Afternoons in the Sack

Here at the UCTMW World HQ it's been a rather laid back weekend.

We did go to a "dinner party" Friday evening, for a "surprise" birthday party for the wife of an old friend. He was organizing the dinner, and did it at a very leisurely pace. After about two hours of foraging through the diminishing apetizers and consuming too much scotch, beer and other substances, Mistress and Slave were fading fast, and the huge beef tenderloin he promised to feed a group of 11 was still wrapped in butcher paper.  The event was beginning to take on the feel of one of those "dinner parties" I attended back in the early 1970's at someone's squalid off-campus home, when "eating" involved psychedelic mushrooms.

At one point I lost track of Mistress, and feared maybe she had found a bedroom to nod off in. Not that such an eventuality would have bothered me. I just wanted to join her. Ultimately, I found her curled up on a couch in the living room, chatting with J, who seemed amused when I mentioned that I was afraid Mistress had passed out from fatigue and/or  hunger.

Later, as Mistress and I chatted with a couple around her age, she had a rather amusing candor mishap. Somehow the conversation had turned to sleeping habits. How much did she and the other couple get and need.  After hearing that the husband in the other couple was a stay up late guy, compared to the wife's go to bed early approach, Mistress made their jaws drop:

'We go to bed around 10:30.... I sleep 'til 7 or so, then Mick wakes me up for sex every morning."

I'm not sure the wife wanted to hear this.

"John would kill for me to have sex with him every morning."

Later, Mistress reminded me that I am a lucky Slave.  True. Not many 61 year olds get nearly as much action as I do.

But as it turned out, Saturday was not going to be one of those mornings. Mistress had an early business meeting, and we were both a little weary from our Friday night excesses. (We did finally get to eat that tenderloin, but not until around 10:30 pm).

But we made a "date" for reuniting in the executive suite around 2 pm, and that's where we stayed until heading out for  dinner at around 7:30 pm. It was luxurious to spend the entire afternoon in bed... some napping.... sex..... reading.... college football. Even some off line debating with Sin via email over Mideast Policy.  I mourned a little bit for Suzanne and Jay over at All Mine, who were at  a high scoring game broadcast here. Unfortunately, Jay's alma mater succumbed in the end to yet another red neck team. It's been a bad week for them when it comes to their local teams, though they seemed to have made up for it in other  ways.

This morning I woke a little early, since we nodded off at a reasonable hour, and noticed this article  rebutting Rush Limbaugh's recent rant on alleged shrinkage of penis sizes over the last 50 years, which he attributes to the rise of "Feminazis".  The author, a faculty member at Indiana University, debunks his theory, with some well researched information on how the measurement of penis sizes is hardly a reliable science. One thing she points out is that penis size can vary, in both "real" and "apparent" perspectives, depending on the health, girth, and randiness of the subject. And whether the measurement is done by the "subject" or a third person.

No mention is made in the article about whether the advent of cock cages has had an impact on cock sizes. I wonder if Rush considered that?

I've been instructed to wake Mistress at 8 am for wake-up sex, and will be sure I hit my mark, since she has some plans for the rest of her morning.

As it turns out, this morning  Mistress has an opportunity to do a little cock size comparison research of her own. She mentioned her plans to be yesterday afternoon.

"J wants me to  come over for a bike ride tomorrow morning , can I trust you to behave yourself while I'm gone?"

"Of course, Mistress...."

I have plenty of little tasks to take care of here, and I suspect by this afternoon, Mistress will have her fill of cock, as well as some intevening exercise.

Somehow I expect her to be in the mood for another nap.

Wake the F**k Up!

Life was back to a very nice cruise control level here in River City yesterday. Mistress indulged her Slave a little earlier than normal with some mellow wake-up sex. Though first she made sure that my hard steel ring that forms the base of my cock cage was in place.

She enjoys the extra hard cock it assures during our love making. and also knows its a little harder to smush my balls and cock into after we've had our morning "activity".



When we were finished, and after a joint shower, she locked me away for the day, with plans to get together at home around 6 pm.

I did have an unexpected treat after lunch during a rather tedious day at the office. Mistress was between meetings near my office and elected to drop by. It didn't take me long to close the door, and slide her "throne" against it to squeeze a little office worship into our day. Its nice to have the taste of her fragrant, musky juices on my face for the rest of the afternoon. And Mistress seemed to enjoy a little sensual distraction during the course of her busy day.


Back at home at the end of the day, Mistress was kind enough to unlock me. Then there was a nice bike ride in the twilight. A great time to see the neighborhood deer out grazing as we churned our way up the hill that provides some intense cardio exercise for this aging Slave.

Back at home some post bike ride worship led to some pre-dinner fucking in our executive suite.

"Insert your device, Slave.... I want a nice hard one from you....."

I happily lubed up the aneros,  a very nice alternative to that danged cage.

It was a nice way to prepare for what will hopefully be a laid back weekend at home for Mistress and Slave. And I'm also looking for sometime off from that pinch cage, since we'll be driving to work today and I think I'll be getting a "pass" today.

I did want to share an amusing video with you all, realizing that I'm treading off of sex blog material in a way that could offend some of our readers. (I don't think I've kept our political leanings secret here. It's part of who we are. And as we get closer to election day this year, those of you who sometimes see our comments on their blogs can probably tell old Mick is a little more focused elsewhere. )  In any event, here's something that popped up yesterday that made us smile:

Wake the Fuck UP!

Deliverance

No, not the movie with the catchy banjo tune. Or the squealing pig.

I was finally delivered from my two days of denial and atonement here in Wednesday morning. Mistress had come home from her evening at Temple in a holy (and burnt out) state of mind. After some raucous wake-up sex on Tuesday over at J's love shack, she apparently did not have the same desperate for sexual release state of mind as her (used to be) pampered Slave.

"Slave.... I think you're going to have to wait until morning.... but I will be nice and let you out of the cage for the night."

Well, half a loaf was certainly better than none. Though I think the semi-rigid cock that greeted her firm ass as we cuddled in bed and drifted off may have been a little distracting to her.

Nonetheless, we had a good night's sleep, and my apparatus was relieved to be loose and free for the night. And we more than made up for my sad 48 hours of denial in the morning. You may have even heard my thunderous moans of release at around 7:17 am, eastern time.

After I had delivered her a few morning cums, Mistress was even in an indulgent mood.

'We're driving together today, Slave. so I'll give you a day off from the cage.  But you'd better behave. Don't abuse your good fortune."

"You can count on me.... and thanks for the day off.... it's a little tender down there."

"Awww.... poor slave....."

Can you hear a little sarcasm there?

She did let me know that as the "solo" hot chick at Temple on Tuesday evening she got a lot of attention from several of the men who seemed anxious to do something they could atone for next year.

