Snow Day

Mistress and slave did a full day on the slopes Tuesday. With the sun out and most of the mountain open, there was plenty of  terrain to tax our flatlander legs.

So when the snow clouds rolled in Tuesday night, and we woke to a cloud bank concealing our dawn mountain views, we took the course of least resistance.

"Would it kill us to take a day off, Mistress?"

"Count me in, Slave...."

So our day was spent lolling about, a fire blazing through the day in our little kiva hearth. We both did a little work, some reading, and of course, plenty of sex.

There was your bracing morning wake up sex, featuring Mistress requiring her slave to insert his "device", priming her cock for a dawn cock ride.

Then, after all of that lolling, there was a lengthy interval back in our bed, for round two.  A much needed nap followed, before the sun peeked out for a blazing sunset.

Sure we will be back on the mountain today, but who can complain about an unscheduled snow day.

David Dodges Goliath

In the old bible story, David took on and beat Goliath with his slingshot. Long odds were overcome.

But sometimes its best to avoid a bad bet rather than hope you'll be lucky. So  slave  plotted a course Sunday night that had us dodging the path of that ugly Goliath snowstorm that was barrelling across Texas, Oklahoma and New Mexico in our direction. We drove longer than we wanted Sunday night, heading west across the dark prairie, dotted with grain elevators and silos adorned with holiday lights. We finally came to ground in a rather cozy Marriott in Garden City, KS., a town made famous by Truman Capote when he covered the murder trial that turned into his book "In Cold Blood".  fortunately, there were rooms at the Inn and we didn't have to seek shelter in the Clutter family home.

After unpacking a few things, we both collapsed onto our bed, too tuckered to find a late dinner. But slave did have enough energy to provide Mistress with some attention to her clean shaven folds before we conked out for the night. So at least one of our cum streaks remained alive.

Fortunately, slave was able to make up for lost time on Monday.  We only had about 6 hours of our drive left, and the snow was now off to the east of us. So there was plenty of time for some leisurely wake-up sex before we hit the highway for our SW hideaway.

It sure was nice to see and feel that sunshine after several days of gloom, as we crossed the high plains, following the old Santa Fe Trail, and caught first sight of the Spanish Peaks and the expanse of the Rockies.

It also allowed us to arrive in our hideaway by mid-afternoon, with the sun blazing on new fallen snow. Someone had a white Christmas!

There was nothing on the schedule....so we found ourselves in bed, long before a brilliant sunset, napping then ....

"How about some worship, Mistress?"

"Sounds good, slave...."

She seemed pleased with my efforts. But wait, there's more....

"Why don't you put in your device slave...."

She was referring to the aneros, which I lubed up and duly inserted. The additional stimulation was more than enough to turn one groggy, road weary slave into one horny slave.  And Mistress made sure my hardened cock was put to  productive use.

It was a good way to start our somewhat delayed Christmas holiday.

Riders on the Storm

Mistress and slave dropped their adventurous Co-Ed off at the airport this morning at 5 am. She's got a one-way ticket to Europe, where she is completing her "studies".  It's unclear when she will return. That put a lump in her Dad's throat when we gave her a goodbye hug this morning.  I suppose if she has no plans to return here, we can visit her right?

After having disposed somewhat reluctantly of our darling, we took to the highway, heading west.  As we left River City behind it was 67 degrees, raining and flashing lightning.  Huh?  It's December 27th.  That's April weather.

But the weather is changeable as you cross the Mississippi River heading toward the rockies.

Right now Mistress is at the wheel somewhere West of Topeka, KS and its 29 degrees.

Thanks to our on board wi-fi I can see the "Goliath" snow storm (as dubbed by the weather channel) vectoring our way.  With a little luck we can cross central Kansas before 10 pm tonight, find a sleazy motel, ride out the storm in the close confines of a cozy bed, sharing bodily warmth as the blizzard rages outside.

It's certainly better than getting stuck in a snow drift.

And it will definitely enhance slave's chance of keeping his cum streak alive!

Christmas Eve with the Dowager Domme

We had a very laid back Christmas Eve here in River City. And though we missed the timeless rituals at the old Pueblo near our SW hideaway, we had the unusual luxury of a sunny balmy day here.

