Game Day Rituals

Here at the UCTMW World HQ we're counting down the hours until our flight to our SW hideaway Monday morning. Sadly, we're stuck here in the hot, sticky River City air because of some work demands for Mistress. She's got a client dinner tonight, and will be dragged into a long busy day tomorrow that will keep both of us out late Sunday evening.

So it's been nice to go a little slower here today, which just happens to be the kick-off of my alma mater's football season.

Our game day schedule included some robust wake-up sex, an outing at a local park and farmer's market with my cute grandkids, then a midday bike ride in this yucky heat. That got us back home about an hour before "game time".

My preparation was a shower, and handling a few household chores as I counted down the moments before kick-off.  And of course, right before kick-off, I made sure to discharge a little of my anticipatory excitement by lavishing Mistress's clean shaven folds with some attention from my lips and tongue.

Some "good luck" worship can't hurt can it?

So far my team looks good, but then again, the competition is of the "cup-cake" variety.

Of course, Mistress is here too, just across the room but she has a different approach to the "excitement" of collegiate football:

 But at least when she takes a nap at home, rather than at the Stadium, she doesn't have to overdress.

What's in Your Bag?

After the second worship session behind my closed office door yesterday, Mistress and Slave stopped at a political fundraiser, and then walked down to the local football palace to join some friends at the last "pre-season" (i.e. pretend) game.

It was Mistress's first trip to the stadium since the new bag policy was introduced by the NFL, and Apparently I misunderstood the rules.

I had understood that purses that were no more than 12 inches x 12 inches could survive the strict scrutiny of the cracker-jack security guards, but apparently, Slave was wrong. It turns out the 12 x 12 rule applies only to those goofy clear plastic bags that they are marketing with your team logos on them. So poor Mistress, who had already re-loaded her collection of lipsticks and grooming "essentials" into a smaller purse, was now forced to unload them all into a "complimentary" (not counting the ridiculous ticket prices) flimsy plastic bag under the curious eyes of a rather large security stooge.

She was not pleased.

"So if you're carrying tampons, or other items of a personal nature, you have to let everyone in the stadium check them out?  Nice."

The new policy seems to allow non-plastic bags only of this size:

This comes after they made lots of cash selling lots of branded stadium purpose bags and back packs like this one, that are now banned:

So now they're selling branded clear plastic bags in the stadium souvenir shops. No doubt next season, they'll say that the overpriced team jerseys they sold all those eager fans  have to be replaced by transparent jerseys.  That way we can check out everyone's tattoos!

That got us thinking about what other items one might have on hand.

We already know that because of the wanding that happens next in this security process, Slave could not wear his cage into the stadium.

But what if Mistress wanted him to slide into it once inside. We were sharing one of those elite stadium suites last night, with a private restroom.... I suppose Mistress could have brought the cage with her in her bag, and instructed me to slide into it once we arrived at the suite. But.... in her plastic bag, that would have raised a few eyebrows....

"Hmmmm..... what's that little steel cage you've got in your bag, Molly.....?"

Fortunately, that's not something Slave has to worry about much this season.

"I suspect this is the last time you're dragging me down here this season, Slave...."

No Mistress is not much of a football fan. She may need to recruit a new boyfriend to keep her company on Sunday afternoons this fall.

HNT - Late Summer Slurpy

The traditional last week of summer is here. And it's brought the steamiest weather we've had all summer. Too hot to bike. Hell, it's too hot to walk around the block. So we've been hiding out at the HQ, getting back into our two a day empty nest groove. 

Plus today I had a bonus: Mistress has been camped out here most of the day using a spare office. She's a bit of a distraction for some of my male colleagues, one of whom even lured her out for a little designer coffee "date". And I wasn't even invited!

Fortunately I did get to engage in some pre/lunch worship, and I have it on good authority that another opportunity will present itself before we head to a pre-dinner fund raising event. 

I need to let Mistress  hang out here more often!

