March 29, 1969 was the day I was born. (How cool is it I was born in ’69!!!) Therefore, a few days ago, I turned 48… complete MILF material, right?
I’ve told a few of you, but I have a real life subby boy now! I’ve been in Miami for almost 2.5 years and finally found someone who gave me shivers of desire and who gave himself to me to use however I want to, whenever I want to. More details about his submission another time.
For my birthday, he came over to bake me a cake, from scratch! Chocolate, with chocolate frosting. There is nothing better than having a service submissive to cook and clean up after making me my special yummies.
His instructions are to always undress when he enters the house… I keep a set of drawers in the closet right inside the door for his clothes and shoes. Once naked, I attach his stainless steel collar and lock it closed.
My birthday evening, I allowed him to wear an apron over his nakedness; a pretty pink, vintage, sheer half apron. Not being remotely sissy-like, the image of him in this apron was everything I’d hoped it would be. He’s huge and covered in hair all over his body; the rose-colored skirt barely fit around his waist.
I laughed aloud.
My Birthday Cake
Even though he was in the kitchen baking, I made him abandon his project every once in awhile to wander out into the living room and model for me… literally like a runway model… puckered duck lips, one hand on his hip as he swayed his bare bottom sideways like a pendulum. I laughed and clapped every time.
Before long, I was presented with a beautiful, rich chocolate cake with a thick layer of frosting.
I ordered my boy to go get a piece of cake for himself, too. He dashed to the kitchen and came back with a hefty piece.
“Perfect,” I thought.
He picked up the fork and I said, “Stop right there, my boy.” He stopped moving immediately. (Such a good, good boy he is!)
I took bites of the lovely dark cake and moaned softly several times. “The cake is delicious!”
“Thank you, Mistress,” and his face lit up into a lovely submissive smile.
He was still sitting with his fork mid-air and I said, “Put your fork down on the floor, please.” He followed my orders easily and quickly.
I took another bite, turned my head to the side a little, lowering my voice so he would listen hard, and said, “Pick up a piece of cake with your first three fingers and thumb.” He did as he was told and held the piece aloft while I chuckled watching crumbs fall off the moist cake looking like sooty snow falling onto the floor.
I know he thought I was either going to have him eat it with his hands or feed it to me with his hands. Ha!
“Stroke your cock, boy.”
He looked at me kind of shocked, but knew not to make me say it again and reached down with his cake-filled hand… and smashed the piece onto his cock . I laughed and laughed and clapped like I was watching a Broadway play.
I hollered out, “Stroke!!!” and he began to slide his crumb-y hand up and down, making the biggest fucking mess onto the wooden floors. “You will be cleaning that up, you know.” “I know, Mistress. I don’t mind.”
“Grab more cake!!” A phrase I said 2 more times before he said he was getting close to orgasm.
I dashed across the floor and quickly took his entire dick in my mouth, giving him a chocolate blow-job he will never forget. (Or me, for that matter!)
When he came, I held the cum and crumbs in my mouth, lifted up and kissed him deeply, sharing his cum and my birthday cake.
It was delicious.