Loving Master's Pearls

I sit here, waiting for my Master to take a break from his work, to phone me. I need his permission, for my release, to touch myself, and to scream his title while I cum. I am almost in tears, my hips rocking back and forth, feeling the strand of large, baroque pearls he ordered me to insert into my hot and wet pussy this morning. I doubled the strand and ran the two ends up either side of my clit, per my Master's order. As I had to run errands, I was then made to put on my tightest jeans, and ankle boots with three inch stacked heels, so my pelvis would tilt upwards and back, further enhancing the sweet torment of the pearls. Getting into the car was interesting, I was forced to sit down, then swivel my hips to get behind the wheel, and this prevented the pearls from slipping, giving me a small orgasm each time. I was allowed to go forth sans a bra, and caught myself playing with my left nipple while shopping. Master said that was fine, it turned him on to think I was doing such while in public.

My errands finished, I begged Master to let me cum, but he has expressly forbidden it, stating my punishment will be to not taste his gorgeous black cock when he gets here; and therein lies the crux: Master lives over three hundred miles away, and we've yet to fuck. He and I have known each since school, we were on opposite sides of the building, but would run across each other upon occasion. Just before we graduated, Master approached me one day, and gave me the very best kiss I've ever experienced, rocking my world, and leaving me to yearn for more for the past thirty-five years. We've both married, Master's marriage did not last, and mine has endured. I love my husband dearly, but he is vanilla ice cream compared to Master's dark chocolate. It wasn't until a month ago I had the courage to tell Master how I still recall that kiss, thirty-five years ago. He was floored, saying he wanted to do more, but never had the chance. We began talking daily, and I mentioned how sexy his voice is. When we got to talking about music, my main passion, we discovered we love the same groups and songs, 'The Dramatics', 'The Whispers', 'The Manhattans', 'Freddie Jackson'... Songs perfect for seduction, slow and romantic. My husband's idea of seductive music: Nothing, which isn't necessarily a bad thing, as he isn't into music as much as I am.

One morning, Master asked me if it would offend me if he told him how he'd like to make love to me. I was very intrigued, naturally, and told him so. What he described was toe curling: He wanted to stretch my arms over my head, and tie my wrists to the headboard with a silk sash. He then would run his tongue up and down my slit, till I was dripping into his mouth, then kiss me, to let me taste myself and him mingled together. He'd then nip my nipples, lightly at first, then harder, to get my juices flowing even more. He'd return to my crotch, and give me a tongue fucking, making sure I came in his mouth, then he'd oh, so slowly, slide into me with his penis, stopping to let me adjust to his size; having had no children, I'm still very tight; a pussy shot via cellphone delighted Master, who worries I may be too small for him, though my husband is average size.

Master promised to teach me how to squirt, something I've never done before. Just hearing his description was enough to send me over the edge, but I was too bashful to let Master hear my cries of ecstasy. After we got the phone with each other, I let myself cum, and cum hard. The next morning, Master told me he'd love to hear my voice screaming his name, and I asked him to seduce me over the phone again. This time, I didn't hold back, and while I had my fingers inside me, squirted! I was so shocked, and aroused, I came again, instantly, screaming his name into the phone. Master was so pleased, knowing he was the first person to get me to squirt, ever. I sent him a photo of the wet spot on my bed, and Master returned a shot of his beautiful black cock, with a drop of ejaculate on the head. I told him it was a pearl of love, and how I longed to be there, to curl my tongue around it, and savor it. Just talking about it made me cum again, and Master said I was the hottest woman he'd ever heard.

Jokingly, he said he'd have to find a way to slow me down, so he could go more than one round with me. I was due to run errands, but was so engorged, I didn't want to wear panties, and kiddingly asked Master if I had to do so. He said yes, it would be sweet torture, then asked about the strand of baroque pearls I'd posted a photo of on a social site. One thing led to another, and I became enamored of the pearls. It was then I began calling him Master, instead of his given name, and now each phone call, text, email, chat involves me calling him thus, which is a huge turn-on for Master, I am his very first slave, and the fact I'm white makes it even better for his desires.

Every morning, after my husband leaves for his job, Master calls my cellphone, and gives me my orders for the day... What to wear, what to do to myself, and whether or not I can be in the bed, or outside in the backyard. He loves getting photos of my white cunt, seeing how engorged and red the lips get just from hearing his voice whisper in my ear. This week, our neighbor is getting a new roof, and Master wants me outside, so the workers can hear my moans. One weekend soon, Master will come visit me, and we will fuck all day long, for three straight days, during which time he will introduce me to anal sex. I anticipate not being able to walk afterwards, and I go weak in the knees just thinking about it.

Please, Master, please, phone me so I can cum!