Settling In.

Yesterday started like most days for Molly and Mick – I rose early, wrote my bog for all of you, then shared it with Mistress before some early morning sex. Mistress was wearing this sexy light green outfit, something I gifted to her several Christmas’s past. I love the sheer fabric of those panties, which allow me to taste her succulent juices, even before sliding them off.

We are still adjusting after the great drive of 2010, so passed on Switch Day. Mistress gave me a rain check for later this week, always something valuable to have.

After rousting the kids, we headed up the mountain for our first family ski day of the season. We’ve become fair weather skiers these last few years – spoiled by abundant sunshine and pristine snow. But yesterday was hardly “fair”. Overcast. Wind. Snow.

So I knew it would be a short day for my three Divas.

And that probably worked for the best, since M was interested in an afternoon “date” with Mistress.

“Do you mind if we leave a little earlier so he and I can “talk”, Slave.

“Of course not, Mistress. It’s too damn wet and cold up here anyway.”

M, M and M clicked over the audacious tales of his pre-marital sexual exploits that he began sharing with us via email about this time last year.

It turns out in runs in the family. As we were sliding into our boots yesterday morning in the locker room of our local ski resort, Mistress shared the latest.

“M sent me an email saying his brother was at a party last night and stuck a finger up the asses of three women there?”

Hmmmm. This seemed almost too fantastical, even for kin of the WC.

“We need to know more details, Mistress.”

“I suspect he will share during our date this afternoon, Slave.”

So after about 6 runs, and some spicey chili, the chilled Collins clan retreated back down the mountain. As I was arraying our gloves along the baseboard heater to help them dry, Mistress checked her I-phone and announced to me that it was “time”.

“Could you get out my equipment, Slave?”

Of course, Mistress.”

We had left our original Hitachi behind over the Thanksgiving weekend, in order to avoid raised TSA eyebrows as we travel to and fro. I pulled it and an extension cord from it’s hiding place and made sure all was in working order.

Then I kissed Mistress, wishing her a jolly good time.

Mistress shuttered herself in her room, the teens went to their room to watch videos and chill. Mick turned on a football game to help deaden the sound of the wanton moans of sexual release sure to me emanating from our bed at any moment.

Mick had a good book, football, a comfy couch … so what that his lovely wife was on the other side of the wall lavishing her cunt with attention at the urgings of our Western Correspondent.

I must have nodded off, so it seemed it was not long before Mistress emerged from our room, a smug and satisfied look on her face.

She sat down next to me, and I asked the question that had been at the top of my mind.

“So how did M’s brother manage to slide his finger up the ass of three women on Saturday night?”

She laughed.

“Apparently he’s ‘known’ for that, Slave…. It was some neighborhood party.”

It did strike me as odd. M’s bro lives in one of those stolid Midwestern cities known for making beer, not Las Vegas or San Francisco. I had trouble imagining a guy at some suburban holiday party in our hometown sidling up to a neighbor lady and asking “would you mind dropping your drawers so I can finger your ass?”

And then finding two other women who would say yes to that as well on the same evening.

Impressive. I think our Western Correspondent may need to do a tutorial on this strategy for breaking the ice with a suburban mom.

After that, Mistress and Slave adjourned to a hot bath, and to bed. Nap first, then a robust round of fucking during which I tried to remind Mistress that a work-a-day cock can have its merits too.

After dinner – steak, potatoes and veggies at home – we cranked up the Kiva fireplace and trimmed our Christmas tree. And the surly teens even helped.

But once the tree was done, the retreated to their room, leaving the roaring fire to us.

Mistress perused the sex blogs on her laptop, enjoying Sin’s “Dear Mick” posting on Poly stuff. It inspired her to get M on the phone again, and she chatted with him about various blogs we read during the long ride, as I rubbed her foot with one hand while holding my book with another. She noted that Brooke had posted a photo of her Master’s cock on her blog several months ago.

“But, you know M,” she said in that flirtatious voice she saves for him, “there’s no way I’m posting any of those photos of your cock on our blog…. Who knows who might start hitting on you.”