The Sex Blogger's Code of Ethics

Yesterday, Slave, with due humility, reported that I had not had sexual discharge for a shocking period of 48 hours. Of course, my account was 100% true. Mistress and her Slave had sex Saturday morning, but intervening events, including a late Saturday night, a 9 hour Sunday drive to the east coast, and a partial return had denied me the chance for sexual release until Monday morning, in a no-tell motel somewhere in the “mountains” of central Maryland.

But in a comment left here yesterday, a certain Domme, who purports to have both a panty wearing and chastity device equipped subservient husband and  a macho Trophy Cock armed Alpha lover, accused your humble author of fabricating my 48 hours of cruel denial.

After I recovered from my shock at this false allegation, I realized that the integrity of our entire journalistic enterprise here was at stake. It required an appropriate (if measured) response. In the absence of a battery of cruise missiles off the Massachusetts shore, I figured it was time to go back to our journalistic roots here, and remind ourselves (and our competitors) about what this is all about: Journalistic Integrity, as summarized in the Journalists Code of Ethics…. So how do we measure up?

Preamble
Members of the Society of Professional Journalists believe that public enlightenment is the forerunner of justice and the foundation of democracy. The duty of the journalist is to further those ends by seeking truth and providing a fair and comprehensive account of events and issues.

Of course, all we do here at UCTMW is about  seeking  the truth and providing a fair and comprehensive account…. Sure, sometimes I truncate the order of events, fabricate an occasional quote in the name of efficient and clever story telling, and gloss over some inconvenient details (like the occasional stubble amongst the clean shaven folds), But it’s all in the name of reporting a higher truth….

Conscientious journalists from all media and specialties strive to serve the public with thoroughness and honesty. Professional integrity is the cornerstone of a journalist's credibility.

Naturally, our overarching goal here is to “serve the public”. I’m thinking of all you guys in Russia, or the Middle East who download those photos of the lovely Molly. I mean, if all you have are neighbors in Burkas, you need some comparative anatomy lessons. If I crop out some body parts, does that mean I am not being “thorough” enough?

Seek Truth and
Report It
Journalists should be honest, fair and courageous in gathering, reporting and interpreting information.

You have to admit it takes a lot of courage to publish the WC’s commentaries, which are a punctuation free zone!

And what about that picture of me in the cock cage?

Journalists should:

—    Test the accuracy of information from all sources and exercise care to avoid inadvertent error. Deliberate distortion is never permissible.

Deliberate distortion? Just because our dialogue here is always pithy, clever and succinct? Don’t you think we always talk that way?
— Diligently seek out subjects of news stories to give them the opportunity to respond to allegations of wrongdoing.

You mean I have to give the WC a chance to explain his AmEx charges before I accuse him of buying drums of high end lubricant at $20/ounce?
— Identify sources whenever feasible. The public is entitled to as much information as possible on sources' reliability.

Wait, you mean I should be using real names here?
— Always question sources’ motives before promising anonymity. Clarify conditions attached to any promise made in exchange for information. Keep promises.

Just because the WC wants to get into Mistress’s pants, does that mean he’s not a reliable source?  I never considered that.
— Make certain that headlines, news teases and promotional material, photos, video, audio, graphics, sound bites and quotations do not misrepresent. They should not oversimplify or highlight incidents out of context.

At UCTMW we never use headlines as teasers to draw attention. Like that headline a few weeks back, “Slave Dines In. Mistress Eats Out?” Didn’t folks know that was about lunch plans?
— Never distort the content of news photos or video. Image enhancement for technical clarity is always permissible. Label montages and photo illustrations.

Fortunately, I have never had to photo shop Mistress’s head on another person’s body. But does this mean I can’t delete here head altogether?  And yes, that really was my work-a-day cock inside that cage, just in case you were wondering. I know, not that impressive.
— Avoid misleading re-enactments or staged news events. If re-enactment is necessary to tell a story, label it.

