An Update from Our Long Lost Western Correspondent

After a little taunting over the soccer mom physique of the aging but  wily QB of the Denver Broncos, I was surprised to discover a dispatch shoved beneath our electronic transom yesterday afternoon by our long lost and given up for dead Western Correspondent.

Where have you been all these years, Mike?

It's been a long time since UCTMW had to cobble together a W-2 form for you. Or have to explain to the IRS why we were trying to deduct  barrels of high end lubricant costing $1800 a pop as a "business expense".

Molly, our publisher, also understands the challenges you've had to overcome. The repetitive motion "injury" that arose from all those hours of "chicken choking" certainly made typing impossible for so many months.  We felt your pain! It's good to see you've finally learned how to peck out a story using your left pinky.

We're  proud of your ability to overcome! Although, as shown below, you still need to replace the punctuation bar on that dilapidated keyboard of yours!

So my beloved Broncos have made a record setting 8 Super Bowls

And

Lost 5......

Still I think we have been a very lucky franchise 

We were very lucky to get John Elway

And 

PFM

And TD

And 

Shannon, Meck, Atwater, Smith, Randy

And all of the other greats over the years

So Denver fans are nervous

Our Defense is great

So far.......

We will see

The Sheriff is old and broken down

And Cam seems unstoppable  

He seems like a total freak

What a great player

So for other news from the Mile Hi City

We are still very happy about our pot laws

Wake up America

Our economy is doing great

Tax collection is up 

Although  in cash.......... 

Property values are up

You can’t smoke in public 

So only the tourists do

But you smell a lot less pot than you did before legalization 

I love taking my out of state friends to the pot shop for the first time

It blows them away

The many products surprises them

Most Coloradans' don't smoke 

Edibles are the way to go 

I know that Mick and Molly have been to a rural shop in our great state

But cum to Denver sometime U2 nuts!

Sorry about your team Diane and teri

But I love your blogs!!!

Tip of my hat to the late great Suzanne

Ane Donna 

I will give you a call 

Hope you are doing great

Don't stop blogging Mick and Molly we all love you!!!!!!!!

The rooting for the Donks

Oops…..I realized that I didn't include any sex in my post

My BAD!!!

B and I met this couple a wile a go at the Scarlett Ranch

A swingers club here in Denver that I have written about here  before

They have a Tumblr account called Cuckold Pleasure

Check it out they host Cuckold parties 4 time per year

Rock on Mick and Molly!!!!!!

WC

Super Showdown

Slave actually had an unusual abstinence day yesterday.  Mistress had an early morning meeting which precluded our usual wake-up sex. Although I gave her some oral attention when I woke her at around 6:30 am, as she had requested, there was no time for slave to have his fun.

So it goes.

Then, when I got home last night after a long work day, Mistress was pretty tuckered out from her own very busy day of meetings and other efforts on behalf of her clients.

"I think you're just going to have to wait until the morning slave.....:

"I suppose an unscheduled abstinence day can't hurt me Mistress."

"No I don't think so, slave....in fact it might be good for you."

I did persuade Mistress to let me worship her after dinner, and before bed time.

Yum.

But the real topic of today's blog is the upcoming battle next Sunday between the Panthers and the Donkeys.  It turns out that this puts in conflict the rooting interests of Donna, our Senior Correspondent Emeritus (we haven't heard much from you lately, Donna), who is a Carolina fan, and our Western Correspondent Mike, who is from Donkey land.

After watching the Panthers demolish former Pussycat Carson Palmer last Sunday, I would have to say that the Panthers have the upper-hand in this contest. Their QB seems aptly labeled as "Superman",
combining impressive pinpoint downfield passing skills with a  punishing running style that had him air-born into the end-zone last Sunday. He seems able to defeat most teams with or without pads and helmet.  Word has it that he could show up in more exotic attire for Sunday's big game and still kick Donkey ass. And a little feminine flare might make him a fan favorite with a lot of fans in the City by the Bay.



On the other hand, the aging Donkey QB has little in the way of arm strength left. If he can reach a receiver more than 15 yards downfield it's only with the rocky mountain winds at his back. He makes jaws drop when he wanders out of the pocket and figures a way to stumbles forward for a first down at a stunning 17 mph.  Unlike Cam Newton, he seems to have the physique of a soccer mom, relying instead on his wily experience and numbing the minds of defensive linemen by yelling "Omaha" repeatedly before the ball is snapped.

So this sets up a potential bet betwixt Donna and Mike over the outcome of the big game a week hence in San Francisco. Can't wait to hear what stakes they propose as this titanic struggle approaches!