Slave spent some time at the office in the morning, shutting down for the year, then watched Bing Crosby's White Christmas for a while with my addled Mother.  The treat was coming home in time for a bike ride in shorts and a T-shirt before a gorgeous sunset.  It was 65 degrees. No white Christmas here!

Last night we enjoyed dinner at Mistress's Mother's house.  The Dowager Domme made an excellent meal, and though she only had on black pants and a top (as Mistress was attired I might add), you gotta love these kinky shoes!

Dinner was pleasant -- no annoying relatives were included - and we got home at a reasonable hour under a blazing full moon. It was bright enough that we longed for the view of the moon rising over the mountains behind our old adobe house. But soon enough. We head there in Sunday.

I made sure to service Mistress before we turned off the lights. I wonder if visions of sugar plums mingled with thoughts of my tongue betwixt her clean shaven folds, or maybe J or K's cocks, as she faded off listening for the sounds of Santa and his reindeer on our slate roof top.  Who knows what she might find under the tree?

Christmas Time Is Here.

Mistress and slave are hunkered down here in River City for the holidays, our daughters under one roof these last few days. My older daughters are also in town so we have a big Christmas dinner planned here in our overcrowded nest.

While we miss spending the holidays in the tranquility of our adopted SW town, and the ancient Christmas Eve  rituals at the local Pueblo, it's also been a chance to re-sample the traditions here in River City, including a funky hipster holiday jazz show last night just up the street that our "sophisticated" Co-Ed actually seemed to enjoy.

Of course Dad picking up the bar tab also seemed to help.

Even better, we plan to head West, just the two of us, on Sunday morning after we dump our youngest at the airport for another one of her overseas adventures.


We look forward to some time there together,  where the snow has been falling this last week, off the clock and on the slopes.

A year ago we were all in Paris together, for a magical Christmas season in the City of Light. We were lucky to have been there at a more innocent time, before the horror and resulting paranoia of terrorism descended on a City that has seen so much joy and horror over the centuries.

It makes us realize how fragile the "heavenly peace" of the holiday season can be. The key seems to be: enjoy and cherish while you can. As the old song goes "through the years we'll always be together... if the fates allow." Fortunately, the fates remain on our side this Christmas season.

To all of our blogger friends, and those of you who just stop by for a little pick-me-up during the course of your day or week,  may you find the peace, joy and love of the season with your own friends and family this holiday season.

Molly Nightingale

As the days dwindle down before Christmas in our crowded house, poor Mistress has not only had to squelch her extra-curricular sexual adventures, but she's been tending to her slave and some places where the Domme-otologist did her carving on my back last week.

When you have to clean and dress several chunks on your back, it's awful hard to do it yourself.  I'd need an arm that was about 6 inches longer and an elbow that flexed at a very strange angle.

So not only has Mistress been forced to forego cock riding and stifle her sexual expression because our Dommes-in-training are in residence, she's also had to deal with my yucky medical needs.

I'm thinking maybe I should get her a suitable outfit to match her new accidental vocation.  How about this one? Mistress does tend to wear black more often than not.
Or for a change up, maybe something in white?

Run in With the Domme-atologist

After Mistress's "2 lovers in three days" adventures earlier this week, things definitely went downhill fast here at the UCTMW World HQ.  Poor Mistress has the dreary duty of traveling to the east coast and pack up and retrieve our last remaining Co-Ed from her college campus for the holidays. It was a long drive home, and it sounds like our "loving daughter" was at her bitchy best.

She may be a "Domme in Training" but can't she take it out her angst on some pathetic frat boy rather than her parents?

You can bet that slave missed Mistress while she was out of town on her daughter retrieval mission. And relieved when she arrived back after that long drive on Thursday evening. I made sure there was a warm dinner and even warmer bed for her, with some extra Worship tossed in at the end of the day.

So we now have a particularly crowded house - including our older daughter's recently graduated boy friend, who has been hanging around more frequently this week. All of these occupants have forced us to crank up the Christmas music in our bedroom to mask the sounds of our furtive couplings.

It's not the best way to get into the holiday spirit.

My own Friday was less than relaxing. I've had some feisty and demanding clients this week, just when I thought that things would calm for the end of the year.  On top of that I had another run in with my Domme-ish lady dermatologist yesterday afternoon - the one in the leather pants and kinky boots.