This doesn’t mean those clever descriptions of our staff meetings does it?
— Avoid undercover or other surreptitious methods of gathering information except when traditional open methods will not yield information vital to the public. Use of such methods should be explained as part of the story

This doesn’t include photos of large, tastelessly dressed purveyors of sex toys does it? I mean, they were walking on a public street for God’s sake!
— Never plagiarize.

I thought imitation was the sincerest form of flattery?
— Tell the story of the diversity and magnitude of the human experience boldly, even when it is unpopular to do so.

Isn’t this plagiarized from the Star Trek intro?
— Examine their own cultural values and avoid imposing those values on others.

We would never expect your run-of-the-mill Domme/Sub couple to engage in switch days. It’s just our thing.
— Avoid stereotyping by race, gender, age, religion, ethnicity, geography, sexual orientation, disability, physical appearance or social status.

Dang. We’re back to those sex toy sales ladies, aren’t we? But at least it’s OK to stereotype Tea Partiers!

— Support the open exchange of views, even views they find repugnant.

That’s what the comments section is for. We even welcome those of you who think Slave should spend more time in his cage!
— Give voice to the voiceless; official and unofficial sources of information can be equally valid.

The voiceless WC is always welcome to explain his exotic if self indulgent lifestyle here….
— Distinguish between advocacy and news reporting.

Analysis and commentary should be labeled and not misrepresent fact or context.

We never try to proselytize here at UCTMW about the superiority of the female led lifestyle…. I suspect Mistress would be happy to submit to a good spanking if someone was man enough to administer it!
— Distinguish news from advertising and shun hybrids that blur the lines between the two.

If only we had rolled out the UCTMW logo coffee cups and T-shirts before google banned blogsploitation!

Minimize Harm
Ethical journalists treat sources, subjects and colleagues as human beings deserving of respect.

Whenever we run a photo of the WC, I try to remind people that he’s really not that scary looking in real life.

—    Show good taste. Avoid pandering to lurid curiosity.

Pander? We just put up those photos of Molly to celebrate the majesty of God’s handiwork!

—     

—   

Act Independently
Journalists should be free of obligation to any interest other than the public's right to know.

Journalists should:

—    Refuse gifts, favors, fees, free travel and special treatment, and shun secondary employment, political involvement, public office and service in community organizations if they compromise journalistic integrity.

—    — Disclose unavoidable conflicts..
— Deny favored treatment to advertisers and special interests.

To be clear, if someone offered us a trip to Rome in exchange for promoting their product or service, I am sure I would ultimately disclose it after we came back and they paid for all those nice dinners.

So Suzanne, here at UCTMW we embrace the highest standards of journalistic integrity! Now it’s time for this ink stained wretch to put aside my reporter’s hat, and get back to my higher purpose – waking Mistress with my devoted tongue and lips!

Gratification Deferred...but Not Denied.

Mistress and slave did the 9 hour drive from heartland to the coast today. Dumped off the cute co-Ed in a chaotic dorm room and headed back. It's been more than 30 hours since either of us discharged our pent up sexual energy!

But before checking into some no tell hotel in central Maryland we needed to stop for sustenance. 

There will be time enough at dusk to properly celebrate the restoration of our empty nest!

(I tried to post this Sunday evening but somehow the internet connection was less than robust in the mountains of Maryland... rest assured that Mistress and Slave slept soundly in some sleazy Best Western last night... Mistress received some pre-bedtime worship, and this morning, Slave was able to break that horrid 48 hours of abstinence....Ahhhhh. What a relief!

Now we are headed home looking forward to exploiting our full empty nest privileges at least through Thanksgiving!)

Float Like a Butterfly and...

It's been one of those weeks here at the UCTMW World HQ.

One daughter off loaded to her bucolic college town... another suddenly whining about how she would really rather go somewhere else than where we plan to off load her on Sunday.

Mistress starting a new job, and juggling the demands of insistent clients.

Then, with all those balls in the air, on a late afternoon bike ride Wednesday with former fuck buddy Jay.... she gets stung on her forehead by a bee.

