Dinner and a Dance

Slave woke a little later than normal here. Finally adjusting to the time shift, I suppose, just as we get ready to head back to River City tomorrow.

Bummer.

So I may skip over the sex part, which involved some robust full frontal cowgirl yesterday morning, if only to spare Suzanne, who has been without Jay’s trophy cock and the skilled tongue of her Tammy all these tortured days.

Last evening we had dinner at a lovely local restaurant with two friends we met here several years ago. Like us, they are visitors, not true locals, but they “get” the ambiance here in the same way we do.

They both have worked in higher education in Oklahoma. John just retired and Jane, a little younger, is hanging in there for a few more years. Doing the math, both are about 5 years older than Molly and Mick, respectively.

As it turned out, John and I came dressed a little too closely matched,  both of us in jeans, boots, plaid western shirts and white cowboy hats. (Yes, Mick does wear an occasional cowboy hat out here).

This led to some teasing from our “girls”. Molly suggested we looked like matching Fisher-Price toys. Later, a musician we all know asked if we were “twins”.

Cute. But I suppose we deserved it. Two aging and overeducated dudes, dressed up like cowboys. All hat and no cattle, I suppose. But there is nothing wrong with a rich fantasy life, is there?

So there we were, sharing dinner on the patio of this amazing Spanish Nouveau restaurant, a spectacular view of the local Pueblo’s sacred mountain stretched out before us to the north , bathed in the pink alpenglow of the setting sun.

Maybe the view distracted me, but at some point Mistress looked at me with a bemused look.

“Ummm, Mick…. Did you hear what Jane just said?”

I gave her my best quizzical “huh?” look….

Fortunately, Jane didn’t mind repeating herself to this rude dinner companion.

“Remember. Mick,  I was talking about getting a facial peel….”

“Uhhh, oh yeah….” (I sort of remembered, maybe this explains why I zoned out…. I mean…. Facials?)

“Well I said that I had trouble getting the peel goop all off, and when we were leaving I looked in the mirror and it seemed like I had cum in my hair,  again.”

Ahhhhh.  So that’s what I missed.

From there the dinner conversation went downhill.

Apparently Jane considers herself quite a blow job expert. And that particular phrase was bouncing around the table so often I was starting to monitor folks at the tables surrounding us to see if they were offended by our rather frank chat.

The best story was about Jane on her knees in the driveway of their home after an evening out. Suddenly her cell phone rang.  It was her daughter, from inside the house, saying “Mom, I can see what you two are doing out there….”

John was happy to confirm that Jane’s particular skill was a key element of his decision to pop the question a few years back. (This is the second marriage for both of them).

Somehow the conversations shifted from BJ’s to what Jane described as her “laminated card”: A set list of celebrities that she had a free pass in advance to do it with if the opportunity arose.

Both Molly and Jane agreed that David Duchovney was on both of their lists. Then they rolled through a variety of other candidates.

But I made sure to point out that Mistress has a free pass with anyone she chooses.