"That could be an interesting alternative to Ashley Madison, Slave. "

"True. But it might cut into your Friday nights or Saturday mornings."

Now, in the midst of writing this morning's blog, I was interrupted.

I heard Mistress's footsteps up stairs and then her page....

"Slave.... you'd better get up here if you want some action...."

You can bet I did, even if I ended up missing my normal publication deadline this morning.

Sorry, readers... but there are certain priorities here at the UCTMW World HQ that are not deferred, even at the expense of readership.

And Suzanne will be pleased to hear that Mistress checked to make sure that my hard steel ring was back in place before I was allowed to fuck her this morning.

"One day off was all you deserved, Slave."

Atonement Tuesday

Slave is home alone this evening, waiting for Mistress to return from her evening of atonement with some friends with which she shares a tribal religious heritage.

Old Mick is more of the "Tuesday night Bingo" school of religious training, and so was able to beg out on the trip to Temple.

But in my own way I am atoning tonight.

We left off this morning with Slave still on abstinence duty, because Mistress had a sleepover with her lover J. She cut me some slack and released me from my cage once I got home Monday evening, allowing me a vigorous bike ride and a good night's sleep without one of those "wake up in the middle of the night with an ambient hard-on straining against my steel confines" incidents.

Believe me, friends. You don't want to go there.

And despite what you skeptics out there think, particularly Suzanne and the WC, I was well behaved on the "no touch" honor system.

This afternoon, I was fantasizing that when we got home this evening there might be time for a "quickie" before Mistress headed off to her rendezvous with her God.

But some work calls and the quick turnaround required meant there was no time for more than some well deserved worship for Mistress as she laid back on our bed, her lovely, athletic legs spread, and read this morning's blog entry here in our executive suite.

"You're just going to have to wait until services are over Slave..... I'm sure you can handle a few more hours of cage time. A little more atonement on your behalf won't hurt, will it?"

"I suppose not, Mistress....."

I was not going to press my luck... After all, these is still hope for some action for my locked down cock later this evening. It's not like asking Sandy Koufax to pitch in the World Series.

Is there any religious prohibition  against operating a key on a little lock on the night of Yom Kippur?

Let's hope not.

Abstinence Monday

It's been a while since we've had a formal "abstinence day" for Slave here at the UCTMW World HQ. Yes, some of you would say that Mistress is a little too indulgent of her Slave. But the screws have been tightened a bit of late.

Sunday evening Mistress announced that she would be spending her Monday evening with her lover J.

"I suppose I'm just going to have to trust you with the cage Slave.... can I count on  you not to get in trouble?"

"Of course, Mistress."

And because she had a very early meeting Monday morning, there would be no "wake-up" sex.

"Sorry, Slave.... you're just going to have to suck it up for a day."

I was off to work, safely locked away in my cock cage. Mistress off to her own meetings. She even had a lunch meeting with a guy who has been doing the "linked in flirt" with her for a few months.

Of course, we talked several times during the day. She described details of her lunch meeting, with a guy who clearly would like to make more than a "business connection".

Did you tell him you had your husband's permission for such things, Mistress? (I suppose "permission" is a little presumptive.... "contractual right" might be better).

"No Slave..... though if I had, I'd never be able to get rid of him.... and he's an interesting guy, but a little too short for me."

At around 5:30 pm I headed off to a service shop to drop off my dead laptop to see if it can be revived (apparently the genius was not all that he was cracked up to be). And Mistress was heading up the highway for her dinner date and sleepover with J.

Whether I was sentenced to sleep in the cage was still in the up in the air.  I told Mistress I was hoping to take a bike ride.... something that might put her cock and balls in some jeopardy if I did it in the steel cage.

"Call me when you get home, Slave, and I will give you my sentence.... and you'd better ask politely."

You can bet I was very polite when I got home and called her. It took her a little while to get back to me. Who knows what I might have been interrupting over at the "Love Shack".  But when she did call back, and after I politely begged for my parole from the cage, she indulged me, though only on the condition that I follow the "no touch" rule and resecure the cage, with a photo to her this morning.

You can bet that all of her requirements were met. And I know that by the end of the work day, I will be anxious to get home to her for a little personal celebration of the end of what by then will be two days of abstinence.

Can I hear a "poor Mick"?

Mad (Wo)Man Across the Water

Mistress delivered as promised yesterday afternoon.  Once we both were home from various Saturday morning errands, the cage was unlocked and her cock was freed for the balance of the weekend. After a bike ride and a nap, though, there was an additional "penalty" to pay.

"If you can't find the riding crop, Slave, I will just have to use the shoe horn again."

But try as I might, the riding crop that used to be in our closet seems to have disappeared.  How does that even happen?  Did our cleaning staff make off with it? Or maybe one of the cute co-eds? Hopefully its not been put to use at some sorority party.

So there I was again, at the mercy of Mistress's long nasty shoe horn, absorbing a few more stinging smacks to my bony old white guy ass as a reminder of my indiscretion.  And afterwords, Mistress slid into her harness and directed me back into position for a nice Saturday afternoon ass fucking, as further reminder of my status.

It always amazes me how swiftly and intensely Mistress comes when taking me from behind. (Slave's not flexibly enough for the diaper position favored by Suzanne over at All Mine). Once she was satisfied, Slave was instructed to insert my Aneros, which assured Mistress of a particularly hard cock once she gave me permission to be the fucker as opposed to the fuckee.

The rest of the evening was spent with Slave enjoying the exploits of his alma mater logging another unexpected win.

But this morning there was a very early wake-up call. Mistress was determined to do the Big River swim downtown, about 1/2 mile over and back. The swim was cancelled in August do to unpleasant conditions (you don't even want to know!), and rescheduled for today.

But had the planners anticipated it would be 42 degrees at 7 am on the last Sunday in September?

No worries. The river temperature was a balmy 77 degrees we were told.

But as you can see, Mistress's nipples were feeling the chill as the sun rose on the banks of our big river this morning.

Fortunately, she and about 80 other hearty souls made it over and back through the fog slowly burning off under a bright sun. And the barge traffic was halted long enough to make their passage safe. Amazingly, no limbs were lost to the jaws of mutant cat fish.

Yes, she is still crazy after all these years.

50 Shades of TV Bondage Exploitation

Here at the UCTMW World HQ I am into my 4th consecutive cage day, but looking forward to a day off tomorrow for our switch day.

But unlike some of you out there, I am fortunate that .... at least so far.... Mistress has not made me sleep in that infernal contraption.

Last night we got home, planning a bike ride, some lay-about time, dinner and a movie. A nice friday night empty nest-a-thon.