Oops. 

By the next morning, one side of her face is swollen and puffy, eye completely shut.

Not only does this upset the beautiful symmetry of her lovely face, it also throws an overly scheduled day into chaos.

"I'm not going out in public looking like this, Slave...."

"And you can't drive that way, in any event....."

(Slave is the practical one here).

So Slave went to work, and she conscripted one of the Mistresses in training to take her to the MD.

By the end of the day, and with some medication, the swelling had diminished some, giving her a little more vision in her eye.  We decided to go to dinner at a local restaurant, since our other dinner plans had gone up in flames.

But naturally, we ran into several friends and acquaintances, who, seeing Mistress's swollen eye,  started eying Slave with suspicion. I could hear them thinking "Did he clobber her?", since the affect on Mistress's face was about the same as someone who had been on the losing end of a bar fight. Fortunately, Mistress was happy to blame it on the bee. Otherwise, the local police would have been showing up at our door before the evening was out.

By yesterday, Mistress's face  was almost back into normal shape, and she resumed her jam packed schedule. It included a jazz concert in a local park by an extraordinary singer I'd never heard before.... a nice respite for Mistress and Slave to sit under a tree, enjoy the crowd and the music. And, as it turned out, the guy's hit song has a Femdom theme to it..... featuring a guy in a cage, with the babe dancing around him, taunting.... check it out: Be Good (Lion's Song).

When we got home, discovering that the nest was briefly empty, we made sure to exploit the opportunity, with Slave settling in for some devotional worship of her clean shaven folds, and Mistress indulging me afterwards with the opportunity to fuck her.

Now if we can only make it to Sunday evening.....

UCTMW FAN FICTION?

The folks over at The Long Bean have posted a short story based on the Sunday Switch provisions of the Mick and Molly contract, though I must say that this Slave is smart enough not to use my switch privileges as an excuse to deny Mistress her accustomed allotment of multiple orgasms on our switch days.

After all..... what's sauce for the goose can turn into an extra helping of sauce for the gander. (Wait, do I have my goose / gander genders confused?)

Summer's End

Summer has always been a more laid back time of year for Mistress and Slave.... but this summer?

Not so much.

Having gotten used to the luxury of the empty nest last school year, this summer seems like things are way too crowded and scheduled.

Too many dirty dishes stuffed into the sink at the end of the day.

Too much laundry for slave to do.

Too much "empty the dorm room and dump it here until fall" detritus about, filling our basement.

Too many people demanding use of our cars.

And of course, too little privacy cramping our peculiar sexual stylings.

Add that to Mistress going through the drama of leaving one job and starting another one, and Slave relocating his Mom and cleaning out her condo, and we're looking forward to fall here.

Thankfully, one daughter heads back to school on Thursday, and we drive another one East very early on Sunday morning.Then things should slow down to a more relaxed pace, including some time away at our Southwestern hideaway.

Of course, it's not like we've been celibate here.  Over the weekend there was time for our wake-up sex, and another session on Sunday afternoon, raising questions among the girls about we we "sleep so much".

"Your parents work hard during the week and need the weekends to rest up."

Mistress was pleased that her Slave remembered to get the 'baby oil gel" (our substitute for the WC's $50 an ounce high end lubricant) to use with some of her favorite toys. Sunday afternoon she commanded me put it to use.

"Go insert your aneros, Slave..... I want a very hard cock this afternoon!"

Who was I to say no. After all, Mistress is always right.

Slave Dines In. Mistress Eats Out.

Yesterday, a little before noon, Mistress sashayed into my office, with only a few minutes to spare before a lunch engagement just across the street.

"I don't have long, Slave."

No time for idle chit-chat. Slave shut the door, slid her "throne" up against it, and spread the nice absorbent maroon blanket over its upholstery.

If that blanket could talk!

Slave was soon on his knees, for an early "munch". Not exactly at my desk, but in very close proximity.