Mistress Drops By...

Mistress hasn't been downtown to see me lately, so it was nice when I discovered her waiting for me in my office yesterday afternoon.  We had plans to go to a post-work political event, and she had some free time on her schedule beforehand.

You can bet I quickly took advantage of the opportunity to show her my devotion. The chair was pushed up against the door to afford us a modicum of privacy. The old blanket was put in place to absorb errant juices, and Mistress wriggled partially free from her clingy black tights to provide her kneeling slave with sufficient access to provide her a late afternoon cum or two before we headed off into the evening.

Hopefully the folks at the political reception did not notice the sheen of musky Mistress juice smeared on slave's face!

After the reception we went to catch some dinner at a local BBQ joint and ran into a large crowd from our local gay / lesbian community celebrating a birthday. Mistress and slave knew several of the celebrants from work or community activities, and somehow got swept up into the party. Slave particularly enjoyed several of the lovely ladies complementing Mistress on her general gorgeousness, and eyeing her with a certain curious lust.

On the way out, as we talked to the partner of the birthday girl. Another woman, apparently married to a guy,  joined the conversation, and commented on how her husband always wants her to have sex with a woman and let him watch.  Mistress gave me a look and commented "aren't all guys into that?"

Of course, slave enthusiastically agreed, and upped the anti. I suggested to the married straight lady,
"maybe your husband and I  should get you and Molly together to fulfill all of our fantasies!"

The ladies eyes lit up. "Now you're the kind of man I like!"

I hope Mistress got her number.

Tough Night for the Pretty Boy

I suspect our Western Correspondent was enjoying the thrill of victory last night, basking in the reflected glow of his Donkeys and their aging QB, who are heading for one more trip to the Super Bowl. The wily old veteran may have lost a step and a few dozen yards on his "long ball", but he seemed to have enough in the tank yesterday to eek out a victory.



But for every victor, there is someone coming to grips with ignominious defeat, isn't there?

 And paying the price for it with his erstwhile supporters.

And so let's all show just a little sympathy for the guy who had to go home last night and explain to his super model wife Giselle what exactly went wrong. I'm betting it wasn't pretty. At least he has until spring drills to let those welts heal.

Dodged the Snow Bullet

Mistress and slave hunkered down here this weekend, heeding all the alarmist weather reports. Unlike the goof balls who seem oblivious to weather reports, we did not decide to take a ride down I-75 into Kentucky, where certain motorists purportedly got stuck in the snow for 24 hours.

I'm sorry, but what were you so desperate to see in Tennessee or Georgia that you decided to brave a blizzard to get there faster?

As it turned out, "snowzilla" was a bust in these parts. We got only an inch or two on Friday night, then the sun actually came out in the afternoon.

But that didn't really change our game plan. There was warmth sharing wake-up sex in the UCTMW executive suite yesterday morning.  We then went off on some solo missions - spending time with our respective Mothers - before we reassembled at around 2:30 pm - back in bed.

Mistress had a big shopping bag she brought home from her lunch with the dowager domme.

When I inquired as to its contents, she rolled her eyes.

"My mother's always off-loading stuff on me, slave".

The dowager domme is quite a shopper and collector, so you never know what might be involved when she makes more room in her closet for even more stuff.

"Kinky shoes, Mistress?  Or a designer strap-on harness?"

"No slave.  just a couple of cashmere sweaters."

I tried to hide my disappointment.

We then settled under the covers, turned on the heating blanket and read for a while before drifting off to a late afternoon nap.

And afterwards, well being suitably rested both Mistress and slave were ready for our "two-a-day" session.

"Why not put in your device, slave?"  (the aneros).

"Why not, indeed, Mistress....?"

Rest assured I made sure Mistress had a couple of cums with my highly skilled tongue before I took advantage of my opportunity for the second round of love making of our day.

Today we may not have time for that "two-a-day". One of my older daughters will be over to watch the pussycat-less NFL playoffs. And while I don't really have a dog in this hunt, watching what will surely be the last of the Manning v. Brady match-ups should be entertaining.

I will be rooting for our Western Correspondent's Donkeys. It's the sort of match-up where we will all miss the banter with Suzanne, our long lost blog-competitor at "All Mine".  Who can forget our speculation that, at heart, handsome Tom is actually a submissive to his super model Mistress, with some cute panties under that manly Patriots' costume.