But when we got home and I stripped off the work attire, Mistress played a little coy about when I might be released.

"just stand arounf naked for a while Slave and we'll see what Mistress desires."

"You wouldn't make me ride in this thing, Mistress.... would you? I could get hurt, and then what good would the work-a-day cock be to you?"

She didn't seem too sympathetic, but ultimately relented after I used my tongue and lips to provide some "service" before we headed out for our ride.

Later, back at home, she had me insert my "device" (the aneros) before I was allowed to make love to her.

"I might as well get a nice hard one, Slave....."

And she certainly did.

But since I will be going out for a while this morning .... to see my grandkids and visit my cranky Mother, I've already got that hard ring back on again. Hopefully there will be some wake-up sex in my morning before I go back on lock down.

I did want to share with you a little video clip I found Thursday night, when Mistress was off on her spontaneous date with J. It's been a while since Mistress and Slave have watched Weeds, which was kind of amusing in the early years, but went off into stoopid land a few seasons back. It's the show centered around Nancy,  the hot suburban mom who turns to selling marijuana to support her family after she becomes a young widow.

Every now and then it has dabbled in kinky sex. A few years back there was a memorable scene where the underemployed brother in law gets a surprise ass-fucking from a female rabbi who spent some time in the Israeli army.

Well this is the last season, and apparently they could not resist exploiting and tweeking the 50 Shades of Grey phenomenon. But its Nancy's son Silas, who started the series as a high school stoner, but has now transitioned to a 20 something lady killer, who get to wield a mean paddle.

Check it out: Weeds Bondage Scene

Back to Basic Training

Slave spent another day in the cage yesterday. And Suzanne over at All Mine will smugly enjoy the fact that Mistress has given me notice that it will be a permanent condition for the foreseeable future, with the possible exception of weekend days when I'm staying at home in her company. It's "Boot Camp" here at the UCTMW World HQ, with Slave's equipment in the steel "boot",

Guess I need to toughen up the skin down there in anticipation, because that steel ring can get a little pinchy. Any suggestions, fellow cock caged cuckolds?

So after some hearty wake-up sex here yesterday morning, the cage was locked on, and Mistress walked off with the key. Literally. She tucked it in her wallet.We were driving seperately to work, and she had a meeting to attend before heading home. She wasn't going to let me weedle her into unlocking myself when I got home.

"I should be home around 8 or so Slave..... you'll just have to wait until then to see if I'm disposed to let you loose for the night."

I had my own after work mission: to the Apple store to see if I could resuscitate my 4 year old, souped up limited edition black laptop. I had upgraded the memory, so that despite the age it had all the current apps and operating system that a new model would have. It was my "baby", sort of like Joe Biden's mythic Trans Am, that he washes in the West Wing driveway.

But somewhere between Denver and River City it had all gone sour. Making strange beeping sounds, and failing to reboot,  rather than going from 0 to 60 in 30 seconds.

The place is in temporary quarters and was packed when I arrived, all the noise from browsers and the machines they were playing with  creating a cacophony that made me wish for the types of head gear suitable to operating a weed eater.

As I waited for my "genius" to do his tricks, I noticed a guy with white gloves and a sleazy smirk, perched  on a stool operating a large table top computer. The screen was so large it wasn't hard to figure out what he was doing: trolling an "interracial" internet match-making site, and engaging in what was certainly cheesy chat with some woman half-a-world away.  Amazingly, the creeper was still there an hour later when I staggered out, having plunked down the cash for a new lap-top after my "collectors item" was declared DOA. 

We may need a memorial service, since it's the device I used to post virtually all of more than 1000  t  blog posts over the last three years here at  UCTMW.

Back at home, Slave re-jiggered his new computer, and even discovered the joys of back-up. So now I have a brand new computer that has the odd familiarity of what my old "desktop" looked like.

Beret off to Francois (remember him?) for setting up our "time machine" so it actually works!

What happened to Mistress you might ask?

Well she called me at around 7:45 and announced she was heading over to J's, as was her perogative. 

"I'm sort of in his neighborhood, Slave and it's been a couple of weeks."

"No problem, Mistress."

Actually, I thought it was a good development. It meant that Mistress was feeling secure enough to leave Slave to his own devices, and let off a little of her "steam" about my email transgression with her combined FWB, fuck buddy and confidant.

A little sympathy and sex on the side therapy would be good for her.

As I went through the "back up" transfer, made myself some dinner, and settled in for some "forward" leaning MSNBC rants I got some occasional updates from her via text message.

"Going out for some dinner, Slave....."

Then later.

"Back now, will visit a while and come home...."

And she was home shortly after 11 pm. She looked "refreshed" if a little spent, with that pleased after a good fucking look on her face.

"Tired of being locked up, Slave?"

"Let's say I'm looking forward to my release, Mistress...."

"Well there's no sex on your agenda tonight Slave.... I've had more than enough for one night....I suppose I could just make you sleep in it....."

"But that would be cruel...."

"It's what you deserve...."

We went through this little dance for a while, as Mistress shed her clothes and did her get ready for  bed rituals. But ultimately she showed mercy and removed the key from her wallet to release me.

As she talked a little about her evening with J -- how horny he was for her after two weeks away -- I must say that my cock twitched a bit in its new found freedom.

But I was not going to press my luck.....

This morning is another matter entirely.

Ouch!

Apologies, dear readers! (I know, according to Mitt Romney, one should never apologize, but I guess I'm destined to be among the 47% in a few years!) A combination of my apparently dead laptop and some readjustment to life back in River city has had us dark here since late Monday night.... and there have been some startling developments that Mistress has required me to report on to all of you.

"I need some sympathy, Slave...."

And so she shall have it, though maybe Slave deserves some sympathy too?

We left you back in the Denver airport, whining about the sudden disappearance of our Western Correspondence just when we could have used a little logistical support in the Mile High City. I had posted a blog. My laptop battery was dying. I tucked it away and began reviewing accumulated emails on my O-phone, Mistress sitting next to me.

And what pops up -- for both of us to see-- two emails in my in box from a woman from our past who Mistress has instructed me to have no further contact with.  Yes, that woman.

The emails were innocent enough (in my opinion), concerning some election day volunteer work, in response to some mass emails I had authored seeking volunteers. She was among several hundred on the distribution list. But Mistress was suspect, and remains so. Any communications had been forbidden, and this crossed that line.

I showed her the emails, before deleting them. She did not like their "way too familiar" tone. And though I've cut off contact with her for going on 4 years now, I'm not convinced that Mistress is convinced, if you get my drift.

This sent Mistress into a bit of an insecurity tailspin, and I am hoping that eventually my reassurance concerning my devotion to her will ultimately make her feel more secure.

