Home Alone

Poor Mick.  All alone here at the UCTMW World HQ last night, as Mistress was off on a short business trip in our ever so flat state capitol. 

Of course, Mistress took suitable security measures.  Yesterday morning, before some particualrly early wake-up sex, she made sure I slid the hard steel ring of my cage over my cock and balls, ready for the cage lid to be locked on tight through the day.

"I like the extra had cock I get with that ring on Slave.... just a little bonus for me before I close the lock tight."

(Of course, it's a bonus for me too.... my cum (with permission of course) always is a little harder to get to and oh so more dramatic when it arrives with that steel ring clinging tight at the base of my "package".)

So with Mistress's "work-a-day" cock all secured away, we were both off to work. Me to my normal drudgery and she up the highway.

From time to time we would text or talk, of course. And she'd have a little fun with my status for the day.

"How's the cage, Slave?"

"Tight, Mistress."

So while she dined with an acquaintance last night, her Slave had dinner with my daughter and  two cute grandsons. When I got home, I did get a call from Mistress, who was in a merciful mood.

"Slave, would you like to remove your cage now?"

Uhhh, yeah.

She directed me to the hiding place for the little key, and listened to me as I sighed with satisfaction as I worked it off those sad, shriveled parts. 

She had a grateful Slave on her hands.

But not one who would abuse his freedom.  I am well accustomed now to the "no touching" rules here at the UCTMW World HQ.  I don't need a cage to enforce that regime.

Why not save all that pent-up sexual demand for Mistress when we are reunited later today?

I'm already fixated on the idea of the upcoming worship session this evening.....

Yum.

The Mistress

(Wherein the UCTMW media empire makes it's play for a Bl-Oscar)

THE END

(Roll Credits. Collect Awards. After Party!)

Back at It....

It was good planning that Mistress and Slave left themselves a full day to adjust to the time shift before heading back to work here in River City.  We spent the day yesterday doing very little of consequence - a morning trip to the gym, a walk in the chilly sunshine, time catching up with the news, and visiting with our respective mothers.

But there was some residual pent up sexual demand to deal with.  Yes, there had been that very early morning encounter when we both woke up at about 9 am Paris time ( 3 am here). But after Mistress read the blog, accompanied by some worshipful oral devotions, her work-a-day cock was more than ready for a second round of morning sex.  We took it slow, and made sure that all the kinks were worked out before Slave requested permission to come. 

Fortunately, she was in an indulgent mood.

We also had some time to reflect on our trip. While dealing with the sullen teen had been trying at times - she clearly was not in the mood for us to treat her as "our little girl" - it was a once in a life time chance to spend a full week in one of the World's greatest cities.  Maybe next time (if there is one) we can ditch the kids and spend a little more time exploring the sensual side of Paris.... though there were a few hints we were able to capture in pixils.  I mean, where else can you find naked cock fighting?

Or perfume ads with a bondage theme?
Or even memorial stones with a kink for the twisted among us?  No, the next time we will definitely need to search more of this out.   Now, I think it's time for me to head back up to the Executive Suite to make sure Mistress has a little extra time to kick off our return to the offices in fitting UCTMW style.

Meanwhile.... back at the UCTMW World HQ

Mistress and Slave made it back from their Parisian adventure to visit their long lost sullen teen.  One fear I had about arranging this journey, about 4 months before her year abroad ends, was that she would have a meltdown on the last day and beg to go home with us.

As it turned out, that was not the problem. Instead, it seemed after about 4 days we had overstayed our welcome. By yesterday morning when we dropped her off at the Gare du Nord (she reminded me more than a few times that you don't pronounce either the "r" or the "d"), she seemed more than happy to have us skedaddle back to the banal world we come from, and to take our shoddy table manners and unsophisticated habits with us.

Nevertheless, Mistress and Slave did have a wonderful time, with more time to ourselves over the last two days. There was great eating, strolling, sight seeing and appreciating the more elegant and sensual lifestyle of this great city, with its soft pathways, winding alleys, and charming Bistros.

Of course, back here in River City we had some adjusting to do after the nine hour flight home. It was colder, we were back behind the wheel rather than strolling or riding the Metro, and that six hour time shift was a bit of a bear.

But fortunately we had what amounted to a whole weekend left to ourselves, in the empty nest, to adjust. 

Who can complain about that?

After the mail was opened and the cats were reassured that their human companions had returned, Mistress elected to go get some deferred maintenance done on her fingertips and feet. It was Slave's job to re-stock the larder.

But I was reminded via text, somewhere in the produce department, that on my return home there would be a cropping in my future. a list of pecadillos had been run up during that week away, where the lack of privacy had prevented swift justice. 

Ouch.

But as it turned out, by the time Mistress returned, and I had stored away the groceries, she was too tired for corporal punishment. Instead there was some plain old raucous sex in the executive suite, preceded by some much deferred worship.  It was nice to be able to go full throttle after a week, without the need to stifle or listen for the key in the lock of our little apartment in the Marais.

And while out own little "Temple of Love"  may not have high ceilings or stained glass like St. Chappel, it's great to be able to keep the door open and not worry about volume.

After a nap that seemed like it could have gone on much longer, Slave assembled our dinner: a roast chicken and sauteed spinach. And by then we were a little too tired even to turn on the TV.  Instead we retired to our cozy bed, caught up on the papers, and read until it was what passed for a suitable eastern time zone bed time.

Of course, we woke at a crazy hour this AM. Was it 2 am, or 3 here ? But 9 am Paris time? The cats missed us, apparently. One was licking my hand while the other was parked on my ass.   

It seemed there was only one prescription for nocturnal readjustment (after the cats were shown the door).

"Would Mistress like her Slave to fuck her?"

"My cock is always welcome, Slave...."

Yes, we'll always have Paris.  But wherever we have an empty nest, I'm happy to call home.

Correction Time

When Bill called me back to the bedroom this afternoon, I thought he was inviting me back to have an opinion about a bookshelf. Wrong. I should have known from his tone of voice that it was about more than that.