Once Mistress had her fill, she was off to her more formal luncheon. Hopefully this was a healthy diversion that only piqued her appetite.

"Thanks for the lick, Slave", was the text message I got later in the afternoon.

Just in a day's work for a pampered house Slave.

Equal Time Thursday: For Submissive Women and Their Authoritarian Doms

Yesterday I stumbled upon this article -How to Be a Perfect Nazi Wife - about the Wives Training Camps in Nazi Germany organized by the highest ranking lady Nazi - a woman named Gertrude Scholtz-Klink (No, not Kink, but Klink - no apparent relation to the Colonel). The goal was to have some basic training for good Arayan women aspiring to marry SS officers or other guys with pull in the Reich.

The article mentions training in most of the "domestic arts":

  Scholtz-Klink’s schools were attended by girlfriends and fiancées of SS officers and other Nazi functionaries, who were instructed in the basics of “washing, cooking, child care and home design.”  They also received training in how to entertain at cocktail parties and proper topics of conversation. They were also taught “special knowledge of race and genetics.” Himmler wanted the schools to produce ideal German wives in order to guarantee a “strong family life to create a strong, pure nation.”  He viewed women principally as breeders to bear and raise Aryan children for the future of the Reich. Himmler signed a decree in 1936, three years after Hitler came to power, ordering women who wished to marry SS members to sign up for the course.

Not surprisingly, women with Jewish or Gypsy heritage were not encouraged to apply for such training.

Ms. Klink referred to women as "The Secret Queens of the Reich", but  no where does the article  mention their proper role when their SS hubby comes back from a hard day of loading rail cars or looting art collections, takes off the swastika arm band and jack boots, and wants to "unwind".  Did they offer up their breasts or asses for some corporal punishment, or did they pick up the riding crop and give hubby a taste of their own medicine, but with a "happy ending"?

Wouldn't it be interesting to get a glimpse at that part of their curriculum? But you have to admit they look fetching in their skimpy shifts and ballet slippers. If they had reality TV back in the 1940's,  I suspect HBO would have done a "Hard Knocks - Nazi Edition" at this training camp.

Speaking of hard work days, Mistress has been working double duty this week - leaving one job and already starting another one (please don't tell her boss!). It had her out later than usual last night, dining with a new client.

Once home, she was at the accumulated email for another hour or so.

Slave finally persuaded her to relax, with some oral worship that had her moaning with pleasure and pumping her hips against her Slave's lips and tongue.  But when she had her fill, and asked "are you horny Slave", I could tell she was a little too tired after that long day to indulge her "work-a-day" cock.

"I can wait until morning, Mistress....."

I wonder if that lesson was taught at Nazi Wives Training Camp?

While this broke our "two-a-day" streak, sometimes even a pampered house Slave has to know when not to press his luck.

Science Wednesday: Dommes in their (Natural) Domain

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Those of you with a scientific bent, might be interested in an article I stumbled on yesterday in the Washington Post (Lust, Monkeys and the Science of Human desire), which provides some validation for the Domme / sub lifestyle that is a theme that we write about here at UCTMW. Is it really so unusual? Or is a female led sexual dynamic more typical than conventional thinking might persuade us?

The article focuses on a researcher who has studied the behaviors of rhesus monkeys – the type we used to launch into space because of their proximity to humankind. It turns out that that male scientists who concluded years ago that in the primate world males were the sexual aggressors were not watching closely enough.

Instead, it was the ladies who ruled the roost, and they weren’t just satisfied with one “provider”:

There, in Asian mountains or lowland forests, adult males lurked at the edges of female-run domains. The females invited them in to serve sexually. The males remained — desirable, dispensable — until the females lost interest in them. Then they were dismissed, replaced. In his compounds, Wallen removed the breeders and introduced new males about every three years, the time it took for their charms to wane, for the frequency of their copulations — almost always female-initiated — to fade.

This sounds like a society that us submissive guys, and you Domme ladies, might relate to, doesn’t it?