In the meantime, this  formerly pampered house slave has had his leash tightened.

Tuesday night, I was told that from now on and until further notice I will be wearing my cage everyday... (but maybe not on weekends?)

After that, she told me to insert my aneros, then applied that particularly nasty long shoe horn to my ass, which had Slave bouncing off the bed in pain, and her telling me to stop squirming and stay "in position". 

Ouch!

Fortunately, she did let me fuck her afterwards. But only after she took the picture below and instructed me to post it and explain why I had been punished.

Yesterday, Mistress stopped by for worship in the morning at my office, and then at the end of the day. I hope that feeling my devoted tongue at work may help her bounce back from this setback.

But when we got home, it was back to business. First there was some reference to the possibility of making me sleep in the cage, Lucky for me she relented, after considerable groveling by me to the tune of how  I would much rather have sex with her than suffer the consequence of middle of the night erections banging up against that steel cage.

But before there was any love making in the UCTMW executive suite, she got out the shoe horn one more time to redden my bony old ass all over again.

Double ouch!

Hopefully Mistress will realize sooner rather than later that her Slave is hopelessly in love with her and would do nothing to mess with the amazingly wonderful life we share.

Wherefore Art Though WC?

Mistress and Slave were thrown a curve ball today.... we arrived at the Colorado Springs airport to learn that our flight to DFW was canceled. They had generously rebooked us on a flight that would leave in the morning Tuesday.

Nice.

But Slave went to work, despite some mendacity at American Airlines phone booking service, and found us an alternative flight out of Denver at 7 pm. It would get us to River City only about 15 minutes after our original scheduled arrival.

And even better, it gave us enough time to make a snap inspection of the UCTMW Mountain Zone HQ.

But when we reached out to our "head" of that office, he fell off the map. He knew we were in the area. Mistress even spoke with him on the way to Colorado Springs.  But despite our attempts to contact him and ask him to ferry us to Denver in the high priced company vehicle he's been tooling around in all these years.... Nada.  He disappeared into the internet ether.

Or did he? Could he have been surreptitiously checking his management team out all along as we waited for our flight? Check out this photo I took of a mysterious guy who seemed to be tailing us this afternoon, in a Bronco Jersey....

Sad Sunset For Our Summer

Molly and Mick are packing up for the long trek home this morning. Just a little time left for some wake-up sex before we hit the road for the airport, and return to the grind in River City for a busy fall. We're finding it very hard to let go.

Mistress is as brown as a berry (are there really brown berries?) after all that naked sunbathing this week. She gave the bears quite a show. In fact, yesterday morning woke to her perusing the internet for those "scandalous" photos of Kate Middleton caught in the south of France with her little princess boobies showing.

Of course, it's hardly a scandal for a upper crust English 20 something to be seen sunbathing topless in the south of France. Mistress and Molly took a trip there some years ago and learned that it is quite customary for proper English chicks, even moms with their children, to take the waters topless along the Mediterranean beaches, let alone when in the seeming privacy of their Provence villa. After seeing a such a vast collection of pasty Anglo-Saxon boobs of various dimensions, one began to pine for the days of more expansive bathing costumes.

Nor should Kate have been surprised that the paparazzi was lurking about, hoping to catch her with her tops down.  Isn't that their job? Maybe one way to preserve their privacy would be to schedule  a boob flashing photo op for all comers at the start of the holiday, in hopes that the "photo journalists" would have their fill, then move on to other matters, like the cat fight between President Hollande's ex and his current squeeze.

With the photos of Kate's royal breasts in mind, it was an odd coincidence then that as we hiked into the Rio Grande gorge yesterday around noontime for a final day at the "beach", we caught sight from the winding trail two nude bathers wallowing in the natural hot springs at the side of the river.

I did a bit of a double take.

'Is she giving him a blow-job, Mistress?"

We both squinted into the light reflecting off the river.

"Not sure, Slave...."

They did seem intertwined, her head dipping  towards his lap.... but at that distance, hard to tell.  Taking on the role of intrusive paparazzi, Slave whipped out his I-phone, just as she came up for air, and snapped the following shot.

But for the beard, I might have been able to pass this off to the tabloids as Prince Harry goes randy again.

Bummer.

Mick and Molly on Dining Out Etiquette

We had an excellent day here in our hideaway. Work chores had subsided, and after our "wake-up" sex we ventured out with a back-pack and some packed lunches to enjoy our environs - a hike to a local waterfall up in the mountains behind us, and then some "beach time" sunning and reading in the Rio Grande gorge. Mick even soaked his aching bones (from all the bike riding this week) in a toasty natural hot springs that you can see Dennis Hopper and Peter Fonda frolicking in with some hippie chicks if you have an old copy of Easy Rider around.

After a nap and some pre-dinner sex back in the UCTMW branch office, we headed to dinner at a new restaurant up in the hills a few miles from here, tucked into an old adobe building along a creek that a young couple had recently renovated. It's past tourist season here, so when we arrived we discovered only another table of diners in this cozy dinging room. They appeared to be an older lady (maybe in her mid-60's), her somewhat older husband, their daughter and another man, who may or may not have been the son-in-law.

Now oddly enough I had gotten an email I perused from Zagat.com earlier in the day setting out some obvious rules on "dining etiquette" when out at a "fine dining" restaurant. Here is a link.

One of the "rules" had something to do with table talk:

"With restaurants packing people together like sardines, it's inevitable that diners are going to overhear snippets of conversations from neighboring tables, so when you're rubbing elbows with the table next to you, keep it clean!" The advice was to avoid subjects like medical procedures and potty training....

So maybe my antenna were a little too highly tuned.  But it was a small room, and maybe voices carried against the hard adobe walls and rock floors. Or maybe Mistress and Slave are just too nosy, but....

We ordered and were digging into the tasty smoked trout appetizer when we overheard the older lady launch into a story from her husband's days as a high school basketball coach:

"There was this one player.... well he was really 'well endowed' if you get me, and one day, during a game all that equipment just .... popped out..... you should have seen all the jaws drop."

At about that point, both of our jaws dropped.

But the subject did not then change to who won the big game. No, the focus remained on what grammy kept describing as this player's "enormous dong."

She repeatedly came back to the underutilized resource angle here: what a waste it was that this man, as he grew older, lived with his mother.

"I mean why keep that thing to yourself....."

At that point Mistress whispered to me: "Well, at least the WC did not withhold his special occasion cock from the world like this sap. "

One of the men, using a softer tone, must have said something about not really paying attention to  such things, but she would have none of it.

"Oh, I've heard  you guys say there's some sort of 'code' where you don't look at each others cocks in the locker room, or when you take a pee, but I don't believe it, don't you want to know what the competition has going for it?"

