Monday morning and we woke late, still buzzing from the incredible play we had at the Argos the night before. We lay in bed, snuggled together in the warmth - the pup lying spooned in his Man's arms and both of us talking quietly about the weekend and its adventures, not wishing to break the magical mood of peace and silence.
Sir nuzzled my neck, and whispered into my ear 'Have I told my dog how much I love him?' - which had me hugging His enfolding arm and growling in pleasure. Then, since it seemed the perfect time for 'confessions', I quietly told Him how much I love him - on every level from Master to mentor and friend; of how I feel that I have changed so much for the better from knowing Him, and that I am a better person when I am with Him. That He has helped me to be who I wanted to be - as pup, as boy, and as a man. I couldn't help but break a few confidences, and tell Him that I am not the only one to think He is a genuinely special person: a rare breed of Gentleman who's grace and humour makes those around Him feel special - and those He chooses to play with feel respected and loved.
But most of all, I told Him how proud I am to be collared and loved by Him - and that I cannot express how good it feels to know that He feels the same.
All of which threatened to have us both in tears again, so Sir wisely distracted us by turning me to face Him so that He could kiss my nose - then pushed me down the bed to 'show some of that gratitude to My cock!'
Nuzzling and kissing, I poured all my emotion and love into giving Him as much pleasure as I could: letting myself become absorbed in the sensations I was giving Him with my tongue and lips and beard - feeling for the subtle twitches and pulses and kicks of His body's response, and letting them guide me as to what to lick, where to rub, when to kiss... Like the flogging before, I allowed my service of Him to bond us into one - feeling the energy that flowed between us in thick ribbons of sensation and response - letting them flow and redouble, reflect and refract until we were lost in a rainbow cascade of passion and arousal.
Sir had be pull down on His balls as I worked His cock with my tongue - stroking them down over HIs G spot until I could hold them down and then stroke my fingers around His hole; but that brought my nose down into the warm fug of His man-scent - and soon had me growling and humping His chest as I tried to burry my tongue into that sweet hot ring of pleasure...
The intensity of His scent, the pure animal perversity of eating my Man's hole, the incredible feeling of His furry chest rubbing against my sensitive cock head - and my Man's voice whispering 'It's alright pup, go on - do it - good boy!' - I was lost in puppy heaven. When my Man then started to stroke and rub my own hole, I couldn't hold my excitement back any longer - and buried my face deep into His arse as my throbbing cock spat hot gobs of puppy-cum over His chest and neck; it pooled into the hollow of His collar bone, were Sir gathered it up in His fingers, and then used it as lube to push His fingers deep into my still twitching hole...
All of which made for quite a mess, so Sir had the pup trot into the bathroom and into the shower on all fours - then gave him a proper suds-full puppy-bath that had us both giggling and laughing (and the puppy hard all over again...).
Then it was time to gear up and head out for breakfast at last.
We headed back to Mr.B's first - to exchange the pup's newly bought xs jockstrap for a larger size, but also to give them a proper final farewell! Then it was back to the hotel for a frantic bit of packing (careful weighing and repacking - trying to distribute all the pup's new leather purchases so as not to exceed our 40kg in-hold allowance on Easyjet...!) before checking out and leaving our cases in the luggage room.
We had a good four hours to kill before our flight, so decided to take nice long final stroll through the city - first down to La Place at V&D for our now customary last-day salad and juices, then slowly wending our way back to the station through the University and then the Jordan - pen shopping and sightseeing, with the pup taking photos all the way as the city slowly sank into dusk and then night.
We finally ended up on the Haarlemme Dyke, and stopped for one last sup of tea and tarts at a sweet little Brood shop there (noticing how the lights picked out the tops of the buildings for the first time - and joining a couple of tourists in snapping a photo of a cat in the curiously sexual window display of an opticians...!)
Then it was time to make our way back to collect our cases from the hotel and catch our train back to Schiphol.
Our passage through the airport was amazingly smooth - although we did have the passport control guy make a complimentary remark on our leathers, and asking if we'd enjoyed our bike tour, to which Sir replied with a grin 'No - we always dress like this; but you should have had more guys dressed like us this weekend already: it's been Leather Pride in your lovely city. But then, you're obviously straight, so maybe you wouldn't know...'. ;)
Sir also craftily left my collar on as we went through security - which had the dog setting off all the alarms; the woman sternly told me to take off my collar and go back through, but I had to answer 'I don't have the key - my Master does, and He's already gone through' - which made me both blush and feel incredibly proud. They were surprisingly understanding, and let me go through the body scanner instead, although they did also give me a thorough pat down, which was nice...
The flight back over nighttime Amsterdam was truly beautiful - even with the clouds and a little turbulence - and I tried to take photos of the city lights through the clouds. We also got to see fireworks as we passed over London - bursting like tiny time-lapse flowers far below.
Sir made us wait to let the crush off first, so we were almost the last off the plane - and then I realised that I had forgotten my iPad and had to sprint back, past the startled ground-crew. t was OK though: the Air Stewardess was very sweet, and kindly went back to hunt along the isles - whilst the pilot laughed that I shouldn't be embarrased since he's lost track of how many people do the same, and hoped we had enjoyed the flight and the fireworks - then wished us a safe journey home.
It was so cold in Bristol, especially after Amsterdam - and there was ice on the car and grit on the roads. It was late too - but that meant that we had a beautiful drive home with the moon rising beside us as we took a short detore through Clifton, with the suspension bridge glowing and reflected in the waters below the equal of anything we had seen in Amsterdam.
A quick hello to Sir's Geoff - then a weary (snuffly!) drive home to my own Geoff - waiting up past midnight to welcome me home: tired but so incredibly happy.