And when the subject turns to what happens after the lady of the house gets her first round of fucking for the day, well, that just primes her for more – even if that first partner is now rolling over for a snooze:

Her fulfillment was short-lived. Within minutes, she was hounding him again. At other moments, she might have moved on to the other male. “She has sex,” Wallen said, about rhesus females on the whole, “and when he goes into his post-ejaculatory snooze, what does she do? She immediately gets up and goes off and finds another.”

Sounds like just another day over at All Mine, doesn’t it? I mean, just because one guy is now zoned out, doesn’t mean the lady of the castle needs to go back to her knitting, does it?

So does this research mean that every housewife is an inner Domme?

Tracking the action of the compound, he asked himself, as he had so many times, whether any of this applies to humans and whether “because of social conventions and imperatives, women frequently don’t act on or even recognize the intensity of motivation that monkeys obey.” His decades of study spanned the human as well as the rhesus realm. He answered, “I feel confident that this is true.”

He didn’t mean to imply perfect correspondence between Deidrah and the average woman. There was too much complexity for that sort of equation. Like lots of current research on human and animal sexuality, Wallen’s work with our close ancestors calls into question conventional assumptions, among them that women have innately lower and less raw sex drives than men, and that while men have been programmed by evolution to spread their cheap seed, to be promiscuous, women, relatively speaking, are genetically compelled to seek out one good man and are at least somewhat well suited to monogamy.

Such notions may be soothing for society — that half the population is somehow biologically designed to serve the interests of stability. But scientists studying female sexuality — from the lusts of Deidrah and other monkeys to the desires of human women, measured in laboratory tests of genital blood flow and explored in longitudinal research covering decades in women’s lives — are starting to suggest that maybe we haven’t allowed ourselves much knowledge about what women want.

So,  for all you sub guys still on the hunt for the Domme of your dreams, don't give up hope. It may be there are more of them out there than you think.

Two-a-Days

It's training camp time here in River City for our local PussyCats. Hope springs eternal, and Slave has particular interest in our first draft choice, who hales from my alma mater.  The new players' contract seems to have put an end to the macho two-a-day practice regime in the hot August sun. Instead, the practice is limited to three hours, with minimal contact, and lots of "classroom" work. Maybe my nickname for the team is even more appropriate. But here at the UCTMW World HQ we are on a streak of three two-sex-a-day encounters.

"You're kind of horny this weekend, Slave.... what's up?"

"Hmmm.... not sure, Mistress, I mumbled, after Mistress gave me permission to cum once again."

This was Sunday afternoon. There had been our typical frisky wake-up sex already that morning, with Slave treating Mistress to a little starter cum with her favorite power tool, before proceeding to the main event.

Then there was a bike ride, a lavish breakfast Mistress prepared, some time in the sun reading the NY Times, a trip by Slave to the grocery, and, back in the Executive Suite, by late afternoon.... well Slave was in the mood for a little more than worship.

Yesterday, Mistress worked from home, and Slave headed to the office after our wake-up sex rituals were complete.

I was home by 6 pm, but the good news was that one of the Co-Ed's had an appointment at the Apple Store (another replace my phone scam), which left a little time before Slave prepared dinner.

I slipped out of my work attire, as Mistress was finishing up a document.  She had on one of those mid thigh, bare back tie-dye dresses she sports on a day at home, and looked particularly fetching.

"Anything on your calendar right now, Mistress?"

Soon we were back in beg.... Mistress had lost her tie-dye dress, and some fervent worship was rewarded with a little late afternoon indulgence.

"What's with you Slave?  all this energy?"

"Maybe I'm just whipping myself into shape for the re-emptying of the nest, Mistress.... "

It's nice that it coincides with football season.

Our Dinner with Francois

You may recall Francois... he still appears on our masthead, though it's been a while since we've engaged in any of his zany sexual adventures.... you may recall the Home Cummimg Weekend nearly two years ago, which led to a worrisome security breach that forced us to go "On the Lam" for a while until the threat passed.