Apparently to prove this point, she launched into a story about a girl in her high school class who, compared to her "dinky" breasts, had some ginormous "tits". There was a description of a shower sequence where our raconteur could not take her eyes of those "glistening boobs."

Dinner was lovely, and Mistress and Slave attempted to have a quiet and less provocative conversation, but it was hard not to listen in to the randy older lady next to us. At some point Mistress's ears picked up when she went on to describe the perils of a botched circumcision to a young man's love life.

"Ohhh.... do you think she's Jewish, Slave....."

"Not necessarily, Mistress."

As dinner concluded over some lovely home made blueberry ice cream, the conversation switched to politics, something Slave feels a bit more comfortable talking about in public. After I paid the check and Mistress slid off to the Loo, I stood to stretch my legs, and stepped over to share an opinion, affirming a bit of what I had heard as they laid into Mitt and his frat boy running mate.

The lady seemed a little concerned at first.

"Oh, good.... I was afraid you were going to give us some abuse and call us a bunch of crazy socialists."

"No.... "I said, as Mistress and I stepped away, " but we did find all those penis stories pretty amusing...."

But she was unrepentant.

"Oh dear.... did we spend too much time on dongs?"

Who are we to judge. Maybe I need a "Mick Collins / UCTMW" business card to share on such occasions.

Tackling Some Field Slave Duties

In between some office related tasks, our two a day sex regimen, and a bracing bike ride in a chilly wind that whipped up from the north, Slave took on some yard work yesterday.

Our "grounds" are a little wild here. Clumps of alfalfa popping up that the horse next door likes to poach. A smattering of prairie dog compounds that I have made a little less hospitable this week, and a big stand of red willow that seems to spread a little closer to our house every year. Despite the dry climate, trees and shrubs just keep growing. So every now and then Slave needs to get out my saw and pruners and wack them back. (No, please don't confuse me with Dubya. It's not exactly "clearing brush".)

I think Mistress thought I was a chewing some loco weed when I took my saw to a tree limb abutting our patio. She let me know yesterday that one of my more annoying habits is that I can get a little carried away with the task at hand and be oblivious to it's potential impact on others. And she seemed a little startled when the sucker finally came crashing down.

But in my defense, I want to point out that unlike the lumberjack wannabes over at All Mine, I did not have to make an emergency room run after this task was completed. I made sure that I was in the right location when it came time to yell "timberrrrrr".

Further, I had enough good sense to eyeball this tree's length and know that it would not even come close to disturbing Mistress in repose:

Cheating?

It was an unusually Irish like day here in the Southwest yesterday. And maybe the timing was good. Mistress had some lengthy conference calls, and Slave had some work to do as well. But we did fit in some nice wake up sex here at 7800 ft., and squeezed in a nice vigorous bike ride in a fine high altitude mist. This morning I'm hoping for some clearer skies to see if the mountain tops acquired any snow overnight.

Last night we went to a local bar / restaurant to hear one of our local favorites perform with some friends - doing his piano man routine with a little John Lennon tossed into the mix. No matter the weather or season, this lovely old adobe building always seems packed on Wednesday night when our friend Jimmy is playing. And if you've been lucky to acquire a four-top, as we were last night, it's likely the hostess will do some "match making" and seat another couple with you.

Sure enough, after we started our dinner we were joined by a couple relatively new to town. He's a 39 yr. old art dealer. She's a 25 yr. old biologist. When I did the mental math, I realized the age gap was almost exactly like the years separating  Mick and Molly.

And between songs we picked up the back story: they had met at a local bar a few months back. He had just moved here. She was just passing through on her way to Kansas City to start a job with a consulting firm.

Sparks flew that night. And somehow, withing a few weeks (she had to retrieve her dog) she was back here, moving in with him, looking for a new job in this rather backwater but beautiful community. 

It reminded me a little of the lightening that struck when Molly and I met, more than 24 years ago. But sadly, we were encumbered: both married, me with two kids, etc.

I told the young lady that she was lucky to have the freedom to follow her dreams and heart when that lightening bolt struck. If they're very lucky, they may be here and happy together 24 years from now, the way Mistress and her devoted Slave are. Though we sure wish we could find the means and moxie to be here in the shadow of the Sangre de Christo Mountains full time, rather than back working in River City.

But of course, we plan to continue making the best of our adventures, no matter where we call home.

Now.... on a completely different subject, as folks who have used Ashley Madison in the past to help Mistress acquire her lover J, we found the attached article about the billboard below more than amusing:

Of course, as far as we are concerned, cuckolding is not cheating, is it? Plus, we have nothing to hide in our tax returns.

Where's Molly?

Mistress and Slave have been enjoying out week away. Though there has been time spent working "remotely" (does that mean disengaged, or away from the office, or both?), we've had plenty of time for sex, bike riding,  sex, listening to local music, and more sex here at our Mountain hideaway. And the sun has allowed Mistress plenty of time for her favorite passtime: sunbathing naked while reading a book.

She's also tried to keep in touch with J, who no doubt is missing having her a little closer at hand. I tried to help the other day by surreptitiously texting him a photo of his "fuck buddy" as she lay naked out on our patio, the sun dappled mountains forming a scenic background.

"He says I must be a nudist, Slave...."

The photo above shows Mistress talking to J on her cell yesterday afternoon, right before we headed for a bike ride along a trail that borders the Rio Grande gorge.

We do love the folksy quirks of the local culture and habits out here, which are so different from the "stick up our asses" mindset of River City and its environs. The other night we were at a local music festival featuring various forms of "Americana" music - a swirl of folk, country, rock and swing that seems timeless and well suited for dusty trails, big sky and craggy mountains.

During a break a local "celebrity" known as "Mattress Mary" (I know, she sounds like a woman of ill repute from South Pacific, but she actually runs a bedding and mattress store; she also reviews films on the local radio station) took the stage to ask help finding her dog "Molly". She reminded us that this particular black Lab appears in her billboards and print ads. The dog was boarded at a nearby ranch when she went on a recent trip, and somehow wandered off.  She assumes a good Samaritan may have taken in Molly, and wanted to spread to word that Molly's owner wants her back. Last night, when I took Mistress out for her favorite local cuisine - spelt crust pizza smeared with goat cheese - we saw this poster as part of Mattress Mary's campaign to reclaim Molly:

I'm just using my vast sex-blogging audience to spread the word: Help find Molly!

Let's hope he didn't encounter one of those bears lurking about.

Honey Trap?

After Mistress read the morning entry, I think she was a little surprised that I proceeded to some vanilla, but muy caliente wake up sex here in our remote UCTMW southwestern HQ.

"No switch today, Slave?", she asked, after she had given me permission to cum.