The nightcap will feature a former Pussycats' QB, a guy who's career ended here prematurely, in my opinion. Gotta root for Carson Palmer, even if he may be a little inexperienced in the play-offs. I assume our fellow blogger Terri over at "A Married Sissy" will be pulling for the Cardinals.

Let's hope that wedding your attending will be over before the big game!

Snow Day

Mistress and slave woke to a nice coating of snow here yesterday. Nothing like the 18 inches experienced during our recent SW getaway, but the type of cold slippery stuff that cripples commutes here in River City.

It made slave want to spend a little more time in bed with Mistress before clearing enough of the drive as to allow me to back my car out. After our wake-up sex was consummated, I bundled up and headed to work. Mistress made the wiser choice of cancelling her morning spinning session and a lunch meeting, and hunkered down to work from home for the day.

I safely made it to work, slipping here and there in the slow traffic. And used the snow as an excuse to head home early, finding Mistress safely tucked into our bed, pretty much where I had left her in the morning.

"I actually did a lot of work today, slave!"

I did not doubt her, but when you can work from home, why not use your lap-top in bed rather than trundle about our drafty old house?

Rest assured that one of the rituals that soon unfolded involved a pre-dinner apertivo (not unlike the tableau depicted above) to make sure Mistress did not have to resort to self-help as a reward for a "hard day at the office".

BTW, there's more snow headed here on Friday.  I think I'd better bring home a "snow day bag" from work, in case I am persuaded to join Mistress for another "work from home" day.  Despite the distractions, I am sure we can both be very productive.

Domme Wife / Sub Hub Get the Showtime Treatment

Mistress and slave had the sort of weekend that comes up this time of year when your local NFL team has been ignominiously eliminated from the play-offs. In other words, it was too cold outside to do anything productive, and there was little to focus our attention on other than sharing mutual warmth under the covers of our bed.

Well, that, and watch otherwise inconsequential football games.

Of course, we did do some boringly responsible things: visiting aging mothers, hanging with my grandkids. etc. But we had polished those items off the "to do" list on Saturday, leaving Sunday to our own pursuits.  Than involved sleeping in and making sure Mistress got to spend some time with her favorite power tool before she emerged to go to her spinning session.

At some point the Dowager Domme stopped by to pick up our daughter for brunch. Knowing I owed our readers a blog, I had my camera ready, but her shoes were pretty tame for a change: just some brown suede boots.  Not kinky enough to risk a surreptitious papparazi moment.

Left alone, there was that rather dull Carolina / Seattle game to entertain us. It was so (seemingly) dull that at half time we returned to our bed for a mid-afternoon nap, and another opportunity for slave to worship Mistress once she had finished her beauty rest.

That left the 2nd game of the day. Slave was happy to see the Donkeys finally eliminate the hated Stillers. Congratulations Mike! Peyton Fucking Manning lives to fight a final death match with Tom Brady. But remember, Mike, it was the Pussycats who softened them up for the kill! Every Matador needs a good Picador to poke holes and start the bleeding!

Monday was a sort of holiday in town. And while both of us went to work, it was easy for slave to slip out early, leaving time for some sundown sex in the UCTMW Executive Suite. A good way to start the work week if there is any good way.

After recovering, slave whipped up some dinner and we settled into watch the new Showtime series Billions, which stars Damien Lewis as a charmingly sleazy hedge fund billionaire, and Paul Giamatti as his Prosecutorial nemesis. It all sounded fairly predictable, until the very first scene popped up:

That's right: It's the son of the late baseball commissioner trussed up  and gagged in his boxers. And it's no kidnapping. Soon a mysterious lady in black highheeled boots looms over him, and proceeds to put her cigarette out on his left nipple.  Ouch.

So from the start you can tell this is not just your ordinary white collar procedural.

But who is the mystery lady? A Pro Domme that this over-caffeinated zealot goes to for therapy? His Secretary, earning some easy overtime hours?

Later you see scenes with the US Attorney, his dark haired wife (played by Maggie Siff) and their cute little kids at home. All pretty domestic and vanilla. And the wife turns out to be a Psychiatrist who, naturally, works for the hedge fund billionaire, setting  up a conflict of interest that will be a source of drama in episodes to come.

It's not until the final frames of Episode I that the show reveals the true nature of the Prosecutor's marriage. Home from a busy day at the office sending crooks to jail,  Giamatti  discovers that the cute little kids are already in bed and Mom is ready to take on her proper role:

Now those are boots worthy of Mistress, or the Dowager Domme.

It's good to see that the female led relationship has broken into the mainstream.

Or at least Pay cable.

