Branding?

Molly and Mick had one of those kink worlds / vanilla worlds collide experiences on Monday night. We were out at a local road house style restaurant, listening to some local musicians, watching the boot scooters on the dance floor. We had a big table for 15 – our teens, the friends from Florida, and some other folks from Texas who we have come to know in our travels here over the years.

Nice folks, but a bit dull compared to our friends out there in the bog-o-verse.

When I was served my hamburger, the guy next to me, a Houstonian stockbroker who poses as a cowboy out here in the Mountain Zone, but just can’t pull it off, points out that my bun was “branded” with the logo of the restaurant.

I looked to Molly, sitting on the other side of me, across the table from our friend Joe.

“Look,  dear,  they branded my bun… I bet you’d like to do that to me?”

Without missing a beat, Mistress knew the punch line….

“You’re right….. you deserve to be branded…. Right on your Ass.”

It was one of those rare moments when our friend Joe was left speechless.

(By the way, this is the same Joe who got all flustered by Mistress's lovely feet during our last Holiday season here. The link is here:Mistress's feet get special attention.

And Molly was probably already wondering about the practicalities of getting a branding iron with her name on it.

On the other hand, Molly and Mick do have some vanilla days of their own, particularly when our quaint cabin is filled with our surly teens and a boyfriend.

But that’s not to say that vanilla can’t have it’s rewards.

We had some warm and tender sex yesterday morning, after  Mistress read our blog and several others. But on the ski lift, Mistress had a question. Apparently she was reviewing her mental notes.

“Slave”, she whispered, assuming that the teen’s I-Pod would dampen all but the loudest conversation, “did you ask permission this morning?”

I thought a moment. And had a very specific recollection.

“Yes,  I am sure I did…. You have me well programmed.”

“As you should be….”

After another day of skiing in unusually bright and warm sunshine, we retreated back to our cabin with a blessed night without visitors to entertain or social engagements to make.

That meant a long “nap” time for the parents. Of course, the teens think we are beyond boring.  And we did nap.  For a while.

I remember waking with Mistress cuddled next to me, one leg over mine. The last light of the sun was turning the mountain outside our window a blazing red, and illuminating a stand of willows just beyond our patio.

Of course, we should have stumbled out of bed and into the yard to get the full gorgeous sunset effect.

But the warmth and attraction of Mistress’s lush and opulent body was just too compelling.

As wecame awake, it seemed our limbs began to instinctively intertwine, and I took one of her firm nipples in my mouth for some prolonged suckling.

“Mmmmm…. Nice, Slave”.

We muttered endearments, my hand ultimately sliding between her legs. She was already ripe there, her desire ready to be plucked. And my fingers soon had their way, making her gasp and pump against them.

“I want you to fuck me now, Slave.”

“Glad you asked, Mistress.”

And be assured, I did ask permission.