As I entered the doorway, I spied a wooden paddle, a flogger, handcuffs, the Hitachi and a short black nightie laid out on the bed. Oops! Seems like my bad behavior had caught up with me.

He looked at me sternly and raised one eyebrow. He nodded toward the bathroom and instructed me to take care of things. When I headed back into the bedroom, I was naked and clean and Bill stood naked in front of me. I offered to suck him off, but he said that while my talents make him lose track of the world for a moment or two, we would still be getting around to the spanking, so why not just get it overwith. I could think of a few reasons I might want to delay things but, surprisingly, managed to say nothing.

And so, he pulled the short nightie over my head, gave me a kiss, locked the handcuffs on my wrists and positioned me over the side of the bed. He flipped the tail of the nightie up over my back, and, after a warm-up consisting of a slow butt rub with an occasional swat, the swats came closer together and the rubbing between swats shorter and shorter until we were all the way into a full-fledged spanking.

Damn, that hurts. I had just a moment's reprieve as he reached over for the paddle and soon the deeper "thuds" began. I was twisting a bit and trying hard not to cry out when he switched to the flogger. A different smack and a different sting come with the flogger. It isn't less pain, just different.

Often I am given a count of swats, or a length of time when I know things will stop, but it was a major error on my part that had brought us here, so I had no idea how long it would last. At some point I was aware of Bill making a comment about simple being best and setting aside the flogger to go back to spanking with his hand. Then finally, it was done.

At least I thought it was.

He quickly repositioned me into a kneeling downward dog position, grabbed the Hitachi and flipped the switch.

Golly Ned! The Hitachi can be a wonderful sex buddy, or it can be a pain, literally, if held in one position against a delicate area. Want to guess which it was this time? Now that isn't to say I didn't cum. I orgasmed a couple of times, and was begging for it to stop. And, seemingly unfazed by my begging, when Bill thought the time was right, he backed off and began to using a much lighter touch. When I heard him chuckle as I came again, I knew we were well and truly almost finished with the punishment.

And that meant we could move on to the apology part of the program. Bill feels that I offer my best apology to him with his cock in my mouth. So I was positioned on the opposite side of the bed, flipped over onto my back, and my head was eased just enough off the edge of the bed that he could easily slide his penis between my lips. I worked on sucking, licking and tonguing a decent apology, and sucking like that is such a sensual thing to do that I had another orgasm, and this time when I came, it had more to do with pleasure than the pain/pleasure combination.

Bill's ejaculation was all about pleasure, and he accepted my apology. He removed the handcuffs positioned me on the pillows to rest and covered me with a blanket.

And now the situation is done, over, finished, and won't be mentioned again.

I love that. Learn the lesson and move on, leaving the past in the past. It works for us.

Mick and Molly are on their way home right now and will hopefully be returning to their inspirational sex schedule. Hopefully they were able to avoid the effects of withdrawal during their stay with their teen. 
 


Donna

Time's Up.

Mistress and her devoted Slave are here in our tiny garret this evening, packing for the trip home. Our "loving" daughter has her debris scattered everywhere, deciding what she can send back with us, and what she will keep for the 4 1/2 months left in her "studies" here on the continent.

I suspect she has now realized why it made sense for her to leave us "ugly Americans" behind. We're too loud, too bufoonish, too corny, and we have very poor table manners.  The only thing we are good for is keeping her credit cards below the Max, and bailing out these sophisticated Europeans  whenever Germany gets too big for it's Liderhosen.  (Plus, I doubt I know how to spell "liderhosen".

But I must say Molly and Mick have had an enjoyable time, with and (these last two days) without our daughter attempting to act like she doesn't know us.

Today, while the sullen teen slept in with her Danish friend after a very late evening doing "stuff" on the town (I don't think we really want to know), her bumpkin parents took a final tour around the city, enjoying the art, the food, the ambiance and some startlingly pleasant weather.

Mistress did have time to contemplate resuming her search for the perfect "part time dom".  This guy seems to fit the part, and has a very hard cock. But I doubt he could get a passport to visit River City.

We also saw a painting that reminded us of the events back in the fall at the UCTMW World HQ, on what became known as homecoming weekend (or for that matter any weekend with Suzanne over at All Mine.  You can tell who that is int he middle!

And while we didn't have time to do any lingerie shopping, we did pass by a few compelling windows.  This one with the ultimate truism.

(And when the little red confection in the window is priced at 800 Euros, Love will have to do.)

We did finally meet up with our daughter at the Apple Store, in an old building with a view of the Paris Opera. It had all the manic energy, and over taxed "genius" staff of our local Apple Store, but with a view and in a foreign language.  Give our daughter credit for finding the pale and getting her laptop computer battery replaced without helicopter parents on hand.  And then, back at our apartment, when it was time for us to start packing up, she elected to go for a walk.

Of course, she got no argument from us. By then it had been almost 24 hours since the sexual frenzy of the prior afternoon.   Within moments after the door slammed behind her, Slave was buried exactly where Slaves belong.  And what followed was some lovely afternoon delight, in the soft fading sun of a Paris winter's day.

You'll hear more from us come Sunday, when reality sets in. But we'll always have Paris!

Medieval Hi-Jinks

Mistress and Slave actually got the day off from the sullen teen today....

Yes, I know, we came all the way across the Atlantic in the dead if winter just to see our beloved daughter who has been studying abroad here since August.  Are we whining after only 5 days?

Well... yes. It seems for about 3 days she was glad to see us, and by the fourth she was playing "I don't know these people", walking so far ahead of us on busy streets that it seemed I had to call on all of the "trade-craft" I'd learned from spy novels to keep a "subject' under surveillance just to keep track of her.

It came to a head yesterday afternoon, when she used a quay at a subway gate exit to get so far ahead of us that we "lost her".  I had considered leaping the gate to stay on target, the way the guy in those Bourne movies would have done.... but .... Nah. She's a big girl who could find her own way home.

Bummer.

Mistress texted that we would meet her back at the apartment.... and that we were in no hurry to get back.

I'm not sure what she expected when we finally caught up with her at our apartment.... was she expecting a lecture?  Instead I congratulated on her evasiveness, and proposed that she consider a career with the CIA.