Well he and his co-habitant (we'll call her the Lovely D for this purpose) came to Mistress's birthday party recently, and last night we joined then with another couple on their boat, moored down on the big river about a 40 minute drive from us in a more rural area. The boat is cozy, with sleeping quarters below for at least two couples and a nice deck for partying either where it is moored, or out on the big river.

There was plenty of wine and other food, a bit of dancing, some funny conversation, and an invitation to spend the night, but nothing kinky to report. And the humidity and the thought of waking far from home on what should be a pretty relaxed Sunday got us to leave at dusk, rather than sleep over.

We did get to check out some of the local boating color, including this fellow, who participated in a "yacht club" dinner with a group of families that we joined:

No, friends, the local river boating scene is not in the sophisticated realm of barging in the Loire Valley that Francois favors.... but it has its simple pleasures. I did note that there was a box of rope on Francois's deck, purportedly for nautical knot tying instructions. No one opened it up while we were there, but who knows what happened once the guest went away and Francois and the Lovely D were left to their own devices.

As we were leaving, Francois  was encouraging Mistress to come back and join him some weekday to just "hang out" and use the boat as an alternative workplace..... there's even wifi!  I wonder what he has in mind?

And speaking of devices with wifi, you can bet Slave was a little surprised to see and ad for one pop up on his workplace inbox the other day. "Vibease" It's some new high-tech device that links a lady's insertable vibrator to her I-phone, and synchs the "good parts" of streaming audio books to the vibrator to allow for varying intensities. It says it can even be remotely controlled by your distant partner. It's something to put on your Christmas list for the "Mistress who has everything" (or submissive too, I suppose....)

Not sure what the male equivalent of such a device would involve.... but it's good to know that the creative minds out there have something more than violent video games and drones to work on!

But here it's almost time to wake Mistress from her beauty rest on what should be a lazy Sunday for some low tech wake-up sex!

Running out the Clock

Here at the UCTMW World HQ we've been in a bit of a holding pattern this week...

The end of the summer is in sight.... and although we may miss the warm weather, we're (with just a smidgin of guilt) looking forward to dropping the Mistresses in training off at their respective campuses in just about 2 weeks time. We've been spoiled by our empty nest!

In addition, Mistress is making a workplace transition, and is anxious to get that over with.

Then we have two weeks in early September planned at our SW Hideaway, just the two of us!  It won't come soon enough.

So what do we do to "pass the time"?

.... There has been our usual wake-up sex.

(Though I've been warned that this morning we have to leave early....."Slave.... you're just going to have to contain yourself Friday morning... can you handle that....."

"I suppose I will have to Mistress...."

Not that we won't be able to squeeze in some blog reading worship.)

And in the evenings, there has been some bike riding.... worship..... family dinners when the kids get home.... and Breaking Bad binge watching on Netflix.

When we're watching the big computer screen, Mistress settled onto the couch next to me, feet extended onto my pap, she's usually in one of her sexy nighties, the lights low, just in case on of the cute Co-Eds walks through the room and gets "grossed out" by a scantily clad Mom.

Panties?

Well, of course not.

"I wear them all day Slave.... I need a little airing out....."

Sometimes those clean shaven folds spread so close to me can be distracting, and Slave's hands wander about, delivering a bonus cum or two during slow points in the story line of Walt and his meth lab.

There's something about Mistress shudders and soft moans of delight as she is splayed out next to me that give a Slave some extra fulfillment  after a busy work day.

Sex Toy Profiteers Pack River City

Mistress and Slave had a lovely and laid back empty nest weekend, at least through Sunday evening. There was plenty of time for me to worship those clean shaven folds, which had quite a workout on Friday. And of course Mistress indulged her work-a-day cock friday evening, Saturday morning, and again on Sunday.

I really am a pampered house slave, aren't I?