After having me strip down to my skivvies and don one of those pathetic back open robes, She and her rather butch assistant spent about 30 minutes torturing me with sharp objects and some strange electric device that sizzled my skin.  Thankfully the magic of lidocaine dampened the pain. My guess is that her more masochistic patients  pass on that little numbing shot to add to the thrill. As the process unfolded I began to empathize with the Thanksgiving Turkey we carved up a few weeks ago.

At some point, as she reached for a sharper carving tool, she asked me in her vaguely middle eastern accent "how are you doing...."

"Other than the humiliation of laying here in my underwear, I guess I'm doing ok."

I figured Terri would appreciate that line.

And it made me  question why I had worn those old cotton briefs, rather than the glossier black or turquoise and much silkier undies that Mistress purchased me for my birthday last month.

(No readers, they aren't ladies' wear. But they are of a synthetic fabric that is much clingier and softer to the touch than what my traditional  undie drawer used to be stuffed with.  I don't think this is the first step in some sort of "sissification" reprogramming by Mistress, is it?)

It made me wonder if the Domme-atologist and her assistant had ever had some seemingly alpha- patient strip down to his skivvies and find some alluring pink panties instead.

It also made me grateful that Mistress hadn't insisted that I wear my cock cage to work on Friday.

"

Mistress's Afternoon Diversion

The good thing about running your own business, as Mistress does, is that you can engineer a little free time in the middle of the afternoon when the stars align with a desirable side-dish.

So it was yesterday afternoon.

Slave was safely tucked away at work, all locked up in his cock cage.  Mistress checked in around lunch time, reporting that K, her occasional lover, was stopping by for an hour or two around 1:30 pm.

I heard back from her again as I was on the way to my dental appointment.

"Here I am, slave.... had a very nice time with K. Now he's off to an office holiday party."

Looking forward to Mistress's account of her afternoon, I suffered through a somewhat painful cleaning. (Does anyone hate that electronic scaler as much as I do, as it pinches at tender gums and nerves?  It could be a classic torture device if applied to more sensitive body parts! ) Don't worry Terry, unlike my leather pants wearing dermatologist, the older lady who cleans my teeth was unlikely to provoke any reaction from my caged cock.

Back at the house by around 6 pm, I found Mistress in recovery mode in our bed. She was happy to peal back her black tights for some oral worship, allowing her slave to savor the mingled tastes of Mistress's natural fluids and the remnants left behind by K.

"It was pretty hot slave....K gets down to business....it was pretty much up the stairs, strip off my clothes and get to it...."

"And so what sort of sex was it, Mistress?"

"K likes lots of different positions, slave.....from behind, me on top, him on top....and he spent a lot of time with his mouth on me, slave....."

K also has a habit of leaving a little of himself behind in our bedroom.

"Sorry slave.... there's another K stain on our comforter today....."

Oops.

It turned out that they did it twice in the 90 minutes or so they spent in bed together.  Not bad for a guy in his 40's.

Later I made us some dinner and we settled into watching a movie on TV. It was then I realized something odd.

"You never took my cage off, Mistress."

Mistress giggled a bit.

"Hmmmm..... I think you're getting used to it slave....maybe we need to keep it on you a lot longer."

I suppose I had gotten used to it yesterday.  But Mistress was kind enough to pop it off me before bed time.

So I'm back to "pampered" status.

Phew.

When it Rains It Pours...

And I'm not talking about the damp, blustery weather here in River City yesterday.

No, I'm talking about Mistress's sudden abundance of side-dish nookie over three days.

Sunday I spent too much of my day watching the Pussycats succumb once again to that dreaded team from up river, who once again left our star QB on the sidelines. When I got home around 5 pm, Mistress was primping for a date with Jay.  It has taken them a while to co-ordinate their schedules, but finally the stars aligned.

I kissed her good bye and she headed off into the evening, promising to return around 10 pm. Slave cooled his heels at home, making some dinner for myself and watching a little more football.

Sure enough, Mistress slid back into our bedroom at around 10.  I was there waiting for her.

"I'm tired slave...."

"No doubt, Mistress."