The good news was that she invited a fellow student from Denmark to come visit for last night and tonight..... indeed, she had to meet her at a nearby subway stop at 11 pm.

Most good parents would insist on coming along.... a foreign city at night, their 18 year old out on the street in a too short dress.

But we had priorities.... and the thought of an empty apartment for at least 30 minutes was too appealing for us.

As soon as the door shut, I was buried between Mistress's legs.... devouring with gusto. and when she was satisfied with my oral attentions, she returned the favor.

"I want to suck my cock now Slave....."

Who was I to say "non".

That devolved into some robust, sweaty and very loud fucking.  But even after Mistress had given her Slave permssion to come, I knew she was still not completely satisfied.

I used my hand to give her one more mega-cum that left her sobbing against me, face wet with tears.

Clearly there had been some serious pent up sexual energy that had to be discharged.  Suddenly though, we heard the door opening.... we had gotten our "work" done just in time!

But I'm guessing you are wondering.... Mick.... you're in Paris. Where's the art?

Well we have seen a good bit of it.... at the Louve, then yesterday at Varsailles.

And we did see a few pieces that reminded us of some of our blog friends.  This first one, is something that Sin and her Big Bad Dom would appreciate.... with this guy in the house, who needs clamps or clothespins.

I know, you'd like a close-up, wouldn't you?

Youch.

Another painting reminded me of the folks over at All Mine.... particular Tammy, in the corner, hands bound.  Could the subject of this drawing have a CB under that loin cloth?

We'll be sure to keep our eyes open for more art that our readers would be interested in before we head home on Saturday.

Seating for two?

In yesterday's post, Mick gave you a glimpse of an interesting French chair on display at an "Erotic Museum" near the Moulin Rouge. 

It looked liked this:
 

Rather than walking the streets of Paris, I used the search option on my laptop and was able to find a few somewhat comparable items available at Amazon.com.

Now I'll admit that these don't have the fancy fabric and cute little bow back rest, and you would need to arrange for your own slave, sub, or kinky friend to provide the stimulus, but I would rather have human than mechanization anyway, wouldn't you?

  Pipedreams Fetish Fantasy The Incredible Sex Stool with Free Love Mask

The Fetish Fantasy Sex Stool is designed to play hard--it holds up to 300 lbs. and is constructed with a heavy duty tubular steel frame. The opening in the seat's center allows you to get closer and go deeper than ever before, for maximum penetration and maximum pleasure! Best of all, it's discreet enough to pass as a normal chair or stool in your bedroom. 

You know, I can't imagine that a 300 pound person would look at that and think it looks comfortable. And frankly, I don't think I want to be under there when a 300 pound person takes a seat. I also am a tad suspicious as to whether this would pass as a "normal chair" in my bedroom. I think, perhaps, a perceptive person might guess that the tubular steel pieces with a cutout seat of of TPU, thermoplastic polyurethane, is not part of my bedroom suite.

That being said, The Incredible Sex Stool with Free Love Mask gets some very nice reviews, like this one, "This stool is a must have for any couple. all kinds of new positions to explore." And there is a review that offers these words of wisdom, " Be sober the first time you use it." I really wish there had been more explanation about what happened with that couple, but there wasn't.

Oh, and I never did figure out why there is a Love Mask included, nor which position is suppose to wear it. There may be an explanation included in the packaging, I don't know.

Now, if we really want to measure up with the French on this situation, we may need to consider the next step in price and size. And so, may I present, drum-roll, please,...

The Mr-S-Leather Deluxe Rimming Seat with 18" & 12" Legs  

Product Features

·       1" steel pipes, covered in black rubber, are torqued into chrome-plated iron fittings for a strong, solid frame.

·       Unsurpassed in anal, oral and genital gratification!

·       Can accommodate up to 266 lbs.

While a tad pricey, and somewhat visually reminiscent of something my grandmother kept next to her bed in her advancing years, it does have an outstanding five star review titled Ass Eater at Amazon. Here is just a bit of that five star review: "I am not sure if it is the chair or his great tongue work, but I know that I was in heaven for hours. The greatest feeling I think I ever had. Hope to get mine soon, it was just too good to explain."

It does sound as though the reviewer was well pleased with the Mr-S-Leather Deluxe Rimming Seat. Although I guess the relationship didn't continue because I can't imagine a couple needing more than one of these, unless, as suggested with the previous item, they are passing them off as a pair of "normal chairs" in a seating group in the master bedroom.

The weight capacity on this seat is a little less than the Pipedreams Sex Stool, and I must admit to a rather perverse interest in what kind of testing was necessary to learn that the maximum weight load the seat will accommodate is 266 pounds and not 267. Was anyone, seated or serving, hurt during the testing of this product?

I think either of these seats could be very nice indeed, both practical and useful in households like ours. While I will admit to being a bit disappointed to notice that the Free Super Saver Shipping isn't available on these products, I am glad to know they are readily available to those with computer access. Plus, I really didn't care for the material on the French seat!

I shop at Amazon all the time. If while I am ordering cat food and coffee, I see that either of these seats is on sale, I'll be sure to let you know.


Donna

Molly and Mick Do Paris

With our sullen, world traveling teen with us, we've had to keep our erotic adventures on the back burner, but we have had a chance to surreptitiously snap a few photos with a kinkier mind set.

Mistress has had a few windows of opportunity for some "cock riding", but we have to act fast... when our daughter goes for a "jog" it' hardly a marathon.
We have gotten in a lot of walking over the last two days, with some brilliant sunshine making it perfect weather for sightseeing.

Mistress spotted the "erotic Museum" near the Moulin Rouge in Montmartre.  She teased us about wanting to visit, though our Paris Museum passes did not seem to work there.  I demurred not thinking our lovely daughter would be amused. But Mistress wandered into the lobby, taking a photo of this rather primitive "fucking machine".  I bet we have a few readers who would like to try this out.  Note the manacles on the leg.

More later..... it's off to Versailles for us.  Thanks to Donna for keeping the blog going while we are gone.

Bondage

I love being tied, roped, cuffed and harnessed.

