The rain made me do it

It rained all day today. It was dark and nasty and rainy and all I could think about was the sadist and his cock and my mouth and his hand around my throat and the flogger on my pussy and crawling and nakedness and curling up next to him, my nakedness and his nakedness and the warmth of our bodies against the cold of the day and the red of my spanked butt against the grey of the sky.

His body.

His body on mine.

His body crushing mine into the futon, pressing into mine as I struggled beneath his weight and his dominance and his desire.

His mouth.
My mouth.
His cock in my mouth.

I had an image - not just a mind image but a whole body evocation - we were lying naked on a bed, in a room warm enough for us to have pushed back the blankets, we were lying curled up and naked, curled up on our sides, and my head was down below his belly and his cock was in my mouth and I held his cock in my mouth and I fondled his cock with my tongue and I sucked his cock sweetly, pensively, as if it were a pacifier that brought me contentment and peace.

Eventually, of course, I had to perform.

I'm a damn good cocksucker.

The sadist was very busy today, he told me from the start that he would be very busy today, but still I flooded his Inbox with expressions of my desire to be near him, all the while thinking of that play by Brecht in which this solider finds himself a slave to his cock. It's the rain. Whenever it rained he'd grow hard. It ruled him. It interfered. And finally he did the only thing he could do.

He lopped it off.

Which seems rather extreme.

So instead I dealt with my distraction by bombarding my Master with distracting e-mails and resisting the urge to let the Irishman know that I was around and available. So instead the Irishman contacted me. And came over. I wasn't the only one being made crazy by the rain.

And he agrees.
I'm a damn good cocksucker.