It was the classic "rode hard, put away wet" situation for poor Mistress. She was a little too tuckered for a detailed debrief. But I got the highlights.

"We went out to dinner at (the rib place in his neighborhood).... then back to his house, slave.  It was your typical very athletic encounter.... only for about an hour...."

"An hour is a lot of sex in my book, Mistress".

(At least compared to our more efficient, and frequent, encounters.)

I didn't ask for the cum count. I suspect Mistress lost track. And we don't keep a monthly chart here at UCTMW the way Diane and Terri do at A Married Sissy.

As you might have expected, Mistress was a little too tired to indulge her slave with a second round of Sunday sex as she settled into bed.  But by Monday morning she was recovered enough to allow me to taste the results of her Sunday night fun, and also deploy her work-a-day cock to keep me on schedule for my monthly 22+ of cums.

By last night she was looking forward to a visit today at lunch time from her side-side dish K.

K has been texting her ever since Thanksgiving, hoping for a holiday season get together. And somehow Mistress was able to pencil him into her dance card before our other daughter returns home to overcrowd the UCTMW World HQ.

"I think you should be in your cage tomorrow while I'm entertaining K, slave...."

I thought about coming up with an excuse. Example: I have a dentist appointment this afternoon. Could that confounded electric scaling device the hygienist uses to clean my teeth form a circuit with my hard steel cock cage and fry the family jewels?  Would the hygenist ask me to "drop trou" as part of her oral health exam?

I guess those won't be too persuasive.

So it's a cage day for me, which will be a little more frustrating as I contemplate Mistress in our bed with the guy who seems able to do it three times in an hour.

Poor me!

Naughty or Nice?

Mistress and slave had a night on the town last night, dining and wandering around one of River City's old, funky neighborhoods that has become a big night life scene in recent years.  It was a nice cap to a relatively laid back Saturday, with the nest empty most of the day and evening.

That meant Mistress could sleep in, and then engage in some feisty cock riding without having to suppress the volume on her moans of delight.

After we both did some errands and visited our respective mothers, we were back in bed for a luxurious late afternoon nap and some reading.  We were so relaxed we forgot to have afternoon sex!

"This may be the last day we get to hang around here by ourselves for a while, slave...."

Sadly, that's true.  Mistress is retrieving our remaining Co-Ed from the east coast later this week. She will be back for Christmas, then heads back to Europe for her final semester once the holidays are over. And while she's here there will be a few too many family gatherings, holiday parties, etc., etc.

So that made it nice that we were able to slide off into the night for some frivolity last night. There were drinks, dinner, and a night cap wandering the sidewalks and engaging in some "Santa watching".  Apparently someone organized an "event" downtown where Santa attire was de riguer. And while it was hardly the same as wandering the charming farallito
lit streets near our SW hideaway, it had a certain funky charm of it's own.

As we were walking around, Mistress mentioned that before the house becomes more crowded, she had made some last minute holiday season plans of her own --

"It's going to be a busy week for your Mistress, slave..... Tomorrow night (Sunday) I'm going over to Jay's for "dinner"..... and then Tuesday, K is coming over to our house for "lunch"....."

I knew that both Jay and K had been lobbying for some intimacy time with Molly.  But work, family and travel schedules had been getting in the way. It was good to hear that Mistress had used her advanced multi-tasking skills to work things out before our holiday schedule got too crazy.

"Just in time for the holidays, Mistress".

Isn't it  good to know that Mistress will be able to be naughty with and nice to her side-dishes this holiday season?

Slaves' Right to 22

If you read our last post,  you saw a reference to a fancy Harvard touted study that purports to show that if a male in his middle years has at least 22 orgasms / month he has 2/3 the chance to contract prostrate cancer than his less sexually active counterparts.

In the absence of any scientific data to the contrary, I am going to assume that such a prescription for good healthy maintenance of those precious guy parts is based on good science and worth heeding.

Of course, just like those who deny the theory of evolution, think dinosaurs walked the earth 2000 years ago, or don't believe in "climate change", there are some of you out there who no doubt will insist that infrequent orgasms are the best way to maintain a male slave in good working order.

Nor would I argue  that the occasional sentence of abstinence (say one week every few months) for bad behavior - or just for the fun of it - is likely to materially raise one's health risks.