To say there is freedom in bondage may seem counter-intuitive to some, but it is absolutely true for me. I never feel any safer, any more cherished, any prettier or any more confident in my body than when I am in bondage.

When being tied, the rope is always soft and beautifully dyed. A person who has invested time and energy in learning this art form has chosen a specific pattern to use, usually to showcase my body in a specific manner. And even when it is other than my Dom tying me, the feeling of trust and safety is there, knowing the person has been well vetted and I can trust there will be fast release knots where needed, that circulation will be checked regularly, and that I will never be left alone once tied.

Feeling confident in my body when tied or harnessed is such a gift, and not a common thing for me. I have always worn leg braces, orthopedic shoes and walked with forearm crutches or been in a wheelchair. That isn't to say I don't look attractive when I go out, but I have always yearned for that totally pulled together package of high boots and a short skirt, or sexy, strapped high heels with a classy black dress, and those aren't in the cards for me this time around.

But when I am naked and bound, the world is an even playing field. Scars become ornamentation, almost enhancements to the rope or leather. Through careful arrangement, my breasts are back up where they were 10 years ago, and the patterns of ties or straps down my abdomen work better than any girdle to give me a flat bellied look. No walking is required, I will be placed where my Dom or Domme wants me to be. And I feel beautiful.

Like all of BDSM, bondage is a built-up of layers, with communication leading to trust that leads to exploration and joy.

Knowing how much I enjoy bondage, when Bill saw something on one of his morning blogs about harnesses going mainstream, he forwarded it to me. Sure enough, the Fall 2012 collection by Hervé Léger is bondage wear over more traditional clothing.

I think Bill may have been leaning toward making the point that I won't really need new clothing when what I have will hardly be noticed once he puts my bondage gear over the top of it. And while I'm sure he is correct to a point, I think it could put some of the more conservative locals into a swoon or maybe even a dead faint, and goodness knows how their wives would react.

However, never let it be said that I am against progress. If a man who looks like the man here would like to wear his harness gear along with his tats and bare butt out in public, I am all for it! If anyone makes him feel uncomfortable, I want him to know he can come sit or stand next to me and I'll do all I can to take his mind off his troubles.

Donna

Bon Jour

Mistress and Slave are enjoying their time on the continent with their long lost sullen teen this week, in a charming walkup apartment in one of Paris's oldest neighborhoods.  And while there is a certain lack of privacy, our daughter stunned us Sunday morning with the announcement that she was "going for a run...."

The window of opportunity would not be open for long, so we took advantage, with Slave doing his morning "devotions", and Mistress riding her cock with a frenzy that belied our struggle to adjust to the 6 hour time shift.

We spent a good part of yesterday enjoying the City in the sunshine, as Parisians and their visitors filled the narrow lanes.

I did see some interesting pastries which I thought our readers might enjoy. Noy sure how these would match up with the WC's "special occasion cock".

And Molly and her daughter, who fit in with the other Sunday shoppers in their black coats and colorful scarfs, perused some shoe and purse stores.  Mistress took this photo to share with you boot lovers:

Thanks, Donna, for keeping our readers enetertained in our absence.  If you are like us, you will find yourself pushing the boundries a bit to come up with "blogable" material. If so, you and Bill may end up with an more interesting week than you had anticipated.

Mistress is still snoozing next to me.... I note that our daughter is now awake in the other room, but watching a video with her earbuds on.... so this could be another chance for some hanky panky..

Maybe it's time to do a little nudging....

A Good Morning

I took my shower early this morning, taking great care in shaving my armpits, pussy, anal area and legs. That's quite a bit of territory to cover. I shave more of my body than not. Why? Because my Dom likes it that way. No other reason.

After finishing up in the shower, toweling off and blow drying my hair, I climbed into bed with Bill, who was still snuggled down in the covers. His body was all toasty warm and the aroma of male sleepiness hung in the air, making me horny. He opened his arms and I crawled over to bury my face in his shoulder while he gently covered us both with the blankets.

Such comfort and peace is found in resting together, one of his legs tossed over both of mine, one hand holding my head close against him and the other slowly rubbing my back, up and down, up and down. The resting slowly became something more as his calloused hand that had been rubbing my back moved to my side, and bit by bit to my front, to the breast available while the other was tucked against his body.

Instead of the up and down motion, the strokes became circles of light touch, around and around, closer and closer to the nipple, but not quite touching it...and then backing off, spiraling outward, pausing, and beginning the same course again. As each pass came closer and closer to my nipple, I wanted his touch and his mouth, but I knew to wait, to be patient, to say nothing. 

Finally, finally the palm of Bill's hand just barely rubbed the tip of my hardened nipple, and I sucked in my breath. He chuckled, then tugged my arm to begin the process of bringing me on top of his body. 

He positioned me on hands and knees over him and grabbing my breasts, pulled them toward the center line of my body and down toward his face. Adjusting his hands to push firmly on the outer sides of my breasts, he was able to get both nipples into his mouth at one time, sucking, licking and then biting, over and over. I cried out and felt my pussy spasm. He paused, allowing me to catch my breath, and began again.

I was flipped onto my back and saw that Bill was reaching into the toy cabinet. Very soon, a small vibrating wand was lubed and placed against my clit. He placed my hand around the wand, and the only words he said were, "Keep it right there." As I obeyed, Bill reached behind his back to grab a flogger and began flogging my already tender breasts and nipples.

Suddenly, the flogger was tossed onto the bed and Bill crawled closer on his knees and began to beat his penis hard against my breasts and nipples. I begged him to cum on me, to give me what was mine, to rub his warm cum into my skin. And he did.

And it was a lovely start to the day. I hope you had a good start to your day, too.

Donna

Hanging Around

Hello UCTMW Folks,

No peek-a-boo tights today, and no beautiful boots or kinky sex in River City. You have entered the Twilight Zone of the lives of a Dom and his submissive living in a log cabin deep in the woods of Western North Carolina. Here's a picture of where we live. Takes your breath away, doesn't it?