"I thought I'd save it until this afternoon, Mistress."

"Just don't interfere with my sun bathing, Slave."

"Would I do that?", I teased.

After a bike ride, we did spend most of the afternoon out in the patio, with Mistress completely naked, stretched out on her chair, ber trusty kindle in hand.

Slave was reading to, in between forays in our yard in my on going campaign to encourage a pesky colony of prairie dogs to "move on".  I will not share the inhospitable details of my effort, but it did involve shredding an old bath towel into strips. And I set aside 4 of them for later that afternoon.

Around 3:45 pm Mistress was making sounds suggesting she was "done" for the day's sunbathing.

"Not quite yet, Mistress."

I reappeared a few minutes later with my terry cloth strips, and proceeded to tie her wrists and ankles to the chair.

"I thought you had forgotten about switch day, Slave!"

And then, once I had her secured, I went in for some other tools: Her hitachi magic wand and an extension cord.

First I used my lips and tongue to savor her clean shaven folds, which had been marinating all day in the warm high altitude sun. The flavors of salt, sunscreen and her natural musky juices intermingled in a heady cocktail.

Then as I gently applied the hitachi as she squirmed against her bonds, I teased a bit.

"You know we do have some organic honey inside.  I'd love to get a photo of a bear in our yard after yesterday's run in.  What if I smeared some on your breasts and folds, then sat quietly a few yards away with my camera, waiting for events to unfold?  That might make for a great photo op."

"What, you want me to get mauled?"

"These aren't grizzlies, Mistress.... they'd probably just lick the honey off with those rough tongues...."

Of course, Slave would never do that, would he?

It all became a little moot, as the hitachi was having it's inevitable impact on Mistress's wanton body. Soon she was squirming harder, forcing herself against it's churning head, and begging for permission to cum.

And Slave was indulgent.

I do enjoy watching her go over the edge, bound securely to her chair, eyes scrunched shut in ecstasy.

Soon she was unbound (at least her ankles) and we proceeded back to our bedroom, allowing Slave to take his well earned reward to polish off our switch day sex.

I just feel sorry for the bears' lost opportunity.

Boo Boo, is That You?

Yesterday morning, Mistress woke to call from her lover J. He was calling on his way to a golf match and wanted to make sure was all ok with her out here in the high dessert. When I heard her voice I knew it was time to shut down my lap-top, make her some coffee and get her primed for some wake-up sex.  Which, of course was particularly lovely out here in our favorite bedroom, views of the mountain looming over us as we relaxed after some lovey start the vacation right cum(s) for both of us.

About an hour later, Slave was out in our back yard when I saw something that was unique for these parts. On the flight here I had read an article in the Times about bears coming ever closer to human turf in Colorado and New Mexico this year due to the agonizing draught. They are desperate to gorge before the winter hibernation season, and have been forced to loot trash bins and invade kitchen pantries when a window or door are left open.

But it's something we don't expect here, on a flat plain, about 1 mile or so before the Sangre de Christo mountains pop up behind us, with lots of fences between us and bear country.

Nevertheless, as I pulled some weeds that had popped up on our patio, no more than about 10 feet from me, an adolescent bear scampered between a low adobe wall and a stand of red willow bushes.
The little beast was about 4 feet long, and maybe 3 feet high on all fours as he/she casually strolled by.  Of course this suggested that Mama bear, no doubt considerably bigger was not far, so I simply held my ground rather than follow the little rascal.

I brought this up later to Mistress, who was sorry she had missed my sighting.  It did not prevent her from napping out on the patio later in the afternoon, though, and letting the mid-afternoon sun grace her naked breasts.

But it my impact my switch day plans for her.

"Mistress, what if I tie you to that chair tomorrow, smear a little organic honey on your clean shaven folds, and see what develops?"

That would be one of those horny babes in bondage meets wildlife story that 'Nilla would go for wouldn't it?

"If you tie me out there you better not leave me alone, Slave."

Probably a good idea. Now I have more to worry about than the Fed Ex man getting an eyeful.

Weekend Update From Our Mountain Hideaway

Mistress and Slave made it to the mountains after a long travel day that started at around 4 am yesterday in River City. It already seems like fall here, with some always welcome rain. The mountains were lit last night by lightning, after the sun broke through just long enough for one more spectacular sunset.

But I suspect our loyal readers are saying to themselves now.... what about Thursday night, Mick?  Did you ever get break that daunting two days of abstinence?

Well, as it turned out Mistress did make it home around 6:15 from work.

"Don't worry, Slave.... I told J to come over at around 7:15."

Which gave us ample time for Mick to "take the edge off" with Mistress in our executive suite.

I guess I am pampered after all.

When the moaning of Slave's release from that long 48 hours of abstinence was over, Mistress made an unwelcome discovery.

She had mistakenly left her laptop at work. Something she'd need on our holiday. Slave volunteered to retrieve it for her. So when I got home after the 40 minute round trip, J had already arrived for our "DNC watch" party.

Now Mistress is never one to overdress for a private night at home with her Slave. It's not uncommon for her to be in her "sleeping attire" for dinner, or some TV watching when the sullen teens are gone.

(If she tries that when they are here she gets the "EWWWWW" response, with a suggestion that she put some real clothes on.)

But what's the protocol when an old married couple  have a friend over for dinner who also happens to be the wife's lover?

AS I came up the stairs I was curious what "scene" I might encounter.

I was not disapointed.

There was Mistress spread out on the couch in our "TV room", head on J's lap. She had the multicolored confection of a clingy top shown in Thursday's blog, with a matching yellow thong covering her firm ass and clean shaven folds. It seemed that J's hand was lingering over her breast as they greeted me.

It also seems that J has gotten over the earlier reticence he had about displays of affection while his lover's husband is about.

Suffice it to say we had a fun evening. Slave whipped up some dinner which we ate watching the "undercard" of speakers. Mistress poked fun of her two men as we "ranted" over the speakers and the related banal commentary.  With her head on my lap as we watched, and her legs stretched over J's lap, both of us gently fondling her through the evening, Mistress appeared to be in a heavenly attention sponge place. Indeed the musky aroma of her thinly veiled folds seemed to form a little cloud of contentment over us.

But even as we got into the main event,  the President's acceptance speech, I could tell Mistress was fading. She had a long day, after a sleep over with her lover, and the prospect of the alarm at 3:30 am of so was on her mind.

"I'm going upstairs to bed..... J, when you're done here, why don't you join me."

Yes, the sleeping arrangements had been made clear. Slave would get Mistress's undivided attention on our vacation. It wouldn't be fair to let J sleep alone before we left, would it?

So after the President was done, J said his goodnight to join Mistress upstairs in the bed of one of our daughters. Fortunately, he was able to sleep in a little later, after Mistress kissed him goodbye in the wee hours on Friday morning.