But that said, I am urging all of our readers - whether male slaves or submissives or female dommes - to sign onto a new addition to the Male Slaves' Bill of Rights: the right to 22!

Of course, Diane and Terri,  I suppose that doesn't mean that one's 22 monthly orgasms can't be administered while the cage is on and the hitachi is engaged.

Though I still can't figure out how that works!

Fortunately for this pampered house slave, Mistress is very indulgent. I have been on a 22 + / month diet for at least the last 22 years, even following the "no touch rule".

When I asked her if she was interested in following the advice of that crazy video posted here earlier in the week and limiting my cums to no more than once every 14 days, she scoffed.

"What would the point of that be, slave?"

Particularly with her side-dishes on hiatus due to scheduling issues these last few weeks, I think she would miss a good daily fucking, even if it comes from her same old, same old work-a-day cock.

Lucky slave!

In Defense of Pampering Your House Slave

On Wednesday I reported on that guy who believes that "happiness" is enhanced by denying males sexual release, based on a formula that would limit old guys like me to a cum frequency of no more than 1 every 14 days.  You younger guys can do it a little more frequently, no doubt because he's younger!  The formula of (age-7)/4 was offered up without much explanation.

I can tell you that Mistress, when exposed to this argument scoffed.  I think she likes to spoil her slave, or at least has come to believe that I behave better when encouraged to "release" all those sexual fluids on a regular basis.

But at the back of my mind was my recollection of studies that said men have a better chance of avoiding prostrate cancer.  Of course my own thoughts on who does or does not get prostrate cancer is purely anecdotal. I am at an age when I've known several guys who dealt with this disease, including my own father, then in his mid-70's.  The other, younger guys I know all fall into a certain category: nice guys who didn't seem likely to be getting much "action" at home, and unlikely to look for it elsewhere. (Of course, I could be completely wrong about that, I'm just making a probably unfair judgment about them based on their personalities and who their spouses).

Fortunately, one of our commenters did the research for me and came up with an article  with the name Harvard attached to it.  From there I found another article with the name Johns Hopkins attached to it.  The gist of both is that initially folks hypothesized that more frequent sex might actually encourage prostrate cancer by exposing a guy to STDs and inflammation.  But then someone actually did a study of sexually active guys in middle age and this is the summary:

Previous studies have been inconclusive, notes Platz, but "taken together, they hint that men who have more sex, or who have had a sexually transmitted disease, are more likely to have prostate cancer."

Platz and her colleagues at Harvard and the National Cancer Institute were unconvinced. As part of a massive study, led by epidemiologist Michael Leitzmann at Harvard, they recently studied nearly 30,000 men participating in the Health Professionals Follow-up Study. Most of these men were white and middle-aged, and very few had ever had a sexually transmitted disease. "In 1992, we asked the men who did not have prostate cancer to report their typical number of ejaculations per month in their twenties, forties, and during the past year," says Platz.

Could a man's sexual activity have any repercussions-one way or the other-on his risk of getting prostate cancer?

Over the next eight years, nearly 1,500 of these men went on to develop prostate cancer.

The scientists found that men who reported more ejaculations-more than 21 a month, on average across their adult life-had two-thirds the lifetime risk of prostate cancer of men who reported fewer (4 to 7) ejaculations a month. Notes Platz: "Compared with men reporting fewer ejaculations per month at all ages, men who reported 21 or ejaculations per month had one-fourth the risk of prostate cancer."

Certain important features of this study make these observations more credible, she adds. One is the sheer number of men involved; another is "the fact that the men reported their ejaculation frequency well before they were diagnosed with prostate cancer." Also, the scientists were able to rule out such factors as a man's history of sexually transmitted diseases, which could have clouded the results.

Another recent study of many men, with and without prostate cancer, has produced similar findings, says Platz. "Based on these two large, well-conducted studies, men should not be worried that frequent ejaculation will cause prostate cancer." The next step, she adds, is to figure out why frequent ejaculation seems to have this protective effect, and the role inflammation plays here.

I am one of those fortunate guys who has averaged more than 22 orgasms per month for the last 23 years or so.  I would bet I am at about 30  / month over those years, with the occasional two-a-day canceling out the rare abstinence day. 