Say, have you noticed that lots of BDSM people tend to be fairly serious about exercise? I wonder if that's because we see and touch each others bodies all the time? Or maybe it has to do with sexual stamina. And while it isn't a truth for all of us, Molly and Mick are out there bicycling on a regular basis, they belong to a gym and Molly does those aerobic spin classes where people seem to enjoy racing on bikes going no where while loud music plays.

I tend to side with astronaut Buzz Aldrin, of Apollo Eagle moon landing fame, who said,"I believe that every human has a finite number of heart-beats. I don't intend to waste any of mine running around doing exercises."


My beloved Bill doesn't agree with that viewpoint and attends the local gym several times a week. And, of course, the fact that Bill belongs to a gym doesn't mean we don't have a fair amount of exercise equipment around the house, although it quite clearly falls into the His and Hers categories. Bill was a championship rower as a younger man, so he has a rowing machine in his library, plus all the equipment for his mountain bike riding that is kept in the garage. In our bedroom he keeps one of those rolling tummy scrunching things, free weights and those push-up grips for his early morning sit-up and push-up routine.

I, on the other hand, have brightly colored stretch bands, a yoga mat and a lovely meditation cushion. I also have something we have both recently come to enjoy, my inversion table. While originally suggested by my orthopedist who presented it as a way to increase vertebral space, I am a firm believer in finding your kinky toys and tools wherever you can, and just yesterday, this became the newest kinky addition to our household.



So yesterday, while I was hanging upside down on the thing, stretching out my spine and doing my best impression of Bat Woman, Bill wandered into the room. I suddenly had a brainstorm, perhaps from increased blood flow to the brain, and asked him whether he thought, if tipped at just the right angle, I would be able to apply my lips and tongue to a certain sensitive part of his anatomy.

I didn't hear him answer, but instead hear the sound of his zipper being lowered and felt the motion of the table slowly being repositioned from almost straight up and down to one where all I had to do was turn my head a bit to bring him into mouth reach. Perfect! And as I proceeded with that favorite activity, that thing I do so well, Bill leaned forward, used his teeth to lift my shirt to suck and nibble on my nipples. Reaching forward with his arms, he unzipped my jeans, and inched his free hand between my panties and my flesh. He knows exactly how to light my fire and wasted no time getting my juices flowing. In no time at all we were both breathing hard and fast and felt it to be quite a worthwhile expenditure of heartbeats! Wonder if Buzz would think so?

Now he is wondering whether it might be possible to put me face down on the table for a short time, presenting a perfect target of butt and back for a bit of flogging and paddling, nothing long-term mind you, but just for an exciting change of pace. I'll have to let you know how that goes.

Oh, and I have orders that from now on I will be naked when using this piece of equipment.

Senior Correspondent,
Donna

Adieu

Mistress and Slave will be off this evening to visit our sullen teen for a week.  And as seems routine in our lives, just as try to escape for a few days off the temperature at work has risen considerably for both of us. That left little time for hijinks yesterday - other than some nice wake up sex in our executive suite.

Mistress picked me up at my office a little later than normal after work, running late for her spinning class at the gym. So I dropped her at the door, did my own work-out and we hooked up again after we were done with our routines.  Mistress looked fetching, and a little flushed, her black tights now off, with black boots over bare legs, and her make-up gone.

"So how was your class, Mistress?"

(We've recently changed gyms, and we are adjusting to the new routines and crowd).

"Actually good, Slave.... the spin leader was a guy, and pretty damed hot if I do say so...."

"Ohhh?... tell me more...."

"early 50's .... tall.... athletic obviously.... and some great music...."

"You may have to find out what his nights are Mistress....."

"I may.... he actually looks a little like Dave ==== (the mountain climber from out West that Mistress fancies)."

"Well while you're plotting to get the real thing, no reason not to practice with a reasonable facsimile".

By now we were heading home, where there was more packing and work to be done.

"I'm not sure how one hits on a spinning instructor, Slave...."

"Well you can always ask if he ever does any, 'personal training'...."

"I suppose...."

"Or there is the old, 'thigh cramp' ploy...."

"So obvious....."

"Sometimes the obvious has it's charm, Mistress....."

At least Mistress will have something to look forward to when she gets back.

While we are gone, Donna, our Senior Correspondent will be keeping the lights on here at UCTMW.  And if we get adequate privacy and wifi, I may try to post some tidbits.  But we do plan to take some time off from blogging and enjoy the City of Light with our long lost teen, who we've not seen since August.

But feel free to pass on any restaurant and sightseeing tips. If we can break away, maybe we can even go shopping for some kinky lingerie for Mistress.  This has a certain charm:

 And for our readers "across the pond" keep your eyes pealed for Mistress and Slave on their European adventure.

HNT / More on Presidential Kissing

Mistress and Slave were back in a more salacious groove yesterday. Of course, there was ample time for some toasty morning sex, and I didn't even have to resort to my JFK accent to get any action. (Believe me, it's worked on occasion. )

And after work, there was no big rush to make dinner, so Slave requested a worship opportunity, made all the more convenient by the access provided by Mistress's peek-a-boo tights.  Mistress even indulged her Slave's request to duck her after my lips and tongue had given her a gratifying starter cum as she laid back across our bed.

When the dust finally settled, I took a few photos of her, and am mixing in some from a week or so ago.  I must say I relish those lovely curves and shapes that her body forms as she lies across our bed in the UCTMW Executive suite.  The possibilities seem endless.

Now back to some of the comments yesterday on JFK, his young intern, Mimi Alford,  and the absence of kissing in that "relationship".  Many of you commented that the absence if kissing would be a death knell for a come on, even from the "World's Most Powerful Leader". (Presuming that power is in direct proportion to the nuclear arsenal at your disposal, I suppose).

And I would certainly agree with that take: I can't imagine a sexual liaison that does not begin with a kiss.

As one of you commented, the absence of a kiss prior to sex is more in the nature of the relationship between a hooker and her "John".  But here, it was JFK who apparently avoided the kissing -- in this analogy was he the Prostitute, and was the intern is customer?  No that was not the power dynamic.

Mistress and I talked a little more about it last night as she added details to the story from the book as she read it on her kindle.

