Ivy League Kink

Slave spent the day yesterday with one of my older daughter, touring that legendary Ivy League campus in northern Jersey where F Scott Fitzgerald and Bill Bradley once prowled. It's a beautiful campus and appealing town, filled with earnest students and faculty and no doubt very expensive homes.

Meanwhile, Mistress was back in River City. It sounds like she had a busy day herself, capped off with a sleepover with her lover Jay.

We were only able to trade a couple of texts and talk briefly at around 8:30 last night.

"Jay came over around 5:30, Slave... and now we're walking up the street for dinner."

"Hmmm.... that was three hours ago", I thought to myself.

"Have you been busy, Mistress...."

She giggled.

"Yes, SLave.... we have been busy...."

I suspect they let loose in our bed, knowing there was no sleeping slave in the room next door to "disturb".

Later last night I got a text before we both headed to bed.

"Ugh.  I think we saw your friend Bob up on the street last night, Slave...."

It was what we had discussed, the chance Mistress would run into someone we know when out on her Saturday night "date".

"Don't worry, Mistress... no big deal.", I responded.  There are plenty of explanations for a night out with another guy that we can come up with if need be.

On our tour yesterday we stopped by the University Art Gallery. It was a rather impressive collection that would endow more than a few major colleges or Universities, no doubt contributed by some very flush alums.

That $100 Million Monet on the wall?  Oh, just something we didn't have room for when we "downsized" in Palm Beach.

But one picture in prominent display did catch my eye as being a little beyond the button down Ocford, top sider norm:

I guess even Ivy Leaguers can have a rich fantasy life.