So it seems that according to this study, Mistress's approach to her slave's orgasm management - whether intended or not - may assure that my chances of getting prostrate cancer are one third less than those of you who have less than 21 cums per month. 

Of course, one can still draw the bad card and lose out, despite all that good behavior. We all know folks who have had heart attacks who eat well and exercise regularly.  Sometimes your number is up despite the "odds".  

But in terms of my own "happiness", and while toying with tease and denial every now and then can have  a certain appeal, I am glad Mistress has elected to "stay the course" and continue pampering her house slave. 

14 Days of Denial? Really?

Mistress and slave are in their final hours at our sublime SW sanctuary.  We head to the airport after some brisk wake-up sex in a little while.  Yesterday we took a break from skiing (well the lifts were closed as is typical on a Monday this early in the season), and headed into town for some Christmas shopping. It was a restful final day, that included our morning sexual adventures as well as a late afternoon bike-ride.

And while we did not engage in a two-a-day as we had earlier in the week, our morning sex was particularly energetic, with lots of cock riding after slave deployed Mistress's power tool for an exuberant "starter cum".

But what if slave's sexual activities were one sided, like our blogger friend Terri over at "A Married Sissy", who seems to spend weeks at  a time on lock down while Diane enjoys both his oral attentions and the benefits of her lover Paul's cock.

According to this video seminar I stumbled upon (Sexual Denial Makes You Happier), men who have their sexual climaxes rationed are actually happier!  Of course, it's not clear what the scientific basis for this guy's "formula" is, but let me explain.

He claims that the  pace of sexual release to assures a male's optimal happiness is determined by the following formula: (Age - 7) / 4.  That is take your age, subtract 7 and divide the result by 4.  For me that comes out to a cum every 14 days and 4 hours.

Huh?

Of course, this guy is substantially younger than me - maybe 40?  So he's worked out a formula that would allow him to cum once every 8 days or so.  Ageist Bastard!

If you check out the video you will see that his formula for computing his "happiness" is very subjective. I would love to see this theory tested for replication and reliability in an independent laboratory, as any sound scientific theory should.

Interestingly, he is NOT saying a male like me attempting to optimize happiness should not engage in sex for 14 days.  Just not sex taken to orgasm.  So presumably I could deploy my humble work-a-day cock for Mistress's riding pleasures on a regular basis, but just retreat into frustration once she had her fill.

Nor does he mention the need for a cock cage, though I must say I would be tempted to "risk unhappiness" if not secured away during the moments when Mistress was not requiring her cock's services.

Finally, I have operated on the theory that there are health benefits to frequent sexual release?  Aren't their studies that regular usage of all those organs down there helps keep prostrate cancer at bay?  Or have I been making that up?  Doesn't all that release of sexual juices make me a more docile and complaint slave, anxious to please Mistress? Or a t least cook her a nice dinner?

So what do our readers think? Is there any scientific validity to this theory?  Would pacing my sexual releases to once every 14 days make me happier, as well as a more devoted and loving slave?  Or would it turn me all cranky and discontented?

Day in the Sun, Night On the Town

Mistress and slave are winding down their pre-Christmas getaway. On Sunday we packed lots of action into our day: robust wake-up sex with the rising sun shining over the mountains into our bedroom window; lots of skiing on slopes that have more than the typical share of snow this early in the season; then back to our little hideaway where Mistress enjoyed some blazing afternoon sun.

Don't you like the tights she wore under her ski pants?  I know her slave did!

After a nap to rally our strength - with a little worship thrown in - Mistress and slave headed out for a night on the town.

At a "silent auction" for two local charities, we sipped wine and mixed with some of the locals, particularly a recently married f/f couple who seemed taken by Mistress and a little disappointed when they discovered that the balding guy standing next to her at the bar was actually with her. Nevertheless they provided lots of entertainment.  They described themselves as denizens of these parts as well as LA and Denver, who appear on a TV show which is a sort of "Shark Tank" for the burgeoning cannabis industry prompted by the legalization movement in CO, CA and WA.  The two were probably in their early 50's, leaned to the femme side of the spectrum, and were charming in a brash Hollywood sort of way.