"So at this point Slave.... JFK asks her to give his buddy Dave Powers a blow job next to the White House pool, because he'd had a stressful day...."

"And does she do it...?"

 I'm thinking no, she rebels, draws a line. Not some 19 year old prep school girl from a "good family going down on her 45 year old lover's crony. (the guy with JFK in the hat).

"She does it, Slave...."

Uggh. I'm kind of disappointed in her.  You can see the fascination with JFK.... but his Irish drinking buddy?  Then it dawned on me....

"Maybe this was a primitive D/s relationship, Mistress.... with her getting off on being humiliated by her dominant lover.... forced not only to do the sex acts that he demanded from her.... but also to service a friend in his presence for his pleasure".

Love to hear what our submissive female readers react to this theory.

What, No Kissing?

Mistress and Slave had a rather laid back Valentine's Day. No high falutin' date night like the First couple had in DC? (Did anyone see the President's public warning to America's males yesterday to look at the calendar and not forget what day it was?  Clever.)

No  four way, as  was brewing over at All Mine.  (Damn, those folks sure have fun).

No, we had some satisfying comfort sex in the morning, went to work, and hit our gym at the end of the day. Mistress spun. I did the elliptical and watched the news.  At home I whipped up some tasty stir-fry, and we caught up on the most recent episode of Californication.

(I should add that Mistress got a little extra V-Day treat once we were done worshipping and fucking before work.... there were a few minutes left before it was time to hit the shower, so she got a bonus orgasm courtesy of her favorite power tool.   It's always nice to have a powered assist at those moments when the human body needs just a little more.)

We figured we would have that fancy celebratory meal on our last night in Europe next week, when the sullen teen is back with her host family. And after all, everyday is Valentine's Day here at UCTMW, isn't it?

But when our show was over, and we adjourned to the executive suite here at the UCTMW World HQ, I did make sure that Mistress had a suitable opportunity for worship before we settled into bed with our books.  Those clean shaven folds were mighty succulent last night.

Oddly, we were both reading books about JFK, the hero of my Irish Catholic youth, who died when I in 8th grade, just having turned 13. For those of us in that generation, the Carole King line "something inside me died" is not too dramatic  to describe the events of November, 1963.

I'm reading this long Steven King novel imagining a school teacher from Maine in 2011 traveling back through some convoluted hole in time to prevent the assassination.

Mistress is reading the recently published memoir of Mimi Alford, who (credibly) claims that she had an affair with JFK while a White House intern at the age of 19, that extended to the week of his death. The book describes the loss of her virginity in Jackie's bedroom (raising the question of why Jackie had her own bedroom), and has lots of other colorful and credible details.  There have been a many articles on her book of late, including this one from Sunday's Times, where she describes the White House in those days as more like "Mad Men" than "Camelot".

So we are laying there side by side, deep into the 60's, and Mistress is sharing random, colorful details.

"She says they took baths together, Slave...."

"I saw that in an interview she did..... they had rubber duck races...."

Bizarre, right?

"And she says his favorite song back then was that one from "How to Succeed in Business...."

Somehow I knew which one, whipped out my laptop and found it on You-Tube.... here it is.

I Believe in You

I can imagine JFK looking at himself in the mirror, admiring his own "grin of impetuous youth", when deciding whether to press the red button during the Cuban Missile Crisis, all the while humming this song. Scary.... the narcissist's theme song. But maybe you need that degree of confidence to do that job.

On the Cuban missile crisis.... "She says he called her back from Wheaton College to be there in the White House that week.... a limo picked her up....."

"Wonder if she had a reserved spot in the bunker if things went south?"

The intern's adventures with JFK are not particularly shocking to either of us. I suspect Mistress would have done it too, at the first drop of hearing him say her name with that Boston accent.  But at 19.... right between the ages of our two daughters.   Disturbing.  But those were different times. Before "sexual harassment, and a nosey press corps.



But here's the detail we fixated on.

"She says they never really kissed."

Huh?

How do you have an extended affair ... spend the night.... stare down Nikita Kruschev together, with your rubbie duckies at your side....without kissing?

Mistress and I discussed that....

"Kissing's important Slave.... Not sure I could last with someone who isn't a good kisser."

"So how do I rank...."

"You're a good kisser, Slave...."

I thought back to our first tentative kiss.... it definitely got better from there. And for the record, Mistress was at least 25 by then. I was an "ancient" 38.

We also ran through a few other folks she's engaged these last few years....some showed promise, others were avoiders.  And the kiss avoiders did not go the distance with Mistress.

So what's your take dear readers..... why no kissing between JFK and the intern? And where does kissing rank on your deal makers or killers?

Happy Valentine's Day

Here in River City it's actually snowing this morning. We've had little of it this winter, so who can complain. But since Mistress has an early curtain call at work this morning, and her Slave wants to make sure he gets the chance to exercise his morning sex privileges, I may make this morning's entry brief.  One does have to prioritize.

But I did want to cover a few things....

First, Aisha pointed out yesterday that the UCTMW "hit counter" was blowing past 500,000 yesterday. Actually, there is a separate meter on the page in smaller print that passed 500,000 last week, and over at StatCounter the number is higher, and always inconsistent with what googles internal measurements show. So who knows?  It does amaze me that we get more than 1000 page views most days, about 600 unique visitors, and about 150 each day who are back again..... it reminds me of that old Film Noir cliche "move on, there's nothing to see here...."

What's more amazing is where all those readers come from. Yes, most are from the good old USA.  But we have regular "check-ins" from all across Europe, Asia, Russia, Australia, etc.   Who dat hunk anyone would be cruising to read about the adventures of the aging Mick and his lovely Mistress/ Slave wife.  Of course, it could be they are just searching for hot images to "inspire" them, and we share those from time to time too, don't we?  I do wish we'd get more commenters from all those lurkers though.  The comments are what keep us going here at the blog, even on cold snowy mornings.

