The Return of Woody

After some bracing wake-up sex, this Ol' Slave spent the day in his cage yesterday, going about my daily duties, then returning home to be sprung loose for a pre-dinner bike ride with Mistress.

As it turns out, while slave was under lock and key, Mistress was having a lunch date with a suitor who popped back up on her radar screen after a couple of years.

You may remember Woody. He was the guy who for a while dated Mistress's former boss, then asked her out to lunch. She was impressed with the guy's mental chops, education, and ability to carry on an adult conversation.  But there was no .... chemistry.  Somehow she mentioned that her husband gives her "permission" to carry on outside the marital bed. Of course this egged him on to no end, ending in his effort to kiss her in a shopping mall parking lot after lunch one day.

Mistress made her lack of interest clear, and that seemed to be that.

But then, yesterday, Mistress mentioned he had been back in touch. And she had agreed to another lunch date.

"Who knows slave.... he's smart, and maybe there can at least be a business connection...."

After their lunch, and then later on our bike ride, Mistress filled me in on how things went.

"It was nice slave... he is interesting... smart... we had a nice conversation about politics and all the rest."

She reminded me of his qualifications.... a little younger than me, advanced degrees, published author, single and available, and very attracted to Mistress.

"He kept saying how smart and attractive and fun to be with I am, slave...."

Mistress does like a little flattery.  Who doesn't.

"But...."

"The problem is the same, slave.... no chemistry... in fact negative chemistry.... he's too short....too nebbishy...."

"Still too much  like Woody Allen?"

"Exactly Slave.... I almost feel sorry for him...."

"Hmmm.... a candidate for a sympathy fuck?"

Mistress gave me a look that suggested if I pressed on that she might get that wooden back scratcher out, so I let that hang.

Poor Woody.  If he made his own movies he could always cast himself opposite some hot younger babe -- a teenaged Mariel Hemingway or young Diane Keaton -- but if your just a brainy science writer like this Woody, what you gonna do?

So Mistress left poor Woody in the dust one more time.

"He tried to give me one of those kisses again, on the sidewalk in front of the restaurant."

"How did you handle that?"

"Just turned my face so he got my cheek, slave."

Poor Woody.