolutely, my darling. My role as a flight attendant requires me to project an air of confidence and authority, which is a stark contrast to my submissive nature when I'm with Andrea.

Wearing my crisp, tailored uniform and serving passengers with grace and poise is almost like playing a character - one that bears little resemblance to the kinky, submissively slut that exists beneath the surface.  

It's a fascinating dichotomy, and one that I find endlessly intriguing. 

You mentioned slave-maid? Like domestic chores and such? 

Yes indeed. Domestic service is definitely part of our dynamic. I take great pride in keeping our home immaculate and catering to Andrea's every need. 

Whether I'm cooking her dinner, doing her laundry or simply tidying up after her, I derive immense satisfaction from knowing that I'm contributing to our household and making Andrea's life easier. 

And of course, there are times when she likes to spice things up by adding a BDSM twist to my chores. for example, she might require me to clean the floors on my hands and knees while wearing a collar and leash. Or she will instruct me to serve dinner naked, save for an apron and high heels, or something equally as skimpy. I've even had to vacuum the house with a butt plug in my ass!

Do you have any idea how sexy and adorable you are? 

*blushes Don't be silly, young man. 

What is your favourite of all your submissive "looks"? 

Oh wow. It's difficult to pick just one. I would have to say dressing up like a schoolgirl, complete with a plaid skirt, white blouse and knee high socks. Sometimes I even wear my hair in pigtails.

It's a look that never fails to bring out Andrea's inner teacher, and let's just say she's not afraid to give me a good, hard spanking when I misbehave.

How does Andrea dress when it's a "school day" for you, Summer? 

Oh, poule boss! How do you say en Anglais?....ummm, Boss Bitch, is that correct? Poule boss literally means boss hen *giggles. If she reads this I'm in so much trouble! Maybe edit this one out for me and for the sake of my bare bum, please? 

Sure thing, Summer. 

Merci. 

( *under my breath*: "ya, whatever") 

Mistress wears what I like to call "the hairbrush outfit". It's a stomach-sinking, colour draining from my face realization that I'll soon be over her knee and the ebony hairbrush will be held in her lap. It's dreadful to see her dressed like this when it's just her and I home. It's the outfit she typically wears for her male and female spanking clients, if they haven't requested something more roleplayed.  

Yep...that's certainly intimidating. 

It makes me love her even more, when she cares enough to be strict with me and not let me off the hook. 

You two fell in love in New Orleans, didn't you? This story is called btw: The Big Easy

I think it was long before that, but oui, New Orleans was definitely an emotional weekend. We had just finished an intense BDSM scene in the hotel room, and both of our bodies were still thrumming with pleasure and adrenaline. 

As we lay there, in each others arms, Andrea started to cry. She said she didn't know how to say goodbye to me anymore, that every time we parted ways, it felt like a piece of her was being ripped away. 

I held her close and whispered in her ear that we would always find our way back to each other, no matter what. 

Later that night we had been walking along the banks of the Mississippi River, the moonlight reflecting off the water and creating a magical atmosphere. Andrea has been unusually quiet throughout the evening, lost in her thoughts. 

Finally, she stopped walking and turned to face me. Her eyes were filled with emotion, and as she spoke, a single tear rolled down her cheek. "Summer," she said, "I love you." 

May I get you a tissue, Summer? 

Merci, thank you. 

I think we should wrap it there, Summer, that was beautiful and informative. On behalf of your fans we all love you. We wish you and Mistress Andrea the very best in your wild dynamics and your marriage. 

Thank you for allowing me to share my experiences with you and your readers. I hope that our discussion has provided some insight into the world of BDSM and the dynamic that Andrea and I share. We will continue to explore the depths of our kinky desires, pushing boundaries and discovering new ways to satisfy each other. We are grateful for your well wishes. 

Au revior, until we meet again. 🎀

Continued in: Tara Gregory: Early days