We do try to make sure to post something everyday.... we'd hate to disappoint that guy from Kiev who wants to see what's happening at UCTMW when he logs in each morning at the Smoking Samovar Cyber Cafe and Stripper Lounge.  But sometimes that's a little tough. Like next week.... Mistress and Slave will be traveling to Europe ..... no not for a blog signing tour ..... but to visit our younger sullen teen, who had been "studying" there for the last 6 months. Hard to believe we've not seen her for that long.

Slave figures it may be hard to post from there, sharing a small apartment with her in one of Europe's romantic cities, so I've arranged for Donna, our Senior Correspondent to slide into the Executive Editor's seat for the week.... I;m sure you will enjoy her reporting.  Don't covet her though fellow bloggers when you go on your own holidays.  I made her sign a non-compete!

Finally, Valentine's Day greetings to all of you in sex blog land.  While I did arrange for something suitable to arrive at Mistress's office today, we are going to low key it here.  We'll take our V-Day dinner next week in Europe, on the one night we will be without our missing teen.  So tonight there may just be a trip to our gym, and a quiet romantic dinner in our once again empty nest.

Slave may even get lucky if he plays his cards right. I missed switch day on Sunday.... Maybe Mistress will give me a rain check!

A Little Too Busy Sunday

Thank goodness Mistress and Slave took the time Saturday night, after a movie with Mistress's Mother and step father, for some properly excessive sex.

Late into the evening she was riding my cock, re-enforced in its dimensions by the strategically placed aneros, through a series of exclamatory cums, before wearing her poor self out, and rolling over to let her Slave finish the job.  Fortunately, she gave me permission to come myself at first begging.

And we were able to engage in some satisfying comfort sex when I woke her at around 8 am Sunday morning.  But after that.....

She was off to the gym, and some nail appointments with the cute Co-Ed.  I was picking up my two grandsons for some play time back at our house. They are cute too, but managing two of them for an extended period is like herding coyotes. ANd we are still missing a helmet from a miniature lego version of Aneken Skywalker the 3 year old insisted on bringing with him.

We were hoping for a little down time in the late afternoon, but a trip to the Doctor with the teen had Mistress engaged until 5, then it was my job to return her to campus, a two hour round trip that got me home after 7 pm,

But by then, at least, the nest was empty again.

Ahhh, sweet privacy.

Slave made some dinner: a grilled flank steak and some sautéed spinach. and we settled into watching a movie we had been wanting to see before our upcoming trip to Europe.

Finally, a little shared relaxation after a little too much company this weekend at the World HQ.

As I was working on dinner, Mistress did pop open the laptop long enough to peruse some of the "fan mail" she'd received via Ashley Madison.

There were a few raised eyebrows of interest, and some hearty "ughs".

"Slave, why would someone who's trying to make a nice first impression immediately send you a picture of their cock?"

I looked over from the wok to confirm her description.  He laying back, face in the background, cock rising in the foreground like a war club.  I began to wonder how you would set up a shot like that.  Do you need help, or do did he have particularly dexterous toes to hold the camera and snap the shot?

"Maybe some women like the direct approach.... wonder what Riff Dog would say about that?"

Over at Collar Me, there were a few additional solicitations, including a dude from Louisiana who said the solution was simple: "Try Slavery... I could use a good pair of slaves."

Sorry. That seemed to far exceed Mistress's expression of interest in a "part time Dom", and might interfere with our work schedule a tad.

But now I'm having trouble getting Creedence Clearwater Revival  out of my head.

Mistress Goes Shopping

When your cute Co-Ed daughter comes home for a surprise weekend visit, you can't complain, right?

I mean it would be wrong to whine about the need to keep the bedroom door closed during moments of intimacy? To "tone it down". To work one's afternoon schedule around when she'll get home from that impromptu visit to Costco to stock up on unhealthy snack foods to feed the rest of her dorm.

Wouldn't it?

Mistress and Slave have gotten a little spoiled with our empty nest. But it's hard to tell an otherwise lovely daughter that she needs to make an advanced reservation to re-occupy her bedroom for a Friday and a Saturday night.

I guess we need to be grateful she did not make an unannounced appearance for the infamous "home cumming weekend".

Now that could have been really embarrassing.

And speaking about Mistress's roving eye and well honed sense of adventure, this weekend she was inspired by Riff Dog and his on again off-again blogging at Ashley and Me to open an exploratory account at "Ashley Madison". Oh, and to turn her "Collar-Me" account on too.  I mean Lent is approaching, and Mistress believes in"counter programming".

As she once said, "I don't understand this whole thing about 'giving stuff up for Lent',  Slave" -- not that she's a Catholic. "Life is too short for self-denial."

Who could argue with that?

So as I was sorting through my tax documents - wondering why I don't simply lay back and live off my "carried interest" like some Presidential candidates do - Mistress was sitting in the living room next to me, sorting through some of the strange responses she'd gotten to her rather provocative profile in the few hours that they had been up.

(We were in the living room rather than doing what would normally happen in our "Executive Suite" in deference to the cute Co-Ed, who apparently  thinks parents who hole up in their bedroom for an entire Saturday afternoon are a little odd.)

"here's one with a boat, Slave...."

"Maybe you could go down river and visit Aisha...."

"And one who says he has a private 'love nest'...."

"I guess that could be helpful when a cute co-ed shows up unannounced, and an orgy has been scheduled."

Mistress was a little confused by the "keys" some guys had sent to access their secret stash of hardly seductive photos and the ability to send and receive "cyber roses". Though I guess that could save a guy a few bucks on Valentine's Day.

Over at Collar Me, there was a guy on a Harley who expressed some interest in obtaining Slave's services.

Uhhh.... No.

And a persistent sub from a nearby suburb who apparently wants to be part of Mistress's stable of pampered Slaves.

"I guess he can't read that I'm looking for a part time Dom, one Slave is more than enough work."

Mistress does have exacting standards, as you would expect: Not too short; not too heavy; or too light for that matter.  Smoking is a problem. And grammar and spelling seem to be critical. It would be nice to demonstrate a little intellectual curiosity, as in having opened a book in the last year or so. And not to be too skittish in Mistress's sometimes intimidating presence. Tolerance is important, though being a Yellow Dog Democrat is hardly de riguer.