Somehow the conversation turned to how welcoming the local community, which might otherwise seem rather traditional,  has been  to lesbian ladies and gay marriage. The blonde of the couple speculated to me that it may be that the western culture was well tuned to strong, independent female "pioneer" types, who could raise a barn, rope a steer, or put a man in his place, if need be.  I happily agreed.

"And that's exactly how Molly and I are", using my best deferential tone.

"So she wears the pants in the family", the blonde said, nodding toward Mistress, with a raised eyebrow. Her eyes seemed  focused with more than a little interest on the fit and sensuous body filling the short skirt and black tights that Mistress was wearing for this "fancy" holiday event.

"You could certainly say that.... absolutely.  I try to be of service to her in whatever way I can....cooking, whatever...."

I'm not sure she got the point about my role here in the UCTMW household, but she and her spouse seemed very interested in getting back in touch with Mistress in the weeks to come.

Mountain Man Sighting

Mistress and slave have been enjoying some plentiful early snow up on our ski mountain this week. The holiday crowds have yet to arrive, giving us the feeling of having our own private ski resort with open trails for getting our legs back in shape for the season.

And with the much missed privacy, we have also had the chance for more raucous and sustained encounters betwixt the sheets.

Of course, one thing missing is that Mistress does not have a side-dish lover in these parts (yet) in order to fully exploit all this privacy.

As if to highlight that one missing piece of the puzzle, she spotted HIM.  It was a post lunch lift ride that traverses a steep double black downhill run, not open yet for need of a few more feet of snow. Below us was a tall, rangy ski patrolman, side stepping down the steep pitch, compacting the first layer of snow with his skis.

"I think that's HIM, slave, Mistress whispered to me."

Sure enough, it was Mistress's "fantasy date", the mountain man of her dreams, who has climbed Mt. Everest more than any other American climber (which guy in this photo do you think HE is?).  Mistress's mountain man  lives somewhere in  our neighborhood here and when he's not leading climbers up Denali or Everest, he spends his winters working the ski patrol to keep in shape and acclimated to high altitudes. Mistress has been drooling over him ever since we saw one of his lectures/slide shows of his adventures. And all week she's been speculating aloud about whether HE is in town rather than climbing some mountain in Antarctica as he is wont to do at this time of year.  Mistress was able to confirm from HIS facebook and instagram posts that he was, indeed, on our mountain this week. She's been craning her neck every time a red jacketed skier passes by.

I yelled an hello to HIM as we passed overhead, and he yelled a jaunty hi back.  But Mistress, blushing a bit, remained silent. No doubt she was distracted by her quickening pulse and the sudden slickening of those clean shaven folds induced by the sudden appearance of her mythic crush.

Of course, Mistress has talked to HIM before. And they are even facebook friends, exchanging a few flippant comments from time to time. But Mistress has never had any extended opportunity to work her lethal charms on HIM.

Alas.   Maybe someday.  Until then, slave will have to do his best to keep Mistress's engines running.

Escape

Mistress and slave headed west early yesterday morning and are now safely ensconced in our SW hideaway. It's great to be here, as the milky way sparkles overhead, and the temperatures dip to 10 degrees.  There is even a little snow pooled around the house, with more up on the mountain where we intend to get the first turns of the season in this morning.

While our early departure precluded wake up sex yesterday morning in River City, we made up for lost time yesterday afternoon as we settled into our bed.

"It's nice not to have to stifle, slave", Mistress said as the dust settled following some robust post sunset coupling.

"No doubt, Mistress....."

While all that TG family time was fun, we have missed our empty nest.

Another person who seems to miss Mistress's empty nest is K, her side-side dish.

As we drove to the airport yesterday, Mistress noticed some text messages from K.

"He knew we were leaving today, but wasn't sure when.... he wanted to come over first thing, while you were still here, and have a little fun."

"Bummer you missed that chance, Mistress."

"Not sure what got him going so early in the morning , but I told him I'm happy to be used  in that way, slave....."

On the ride up to our house later in the day, it seemed that Mistress and K kept up some ongoing text banter about plans for when we get back, which will be all too soon.  And let's not forget J.  He's had some hard family issues to deal with lately, but the two of them had a chaste lunch on Tuesday, and he apparently indicated a desire to get back to basics with Mistress.

At least Mistress has some extracurricular action to look forward to after we return to family and friends for the Christmas holiday.