But, alas, the Mistresses in training are back in town, and we've been busy at work these last few days. Fortunately, there are only about 18 days left before the college year begins! Light at the end of the crowded nest tunnel!

On the drive to work this morning, we did catch a glimpse of the babes in town for the annual sales
conference for a local company that sells sex toys tupperware style. They've been here before: a collection of seemingly boring middle American housewives, with pink accessories, pink hair, pink shoes and jackets and branded shopping bags, here in River City to party and confer as a reward for hitting their sales targets for the past year. (Am I missing something, or is pink the Anti-sexy color?)

Just think of all the pocket rockets, ball gags, green "Fuck me I'm Irish"  thongs and strap-ons these little ladies had to pedal in living rooms and condo social halls in towns like Topeka and Little Rock over the last year to win the honor of two days and nights  in our humble river town.

At lunch time, Slave couldn't help taking some I-spy shots of these sex toy profiteers as they strolled our not so busy by ways. (Nothing says "buy my sex merchandise" than flipping your ciggie onto our side walk, lady!)

And Mistress, who's fashion sense is a bit less flashy (and more sexy, I might ad) observed:

"I bet some guys can get lucky tonight if they hit the downtown bars with these ladies in town."

No doubt. Plus they might get free lube samples!

Mistress Starts Her Weekend Early

We've finagled another empty nest weekend here at the UCTMW World HQ - one daughter is off to the WIndy City, and another is visiting a friend on the East Coast. So Mistress and her devoted Slave have a few lovely days without our nosy brood in our faces, dampening our fun.

That gave us some space for some long and boisterous fucking in Thursday night, and gave Mistress the freedom for a little "sidedish" action mid-morning in Friday.

"My new old friend got in touch this week, Slave.... he's coming over Friday after my breakfast meeting."

This is a gentleman caller from Mistress's not too distant past. They've been in touch of late and she was able to pencil him into her dance card with the Mistresses in training away for the weekend.

Slave was off at work, but certainly wondering how Mistress's mid-morning tryst was going. I heard from her at around 12:30 pm, before I headed to lunch with a client.

"Well Slave, he's gone now....."

"How was it Mistress?"

"Very nice, Slave.... he wanted to know how I could have the breasts of a 24 yr. old...."

"Of course you do.... but what did you tell him?"

"It must be my swimming.... keeps those muscles strong...."

"Did he play with them, Mistress?"

"Yes.... he seems to love them.... but he also was wondering about you..... whether you had the cage on today....."

"Oops...."

"You should have asked, Slave..... "

You see, this gentleman caller had discovered the blog a few months back, and he's taken an interest in our rather unusual arrangement here.

"He's getting off on this whole cuckold thing, Slave.... he likes the idea that you know he's fucking your wife, and that it actually turns you on...."

I had to cut the debrief short for my lunch meeting, but we resumed back in the Executive Suite at the end of the workday.... both of us naked and between the sheets.  As I savored Mistress's well exercised clean shaven folds, she filled in some more detail about her morning with her lover, who is about 20 years younger than her Slave.

'So how did things unfold, Mistress...."

"I was waiting for him downstairs, had changed into one of my black nighties... no undies of course...."

Her hips were shifting against my devoted lips and tongue as she spun the tale.

"He came in the side door ... and immediately pushed me against the wall and started kissing me Slave.... his hand sliding down,  checking to see if I was already wet...."

"And were you, Mistress?"

"What do you think.....?"

She went on to describe how they came up to our bed....how he unzipped and had her suck his thickening cock.... then bent her over the bed and fucked her from behind.

"Sounds very Dom, Mistress.... did you like that?"

"Of course I did.... you know how I like to be dominated....it was all very ....athletic....quite a few different positions before we were done."

By now Mistress had cum in response to her Slave's tender ministrations, and I had entered her from above.... our sex wasn't the athletic type. I figured she had been fully utilized already today, so I took it slow and gentle, getting permission before I came, of course.

It was a very nice start to what should be a good weekend.