By the time Mistress had explored some options, sorting pretenders from contenders, both of us were a little horny.... and since the cute Co-ed seemed to be busy with the cats, we slid into our bedroom. First, a nap, then the plan was a little sundown sex before heading to a movie.

But alas, we were derailed. the nap lasted a little longer than expected, and the Co-ed had to deal with an unexpected medical issue that needed her doting parents' attention. So our late afternoon fun was aborted.

Ahhh, the burdens of parenting.


But don't feel too sorry for the Slave..... the movie did not last too long, and after we dropped off the folks who had joined us, there was still some life in Molly and Mick.

"Go put in your device, Slave....."

As I slid in the aneros that Mistress sometimes requires me to use, to assure a particularly hard cock, Mistress was back on Ashley Madison for a few minutes, showing me some of the latest arrivals in her in-box.

"Goodness, here's one all the way from Detroit, Slave...."


"Hmmm.... maybe it's Clint Eastwood."

In a few moments Mistress's lap-top was set aside, and Slave was using my lips and tongue to prime her pump.

"Go ahead, Slave. Make my day."

Deferred Gratification and Teen Fantasy Fodder

Yesterday morning Slave was up early, and after publishing the daily edition, made his way up to the Executive suite with the expectation that .... I'd get lucky. Well, after some worship and blog reading, that is.

But when I arrived upstairs I found Mistress with her lap top open, engrossed in .... something.  I decided to be a little flip.

"Start without me Mistress?"

(Sometimes Mistress reaches under the bed for her favorite power tool.)

She was not amused.

It seemed that some sort of work crisis had popped up on her email stream and she was already deep into it.

Oops. My window of opportunity had slammed shut. And while Mistress was amenable to a quicky worship session as she read the morning edition, she was quickly up and into the shower thereafter.

The crisis was averted later that morning (Lesson: don't open your work email at 6:15 am), and by late afternoon Slave was looking forward to a relaxed evening at home starting off with some R & R time in bed before proceeding to a "picnic" dinner and maybe a movie.

But.... surprise.... the cute Co-Ed had gotten a ride home for the weekend with a friend - she missed her cats, her bed, the larder and (possibly) her parents.

Now of course it was good to see her (had it been a whole 2 weeks?) but her presence certainly altered our plans. There was no "right when we get home from work" sex. But instead, Slave reheated the chili left over from Super Sunday, cooked some rice to go with it, opened some wine, and we settled in to watch a chick flick as a family unit. (My suggestion of the X-Men Prequel we sadly had missed at the Multiplex last summer went over like a kryptonite balloon).

Finally, when the couple who met cute at the beginning found themselves together at last at the end, movie time was over and Mistress and Slave had a good excuse to go to bed.  By then it had been almost 36 hours since Slave's last opportunity -- yeah, I know some of you guys are feeling for me - and I was just a tad horny, despite a glass or two of robust red.

We closed the door, leaving the cute Co-Ed to play with her cats, and stripped away the day's costumes.

"Do you mind if I keep the tights on Slave..... it's a little cold tonight."

"No problem Mistress..... You know how hot I think they are...."

"And go insert your device.... I want the extra hard cock tonight."

She got no argument from me.

_________________________

Last week, when I was pointing out that the seemingly boring housewives of the 1950's might have been closet dommes, I concluded with a reference to Wonder Woman, who may have been the inspiration for some closeted male subs of that generation.  I know I thought she was pretty hot, what with the mind controlling lasso and all.

One of our readers left a comment to the effect that in her early days there was an even headier D/s theme to her work, so I did a little searching on the internet to confirm that proposition, and sure enough found some goodies, but some of the photos suggested that the writers and artists considered Wonder Woman to be into a little girl on girl action, something that has been subtly brewing over at All Mine in recent weeks.

Here is another one:

And some others:

And while there are plenty of old Wonder Woman covers showing her at the mercy of some male or female villians, what I couldn't find were any illustrations of Wonder Woman dominating men with her lasso or other bondage implements.... not even her wimpy boy friend Steve Rogers.

What's with that? Maybe our readers can help me find some.

New Venue for Worship

Mistress and Slave made a lunch date yesterday. We went back and forth a bit about whether she would visit my office, or I would visit hers. Ultimately we decided that I would drive over to her office, which is on the other side of downtown - a little too far to walk particularly on a cold and damp day.

There is a little deli in her building and we ordered our lunch there: she went for a "designer salad", and Slave settled for a sandwich.

Not surprisingly, Mistress was nicely decked out in her "business Domme" costume: the black dress, some tasteful jewelry, and of course her black boots and those special tights.  There is a public atrium with tables where we could sit, but it was a little crowded there yesterday, no doubt because of the unwelcoming weather.

So Mistress guided us to a small conference room. and while the wall had what appeared to be a smokey glass window it soon became obvious to this devoted Slave that the windows were completely opaque: from the outside one might be able to detect shadows inside, but one could never tell what the occupants were doing. And there was even a little space in the room, with some comfy chairs, that were out of sight all together.

Better yet..... there was actually a lock on the door!

"Looks like we've found the perfect space, Mistress...."

I could tell she was a little doubtful. She checked the lock to make sure it worked.... but relented.

"OK, Slave.... but we better do it now before folks get back from lunch.... it could be someone has reserved this conference room."

Fortunately, with those special tights, all Mistress had to do was sit back, spread her legs and hike up her skirt a bit. Slave could take it from there.

Mistress seemed to enjoy the attention, throwing her head back and lifting those booted legs over my shoulders, pulling me in tight.

"This is nice Slave.... let me take a photo for you to share."

I handed her my new I-phone so she would not have to get up and root through her purse.

And of course she did. But soon the I-phone was tucked away and both Mistress and Slave were focused on the task at hand. It wasn't long before Mistress's hips were rising to meet my purposeful lips and tongues, and she was stifling her moans of release.

She patted my head, running her fingers through the wispy remnants of my locks.

"Good job Slave..... it's nice to know you are nearby and on call."

Just a short drive away Mistress.

She already has my number, so I didn't need to give her my card:  "Have tongue, will travel".