Rising to the (Perceived) Challenge

Sunday was busy here, once Mistress was released from her bonds, the Hitachi was stowed and the bright orange extension cord was spooled and parked in the corner of the bedroom for future contingencies.

First, we went on a long bike ride, down into what we call “the hole” a strange geological accident a mile or two down the road from our cabin.

. “The hole” is bordered by mountains on one side, and a mesa on the other. It seems to be  an ancient lake bed with one rocky end long since blown out, allowing the lake to drain. Now it accommodates green pastures at the banks of an arroyo still flowing strong with the lingering snow melt. 

(The photo shows Mistress looking down toward the end of the Hole, after having finished the climb out, way ahead of me, I might add.)

It’s a long (mostly) downhill roller coaster ride to the bottom, leading to  a long, challenging hill climb back out. The altitude, at  7500 feet, adds to the challenge.

I consider that climb out of the hole a pass/fail test to determine that Mick does not need an angioplasty anytime soon.  So far I have passed.

But if you go that way, it’s with one hell of a view.

After that adventure, we took the kids on a five mile hike up to a nearby alpine lake. The payoff is the 300 degree view of snow dabbled peaks at about 11, 500 feet.

While they groused a bit on the way up, all of our legs seemed to get  some new life on the way down, anticipating  a rendezvous with some strudel and fries at a scenic Inn at the foot of the trail.

By the time we got home it was Mistress and Slave’s nap  time. This time it seemed a good idea to do the nap first, BEFORE the good part.  I was plum tuckered out.

And although I offered Mistress my tongue and fingers, I made it fairly clear that I had doubts about whether her cock was prepared to enter the fray any time soon.

She seemed tired too, and demurred on my offers.

Both of us had stripped off the hiking attire and were naked in bed, cuddled together, considering whether to read a bit first, or just close our eyes.  Then the text message on Mistress’s phone jarred us.

It was M, our Western Correspondent, checking in. Mistress hopped out of bed. Read, and tapped a response.

“I told him it was nap time, Slave.”

Back into bed. Settling a bit more comfortably into one another. 

“Chime”.

Mistress hops out to read next message.

“He says “LOL….”. I guess he knows what happens at “nap time” around here.”

She tapped some more.

“I told him Slave is blowing me off, at least for now.”

Well, I must say that got a rise out of me. No Slave likes to think they have let their Mistress down.

When she got back in bed this time, I found myself nibbling on her nipples: A practice probably not conducive to shut eye.

The text chime went off again.

“Slave, I’m telling him I am signing off for now.”

When Mistress slid under the sheets, her hands slid between my legs.  She must have been amused by what she discovered.

“Hmmm….I think all that texting with M got you going, Slave.”

“I suppose I considered all that talk about me ‘blowing you off’ a bit of a challenge to your Slave’s manhood, Mistress…”

Mistress tried to walk that back a bit, and her comment to M probably was more a part of their own little sexy repartee than a slap at my serviceability. But, whatever,  it did have its effect.

Somehow my cock had bounced back from the ride, the hike and the big stein of wheat beer at the trail  head. I  was ready and able to perform with just a tad more coaxing.

‘Slave, just so it’s clear: you’ve had your switch day and it’s over now. Go put in your device, and get back here.”

“Yes, Mistress.”

Well, that helped. By the time I had lubed up the aneros and slid it where it belongs, Mistress was commenting on how thick and useful my tool had become.

And she made sure to put it to good use.

After that, it really was naptime.

“