I will not cry, for my Master is near. My Master will come for me. I hear footfalls crunching the fallen leaves. He is here. My Master says nothing, b...t I feel him in the air. I hear the snap of scissors, opening and closing. I feel the taut hem of my dress relax as it is cut slowly up the middle. I feel the coldness of the back of the scissor blade as it slides between my breasts, snipping upward until at last it parts my dress completely.The material falls to the side, exposing me. The chill. I walked over to the bar and ordered two Ketel One and tonics. I looked back at my wife, admiring her poise and slender bare neck, which led the eye down to well presented cleavage, but far from improper. She exuded such confidence and control, at the same time showing over twenty-five inches of leg. She had mastered the fine art of using her body to hold a man's attention, but subtly enough that his wife could be standing right there. Quite a change from the unisex-pantsuit days of toiling. She remembered the feeling as he pushed the plug hard into her, how painful it had been but she had been determined to endure it to please him. She’d told him that she wanted it in her, to have him insert it, make her have it and only her safe word was going to be the bar. He’d taken her at her word and had forced the huge thing into her arse and then fucked her cunt. She smiled at the memory of it, being double penetrated, the feeling of being completely full. Then he’d pulled the plug out and. And then he did. Only a little escaped down over my chin. He seemed to have more come than usual, but I took it in, and swallowed it slowly, savoring the taste. Then his flaccid cock fell out of my mouth, sated. We both smiled at each other, happy in our mutual act. I think I was the only person who ever really satisfied him. The anthem was coming to an end, he tucked his cock into his pants, pulled his frock back down and headed back to the sanctuary to deliver his sermon. At The Peep Show I.
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