It's still dark here on Saturday morning. But I hear Mistress stirring. Better not leave her lonely!

Have a great weekend, all.

HNT/ Another Abstinence Day?

Slave adhered to the "no touch" rule last night, letting "Slick Willy" lull me to sleep after an evening solo at the UCTMW World HQ.

When I woke, I texted Mistress who had slept over at her lover J's house, asking for some instructions for the day ahead:

"Morning, Mistress. Hope you are feeling better. Cage today?"

I didn't hear back until just before I was heading to work.

"Slept late, Slave. No cage required."

Ahhh. A respite from its unfriendly confines, that will make some of you mutter about my "pampered" status.  But I was more interested in when (or if) I might have a shot at some "action" with Mistress.

On the way to work, she did give me a call, reporting that she had gotten a good night's sleep, and that despite her aches and pains, she had indulged J with some action of his own.

And she was acutely aware of her Slave's own plight.

"Poor, Slave. Are you horny? At least I'm giving you some good blog material."

There was only a hint of sarcasm.

And I might still have a wait in store.  She's invited J to sleep over at our house tonight. I'll be fixing dinner. Then we will all get to watch the proceedings from Charlotte together.

But since J will be "in the house", Mistress, always the generous hostess, will likely be sharing his bed. And then we have to get up very early Friday morning for our flight to the Southwest. 

"Poor Slave.... you may actually have to wait until Friday afternoon before I allow you to get off the Abstinence train....."

Ouch.

But there is a little light in that long dark tunnel of denial.

J is coming over at 6:30 pm.

"If we can both get home by 6 pm, you might get a little treat, Slave."

I think I can arrange that.

Cage Day in River City

It's been a long day for the pampered Slave today. The last time I "got any" was Tuesday morning, our pre-work wake up sex. Lovely, of course.

But since then.... well, it's been a dry spell. When we got home last night, Mistress was feeling sickly. Flu like aches and pains. And although I gave her a little post bike ride worship, I could tell she was fading. She couldn't even handle the gnocchi with salmon, asparagus and fresh tomato sauce I prepared.

We spent the rest of the evening in bed, me watching the DNC, enjoying the speeches and commentary, poor Mistress trying to get some sleep.

She should have taken a sick day. But she had a meeting at 7:45 am she could not cancel, and work to do before we left town on Friday for a belated summer holiday. Needless to say, she had to get up too early for any wake-up sex here. Plus I would not have expected any considering her ill health.

But she did  make her wishes clear before the dust settled on Michelle Obama's amazingly impactful speech.

"I'm sure you're a little horny with all that political testosterone flowing, Slave. So you'd better be in your cage tomorrow."

"Of course, Mistress."

So we were up at 6:15 am. Mistress hit the shower, trying to shed her aches and queasy tummy, while I made some coffee and scrunched my cock and balls through that steel ring that seats my cock cage.

After she climbed out of the shower, Mistress closed the lock on the cage, and made a little show of taking possession of the key. I noted that she had a bag packed.

"If I feel up to it, I'll be over at J's house tonight Slave. It might be the last time we get to see one another before our trip.... I think he misses me...."

"I'm sure he does, Mistress.... but what if you don't feel well?"

We left our evening plans open, but at around 3 pm or so we had a chance to talk. She was still less than 100% but....

"He really wants me to come over... he says he wants to nurse me back to health, Slave...."

Well that's only fair. I had Mistress nursing duty last night. It wouldn't be fair to hog her, would it.

So here I am watching the DNC again, hoping Mistress is feeling better.

We did talk a little bit earlier. I got her attention by texting a photo of her Slave's caged up cock. She seemed to be feeling a little better. J's ministrations seemed to be having some positive effect. She even gave me the secret location of the key, so her slave would not have the discomfort of waking with the ugly sensation of my work-a-day cock acting out and banging into my cage's not so "friendly confines".

I'm already hearing Suzanne's sarcastic doubts about whether Slave will honor the "no touch" rule.

  Yee of little faith.

I'm just going to focus on the politics and patiently wait until after work tomorrow evening for my "reward". At least I'm out of that cage!

So, in the absence of any "action" here, I will simply share the attached video. Last night our First Lady did a great job of describing her role as Mom-in-Chief. But here's the first lady from another perspective, talking about how her staff and friends are reading "Fifty Shades of Grey". But not her of course.  Though she has some interesting if discrete comments on why the book has seemed to resonate:
Michelle on 50 Shades

Maybe after the election she will relax a bit and release her inner Domme?

Rainy Labor Day

It had been a while since Mistress and Slave were home in River City for this wend of summer weekend. More frequently, we've been out west, or maybe at the beach in Michigan for a football game at my alma mater. And with the remnants of Isaac slowly rolling through the region it was a rather dark and rainy day here.

Not a bad day at all for chilling inside and having slow and leisurely sex. Of course, there was our traditional wake-up session, which I was able to initiate a little later than planned because the rain was going to interfere with our planned early morning bike ride.

After I made sure Mistress had her full compliment of orgasms, I was off on a little outing with my cute grandsons, and Mistress took our sorority girl and her friend out for a mid-day brunch.

Later, we took a little mid-afternoon nap in the executive suite, and about that time Slave got some good news, though I'm not sure how Mistress received it. Due to some unanticipated family developments, J had to defer their planned sleepover last night. Now Mistress may have missed her opportunity to test her abs with J's unique brand of aerobic fucking last night. But Slave did not have to worry about whether he'd been sleeping in that infernal cock cage.

Let's hope for her sake they can reschedule before we head off to the Southwest.

Plus there was a bonus in my future: After a very wet bike ride, and the Sorority Girl's departure back to campus, we pealed off our sodden shorts and tops and had  a long pre-dinner matinee back in the executive suite. Mistress even directed me to insert that clever aneros, assuring that her Slave's cock was more than ready once I had used some of my finest worship skills to deliver a starter cum.

Now I have a much better attitude about rainy labor days at home.

The Mystery of Mistress's Sore Abs

With our Sorority Girl asleep down the hall on Switch Day, it was hard to develop the sort of loud and gaudy Switch Day adventure that Mistress certainly deserved yesterday morning. But I did administer some discrete spanks, hopefully muffled by the sounds of our classical music station playing on the radio. And as a reward for her "suffering" Mistress got some attention from her favorite power tool. There is nothing like the sight of those tight ass muscles flexing and straining when I slide the Hitachi between her thighs from behind, and Mistress pumps against it to reach her hard worked for cum.

And she was even polite enough to ask permission!  Once she was done, Slave made sure to fully exercise his Switch Day privilege of fucking her to my heart's content, first from behind, then "straight on 'til morning".

