By now some of you may be thinking this is getting a little tedious…..Molly and Mick, no surly teens to deal with, figuring different ways to have sex and/or consume intoxicating substances.
Are you thinking, maybe they should go back to work, like the rest of you hard working bloggers (and blog lurkers) out there. Or at least spare us their fun.
It could be that even our Western Correspondent might be getting a little tired of our routine of non-stop debauchery. After all he has a job and kids to attend to this week back in the big City.
Not that he wasn’t invited to join in and expand the fun.
Maybe the polite thing to do would be to post a notice that Mick and Molly are on vacation and will report back on their return to River City. But we do feel a need to keep on slogging with the blog, and to find new things to report to you about.
Here is the compromise: in the interest of not boring you with the routine sexual couplings of an almost 60 professional and his younger and very sexy wife, I will just skip to some highlights of our day that did not involve the normal worshipping, fucking, moaning and writhing.
8 am – Morning sex behind us, Mistress is already out on our secluded patio, giving the decorative horses next door their daily show, writing her vanilla blog naked (bt for sun glasses) typing away at our picnic table. I snap a photo and hope she will not acquire a splinter on her tender tush.
10:00 am- after a hearty bike ride through our rolling, high altitude terrain, Mistress is lounging on her chaise, naked once again, working on tan line elimination. Her text message chime goes off.
“It’s M, Slave, do you mind if I call him.”
It’s polite of her to ask, but she is entitled to call anyone she wishes, whenever she wishes.
I am reading my book. She is chatting away about our day’s plans and her naked state.
But, undisciplined Slave that I can be, I could not help by chime in at a point a few minutes into their conversation.
“Mistress, you may want to tell him where your hand is placed right now.”
I don’t think she was conscious that her hand was parked between her legs, oh so gently moving back and forth.
“Slave is pointing out to me that my hand is between my legs, M. I guess I hadn’t noticed.”
“And you get very squirmy when you talk to him too, Mistress. In case he is interested.”
“He says I get squirmy too….”
That’s when their conversation went in a different direction.
“Really ….now …..right here?”
Mistress body arches a bit, her legs spread a little more wantonly.
“He wants me to play with myself, Slave….,,” she says, almost apologetically.
But there was nothing to apologize for.
“Would you two lovebirds like me to excuse myself?”
“He wants to know if he should watch, M. …….
He says you should stay, Slave.”
That when Mistress’s fingers began to do their work, slowly rubbing away at her clit, a nice vertical motion, gentle, but apparently effective.
She was listening intently, and while I had no clue as to the words M was using to suck her deeper into her erotic trance, I could hear her responses to him
Phrases like….”Yes….”
“I would……”
“Ummmm….”
“I would like that…..”
“Yes, you could.”
And then, Mistress’s head was thrown back, and she was using the muscles in pelvis and arm to press her churning fingers and writhing cunt more closely together, moaning into the phone…coming at his command.
As she came down, Mistress looked to me for my reaction. She couldn’t see that my cock was twitching a bit on my shorts.
“He has you very well trained, Mistress.”
“Slave says you are training me well, M. And it’s true….”
2 pm- Molly and Mick went to a lunch to hear a favorite author in a nearby town. After getting a collection of books signed, we were heading home.
“M just sent me a text, Slave. He says I should do something kinky to my Slave…maybe a spanking. Or a good ass fucking. What do you think about that?”
“Well I guess he’s looking out for my best interests, Mistress.”
“I wouldn’t want to disobey orders, Slave.. So when we get home be prepared.”
“Yes, Mistress.”
We took advantage of the late afternoon sun a bit, then as the sun was trending lower in the sky, Mistress told me it was time. We adjourned to our bedroom.
“Get out my harness, Slave.”
I was happy to comply. And its always interesting to see how enthusiastically Mistress comes as she pumps into me.
After we were done, Mistress was solicitous.
“Did you like that, Slave?”
“Of course, Mistress?”
“Why, Slave?”
“It reminds me that I am your Slave….get’s me in a better, more submissive frame of mind.”
“That’s good, Slave.”
I suppose M knew that when he sent this “suggestion” to Mistress.
10 pm- Mistress and Slave stagger in from an evening with friends at a local restaurant. We sat out on this charming patio, heard music, and consumed a variety of intoxicants, along with some crispy sweet potato fries.
We seemed to be way too loopy for sex, and I had certainly had my day’s quota. But as we did some web surfing, I pointed Mistress to a post by Remittance Girl, on the potential for addiction and desensitization from too much vibrator use.
So far, this does not seem to be a problem for Mistress, but she does like that Power Tool.
Mistress read through the thoughtful and well written article, laughing at parts. Then handed me the computer.
“What do you think, Mistress.”
“I think I want you to plug it in and use it on me right now, Slave.”
Mistress is the scrappy type who embraces FDR’s warning that “we have nothing to fear but fear itself.” Apparently fear of Hitachi addiction is not high on her list.
The light was out as I applied the tool, which made for an interesting and somewhat frustrating experience. I had a little difficulty finding the optimal target in the dark, so Mistress’s hand helped guide me. With no light ,I could sense and feel, but not see, the wanton writhing of Mistress’s legs and pelvis as she sought out the one additional orgasms of the day that Remittance Girl had reminded her she needed.
Bottom line: Mistress went crazy. Then came with the type of needy desperation that suggested it had been weeks, not a few hours since her last one.
So, credit an assist to Remittance Girl.
And maybe I should invest in some night vision goggles.
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