Coming to Ground on the East Coast

I'm writing from the awninged deck of a B & B where Mistress and Slave have come to ground in one of those old East Coast beach towns where most folks resemble someone  from the cast of the Sopranos. And way to many of those remind you of Tony's crazy sister, whatever her name is.  The sun is coming up over a coastal lake, some sprinkles are tapping on the awning, and the breeze is gently churning the flowering trees that surround this little oasis.

Mistress is snoozing in bed, and I am awaiting her call.

Slave's been remiss this week in updating all of you on our adventures, but most were pretty mundane. The early morning departure with our whiny sullen teen on Wednesday for her new life in College. Dinner with a long lost cousin who lives not far from her campus, then the overnight in a nearby "sketchy" Motel, where the teen lectured us on how inappropriate it was to make her share a room with us at her lofty age.

"It's not like we were doing anything .... ummmm.... wrong", I muttered to Mistress. Ah well, it was out last night together for a while, and Slave would just have to stifle, I suppose.

The next day there was the big move-in to her dorm, meeting the roomies, and the official greetings from the President of this small liberal arts college, who insists that everyone call him "Sandy."

Somehow I don't think I would have gotten away with calling my University President "Ted", but times have changed, and most likely for the better. That eye popping tuition lets you call the President whatever you want, I suppose.

After our daughter made it clear to us that our presence had become an embarrassment it was time to go. Some tearful goodbyes behind us, we considered an evening exploring the sights of her new town ... but had a better idea.

After all, (sit down loyal readers) it had been TWO WHOLE DAYS since there was a chance for any type of sexual encounter for us.  So it was back to the sketchy motel, where we tossed back the bedspread that our daughter had suggested one could AIDS from (I can't make this shit up) and got down to business.

"Don't have high expectations, Mistress, I'm not sure I remember how to do this...."

But, it all came back with surprising ease. First I made sure to lavish attention on the still clean shaven folds, assuring that Mistress had a nice starter cum. Then she turned her attention to my firm and drooling cock, which needed no priming prior to completing it's mission. Actually. the ambiance of the sketchy motel room seemed only to enhance the furtive fun of our fucking.

Maybe someday our daughter will come to value such retro joys?  Or even her parents.

We made sure to take advantage of our privacy again yesterday morning, before climbing back in our rented mini-van (needed to transport all the stuff that our non-material girl needs to survive for the next few months), and heading to the "Sho-wa".  And after a day soaking up sun on the crowded beach we made sure to reserve some time for another round of fucking in our B & B before dinner.

We found a cute little organic restaurant where we ate on the deck, watching the Sopranos cast walk bye, wondering about the guys who go to dinner on a Friday night with their family in tank tops and shorts.

"I guess it's so they can display those fancy tatoos, Mistress?"

Then we strolled the crowded board walk, though we passed on the bumper cars. I led the way, steering us past the bars and restaurants, including one with a large collection of drag queens preening on the deck.  Diversity has come to the Shore!

When we found ourselves back at our B & B, Mistress was impressed.

"I had no idea where we were Slave....."

"See guys are good for a few things.... sense of direction... cocks...."

"Carrying baggage too."

"That, too, Mistress...."

It was

We did see a machine  on the boardwalk that brought to mind the big question that all "old" married couples have to consider when their little ones finally leave the nest. 

Although the details may be obscure, I have a feeling they will include a lot of sex.