Still Crazy....

In addition to some two-a-day sexcapades here on Saturday, our rather hectic weekend was highlighted by Mistress's 4th annual swim of our local "Big River" - over and back to the shores that once divided the blue from the gray.

It's the sort of activity that requires Slave to accompany Mistress in the pre-dawn hours down to the riverfront to bear witness to her crazy.

"I could have driven myself, Slave...."

"But who would identify the body, Mistress?"

Obviously, it's not all that unsafe. About 200 other hearty souls joined her on this foolhardy mission. And the Coast Guard does stop the chemical laden barges plying the river from West Virginia to the Gulf of Mexico, at least for a while. So the only real fear is running out of steam somewhere at mid-stream, heavy currents, and all those rumours of giant mutant cat fish.

Once Mistress slides into that cold water, and the starter's whistle blows, all Slave can do is haul Mistress's towel, bag and sandals down to the finish line and repeat the "Hail Mary's" taught me by the nuns in grade school.

Whether it was the power of an unbeliever's prayer, or Mistress smooth and undaunted stroke that turned the trick, she did emerge successfully from the cold gray waters about 21 minutes after she struck off on her quest. There was a crowd of landlubbers to greet her and her fellow travelers in crazy, with finish times announced and some more notorious swimmers welcomed back by name.

"Did they really say my age when I got out, Slave....."

"Ummm... I think they did Mistress...."

It's amazing she noticed that little detail as she climbed onto the landing after her chilly little dip.  I think I'd be checking for leeches or stray catfish whiskers instead.

Fortuantely, there was a "happy ending". After Mistress wrapped herself in a towel (photos of her in her bathing suit were strictly verbotten), we headed home, stopping at a local greasy spoon for some carbo-loading.

Then Mistress and Slave were back in bed for a little nap, the New York Times and some hearty, if deferred morning sex.  I think Mistress's clean shaven folds were still chilled when I soothed them with my tongue and lips as a prologue for what was to come.

Fortunately, her work-a-day cock was warm and toasty.