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.