Afterwords we had a nice morning bike ride, and a rather laid back balance of the day. But Mistress did have one complaint:

"My abs are really sore this morning, Slave....."

Hmmmm.

"Sounds like J's athletic sexual stylings got to you Mistress...."

"Maybe, Slave..... am I out of shape?"

Well, as you can see from today's illustration, Mistress's legs and ass are quite firm. But there must be something about the way she and J were fucking Saturday morning that betrayed a weakness in her "core".

"I wonder what it is Mistress.... the cock riding, or him pumping into you  with your legs up?"

"Not sure, Slave...."

She and J were talking about it over the phone yesterday evening as Slave was preparing dinner for the two of us.... salmon poached in a sauce of fresh late summer tomatoes and eggplant that I must say was pretty darn delicious.

"I'm not sure what it is you did to me J, but my abs are still feeling it today."

If any of you have thoughts to share with Mistress on how to better "prepare" her abs for these sessions with J, feel free to pass them on. My advice is sit-ups, but there may be something less painful to prescribe.

In any event, Mistress's attitude appears to be "no pain, no gain". She mentioned to me yesterday her plan to head over to J's "love shack" late this afternoon, after our Sorority girl heads back to campus. With the two of us heading off to our Southwest hideaway late this week, it seems only fair that she slip in a sleepover with her lover when she can.

"But I may make you wear the cage while I'm gone, Slave.... just to make sure you don't take advantage of my absence...."

Sleeping in that steel cage? 

Let's hope she shows a little mercy.

Slave's Lonely, Caged Wait is Rewarded

Wondering how the sexual cliffhanger resolved itself here at the UCTMW World HQ yesterday?

After I finished the entry, and at the appointed hour ("Don't wake me before 7:30, slave"), I walked upstairs to wake Mistress, first making sure the steel ring for my cake was safely ensconced at the base of my cock and balls.

Thank God it wasn't a cold morning here in River City.

I let Mistress read the blog, as I worshiped those clean shaven folds, giving her a little warm up cum.

But the decision was made that Mistress would be nice to her lover and not make him the beneficiary of "sloppy seconds". It had been a while since he had the opportunity to fuck her properly, so why not allow him "first dibs" of the day.

Instead, looking outside to see that the Isaac spin-off rains had not arrived yet, we changed into our riding togs and headed out for a morning ride on our local hills Back in the Executive suite, we showered together, then Mistress locked her cock up tight for the day.

She waved the little key in my face, and made a bit of a show of sticking it in her wallet, before primping for her morning "date".

She shared their agenda in amusingly blunt terms.

"We'll be going out for breakfast first, Slave.... then back to his house for sex....Should be home by around 3...."

It does sound kind of brazen when you put it that way, doesn't it. Maybe not something that works for everyone. But I happily gave her a kiss goodbye, and admired her shapely form in a sort of black tennis dress with the little gator over her left breast. I even inspected the lacy black undies she had slithered into  to please her lover. Mick's caged cock gave a little twitch at the sight and aroma of her as I kissed my wife goodbye for the day.

As for me, I settled into watching Saturday morning opener for my alma mater's football team from foreign shores. Fortunately, they rose to the occasion, unlike my work-a-day cock, that would not be doing any "rising" until Mistress returned with her key.

After the game, I ran some local errands, worked in the yard (no chain saws) and did some laundry. The sorts of things a helpful Slave should do when his Mistress is out with her lover, right?

Our Sorority girl had been out overnight at a friend's apartment, and came home around 1 pm. I told her that mom was at a work meeting and would be home around 3 pm, in case she was curious.

(Fortunately, I do think we have her trained enough to give us a call or text if she is coming home, but there is still a bit of "style cramp" here this weekend.)

And Mistress did make it home as scheduled, though looking rather dazed, her hair a bit disheveled.

We adjourned to the bedroom, informing the sorority girl that her parents would be "resting" for a while.

"So do you want to fuck me now, Slave....."

I try not to appear too desperate on such occasions, but my body language and words were definitely sending affirmative signals.

She gave me a brief summary of the day's activities.

"J loves those big weekend breakfasts, He's a regular at this place.... then it was back to his place for about two hours of sex.... that athletic thing where I'm at the side of the bed, legs up, and he's standing there fucking me....."

No doubt Mistress had her fill of orgasms over those two hours.

"It's nice you have the variety Mistress....."

Mistress and I are more typically the 20 minutes a session team, always rewarding, and suitably to two a days worked into a busy schedule.... but with J, it's definitely more of a cinematic "epic" on the rarer occasions when they can coordinate their schedules . It's like comparing a Woody Allen movie to Lawrence of Arabia, I suppose.

In any event, this talk about Mistress's adventures caused me to become acutely aware that her cage was still locked tight around her cock.

Somehow I communicated this "situation" to her, and she retrieved the key from her wallet, setting me free. I returned the favor by savoring those accumulated flavors and juices that had gathered between those firm thighs.

"Do I taste differently, Slave...."

"Absolutely....."

Her normal sweet flavors were mingled with something more primal and savory. Hard to describe. I guess you had to be there.

And after I had used my tongue and lips to please her with yet another cum, she indulged me with the privilege of deploying my liberated cock with a certain wanton abandon.

Ahhhh.  Definitely worth the wait.

But another day has dawned. Switch Day in fact. And though the sorority girl is sleeping down the hall, I do need to come up with a special treat for Mistress this AM, don't you think?

Change Up

The weekend schedule I announced here yesterday morning was scrambled a bit. The rain from Isaac is headed this way, so J decided to get his golfing in last night rather than today. And it was probably a good thing, since our cute Sorority girl decided to flee her bucolic if boring college town and come back home to visit her "lonely" parents.

So maybe it was a good idea that there was no "sleepover" with Mistress sleeping in another bedroom last night.

But that did give us some time for our own special fun. We went off for a nice bike ride once home from work last night. Then a joint shower that turned into some quality time between the sheets.  Mistress even instructed me to insert my "device" (the aneros) to assure that her cock was suitably firm and randy for the occasion.

Today's plan is for Slave to stay home and watch the early morning kick-off of my alma mater's football season. Then Mistress will be heading over to J's "loveshack" for what is likely to be a Saturday morning "booty call".

But she surprised me with some additional orders.

"I want you in your cage tomorrow, Slave."

Hmmmm. While it is unlikely that Slave will abuse his privileges without a lock down, it may be that Mistress has decided to take fuller advantage of her contractual rights.

I suppose one question remains: does Mistress plan to have sex with her Slave this AM before she heads over to J's? Or not? Who will get the privilege of "sloppy seconds" today here in River City?

We'll let you know tomorrow.