Another salon appointment had come round again. Certain parts of my body really were in need of being waxed, including my chest, part of my bum that wasn’t ready last time, and my arms which were making me feel like a monster. They were the worst they had been in a long time. The arms were SO bad that I had contemplated wearing a fleece just to cover them up.
Back at the salon, I was ushered into the inner sanctuary that is the treatment room – soft lighting, relaxing music, warmth from the heater making it easy to strip off.
I was early for my appointment, the traffic into the town centre having been kind. I stripped off but the battle resumed between the inner consciences.
On one shoulder, the angel – pressing for the position to be assumed – just any form of bodily contact with the treatment table would suffice please.
On the other shoulder, the devil – Fiona’s evidently resurgent self perhaps, fighting back from over 2 years of being suppressed after the pandemic struck and knocked her into the proverbial long grass.
I was back in the same position as before. Out of line of sight of the main salon floor for when the door was opened, one end of the treatment table, in front of a full length mirror.
Gentle patting of my tiny flaccid cock began again whilst the angel really insisted that I assumed the position as I needed the waxing to be done. I heard the voice within alright but I also seemed to be craving his lustful attention when he came in the room. General commotion could be heard beyond the door from other salon customers on the way in or out. I could hear him exchanging chat and pleasantries whilst waiting – anticipating his arrival.
The rushing of blood to my little cock ebbed and flowed. I stopped then resumed the gentle patting. He soon entered the room and remarked far more directly than before that he knew I was ready for him and ready for some playtime if I was standing upon his arrival.
He was soon working my cock to hardness taking breaks to caress my bum curves, extending the sweep of a hand through to my perineum, balls and cock. Occasionally, he’d move and brush a hand across or tweak my nipples, using his sub as he saw fit.
Without speaking, I offered myself further by seductively swinging my hips or making my bum more prominent and of focus for him.
I upped the ante by lifting a leg and placing the foot on the treatment table, gazing at the full length mirror and watching him work on his willing, eager and naked sub.
I changed legs to offer a more direct view into the mirror that he knew only too well that I had a kink about. I revelled in the image reflected before me, knowing it was me that was being used for his pleasure.
I moved a hand to his fastened jeans and rubbed the hardness through the material. I feigned an attempt at undoing which was the signal he needed to unfasten his jeans.
I was in no mood to wait to bring his cock to hand and started slipping a hand down the front of his boxers but he was soon taking them down too.
I led. He moved in, body to body, cock to cock, and I led the frotting, breaking off loosening the grip then resuming. This went on for a few minutes but my mind had one thing within. I wanted his cock in my mouth. I battled with the urge for a minute or two before finally giving in to the desire.
I dropped to my knees and began to service him, deep throating, licking the tip and slit, down the top of the shaft with the foreskin pulled back. I could hear his moans of pleasure and occasionally looked up into his eyes to connect further and signal my lustful intent to serve and give him pleasure, my own cock submissively going more limp and unimportant in that moment.
I wanted his cock. I wanted to just suck it and keep on sucking it. Nothing else seemed to matter – only it did – my body waxing – but the urge to suck cock for as long and as sluttily as possible was driving me on.
After a while, he ushered me to take a seat, perhaps concluding that his sub was not too comfortable kneeling before him.
I quickly followed the order and resumed sucking him, his continual moans of pleasure, breathy moments, my hand cupping and patting his balls, hands reaching round to squeeze his bum cheeks.
He pulled away briefly as pre-cum started to ooze. I briefly took him back into my mouth to savour the consistency and flavour. He pulled out again and swept more pre-cum on to a finger before feeding his sub as if he were training it ready to take his full load down its throat and into the pit of its stomach.
(I relished being fed his pre-cum as, on a previous occasion, (see a previous blog entry), he’d swept a quantity of mine on to a finger, and I was convinced he was going to feed his sub, only to take it to his own mouth. But, in the aftermath, I was honoured and he said I tasted good. We were both feeding from my oozing cock anyway from that point on.)
I digress – again.
My oral work was intent on driving him to orgasm and had he have started to cum in my mouth, I was, I acknowledged, a willing cum dump receptacle for what would have been the first time I had swallowed another man’s load.
Ever the sub, I followed instructions for another position change. He lay on the treatment table himself and I resumed deep throating him, positioning myself diagonally against the table, bum near his head, legs spread, inviting him to use me further and to finger fuck his sub.
He broke off to begin bringing me off and moments later, a large quantity of creamy semen powered out of my milked cock and splattered the floor as my mouth bobbed up and down on his cock.
Moments later, I began giving him hand relief but he took over as I began caressing and patting his balls and perineum, which he relished, the teasing bringing him to a body shuddering climax, his load shooting out, running down and covering my fingers as they cupped and caressed his balls.
The clean up began after the latest sexual encounter was brought to an end, a large quantity of paper towels needed to sweep up my load. Such was his elation and celebration from what had just happened, he asked me whether I’d been in some sort of training or something to be able to do what I did to satisfy him so sufficiently.
I humbly but gratefully and graciously said that I just did what I did, no reading up, no text books, no internet searches but that I had somehow picked things up over the years and it was all just somewhere up top. We mused that men knew how to suck cock, because they knew how they would like to be sucked.
I was nevertheless flattered that I could satisfy him in the way that I evidently had. It was not about me – I was serving him – but I had, of course, very much enjoyed the moment.
You could argue that I had set the agenda and given all the signals that led to the 30 minute period of sex by presenting in a naked, semi erect and clearly ‘ready’, state, rather than being ready for the body wax.
Enjoyable though it was, it turned out, somewhat to my surprise and masked disappointment, that there was virtually no time left for the treatment. I had not envisaged anything less than an hour in my special place. Some partial waxing was completed in time he concluded was still available, but to all intents and purposes, I was out of time, the evidence for some body hair removal still evident.
I was left to dress alone as the last drops of cum continued to drip from my milked cock. I used a towel to wipe the floor again before dressing.
Frustratingly, the next available appointment turned out to be weeks away.
In the days afterwards, taking issue with the outstanding need for treatment, I have since been able to reschedule sooner, but a submissive fire has been lit within once more of late, but with no outlet, no ability to crossdress, lock in chastity or plug to vent the urges that rage within.
Having said that, there was a chance, home alone for time the other day to try on my chastity devices and on another day, to plug with my remote control device and enjoy. But I remain highly sexually charged right now and am beginning to try and fathom strategies to partially resume my kinks that were halted in March 2020.
Those feelings have been suppressed today due to the need to attend to the day job and because I cannot indulge these days.
However, I don’t think that I have ever felt more frustrated as a submissive than I have today, urge swamped by inability and it is only a junk food meal and distraction TV that have eased those feelings.
The next rescheduled and much sooner appointment offers similar opportunities to submit but it needs to be without being out of time for the ‘other’ reason I visit the salon and that is for my own mental well-being. Waxing first, sex second.
I’m a sub though, and I acknowledge that it isn’t about me but I need to be happy on how I present. As many will say, a sub should be ready, smooth bodied, and well presented. No time to be out of time.