Back In River City. . . Argh!

Not much to report here at UCTMW World HQ.

We are back in town after a very pleasant two weeks of empty nesting at our beloved SW hideaway.  It always takes a while to come back to earth here in the heartland.

Adjusting to the time.

Breaking away from the heavenly routine of sex, skiing, napping, more sex....

And it's that time of year when clients and employees expect you to get your head back in the game and do their bidding.

Bummer.

Rest assured that Mistress and slave have made sure to keep certain rituals in tact: I've had to wake Mistress for our morning wake-up sex these last few days.  She hates to break away from mountain time!

And there's been some post-office worship, of course.

Sadly for her, rendezvous with Mistress's side-dishes have been a little hard to organize.

It's said that Jay's foot is in some sort of boot. Which apparently cramps his sexual stylings.

And with our daughter on a rather unpredictable work schedule, it's a little hard for Mistress to know when or whether to invite her side-side dish K to "stop by for lunch."

And of course the weather here in River City this time of year can also make things a little gloomier than normal.

Maybe once we get past the denial stage things will perk up!

Until then.....

Heading Back to The Heartland.

The sun was bright all weekend as Mistress and slave enjoyed the final two days of our glorious Holiday escape. But duty calls. We head home today, most reluctantly. If not, sooner or later the folks we work for might notice that we are missing!

Of course, we did get in some weekend nookie. Sunday morning slave deployed most effectively Mistress's favorite power tool to supplement the more mundane attentions of slave's attentive tongue. The result was what you might expect: a nice shuddering climax for Mistress that primed the pump for further proceedings as the sun rose over the mountain that lurked outside our bedroom window.

Mistress returned the favor by having her slave insert "your device" (the aneros) which always has the effect of making slave's cock particularly insistent when it comes time for Mistress to do a little cock riding.

Awaiting us back in River City seems to be a week of gray gloom, with the first dusting of snow of the season bound to put the locals in a bitchy mood. And of course there is the long depressing hangover the community will be struggling to shed after Saturday night's embarrassing melt-down by the local Pussycats, who once again were not ready for prime time.

Of course we do have some darling daughters and grandkids to catch up with.  That's good right?

But all in all, Mistress and slave seem most content out here in the sunny southwest, where life is laid back, the sun is shining, and a neighbor with a 50 year old tractor named Sam can be enlisted to help unclog a snow buried driveway.

Now if she can only find a cowboy side-dish.

Let It Snow

Mistress and slave have been buried in what seems like about 18 inches of new snow over the last two days here in the high desert.

Of course, there are some benefits in being snowed in.  While we had some work to do on Thursday morning, we worked in a mid-morning "sex break" (as previously reported) and also a post-nap late afternoon two-fer, that involved Mistress doing some rather enthusiastic cock riding to top off her orgasm count for the day. (But who's counting).

Yesterday we could not resist the impulse to drive up to our local ski mountain to enjoy a powder day.  But what was the rush?  we lolled in bed a little longer than usual for some pre-ski delight, before struggling to get our car out of the driveway. Slave is not into shoveling at 7000 ft., but sometimes you have to do what you have to do.

We look forward to the first sun in a few days here today, and some more morning sex before we head back up the mountain.

But before signing off, I wanted to respond to some speculation about the potential plot twist on Downton Abbey: the notion that Lady Mary might save the families struggling estate by selling her services as a Domme to the aristocracy.

Terri over at A Married Sissy asked what an antique strap on might look like. And despite exhaustive research., I must say I came up short.  Certainly the Brit twits of the Victorian era were no strangers to pegging. But the notion of synthetic or plastic faux cocks for rear entry was out fo the question in those days. The best I could come up with were some rather exotic  "rectal dilators" that the cracker jack set and artifact designers for DA could replicate or dust off for Lady Mary's use:

Certainly these could be fitted with an appropriately authentic leather harness for Lady Mary to put to good use.  And then there is the old stand-by  "double header" which could also be adapted to punch up this story line. 

It would certainly be better than implicating Bates in yet another murder of yet another good for nothing.

But Lady Mary probably doesn't need a whole lot of "kit" to play the role of a Domme, does she?  She already has that superior attitude that can put any male, regardless of title or the size of his trust fund, in his place. This photo is a good example:

Can't you imagine what's going on just below where this photo is cropped. No doubt some less than adequately endowed suitor with a fancy title is doing his best to please her with an avid if unskilled tongue. And she's totally unimpressed with his skills. Hopefully by the final episode she can whip a few of those twits into shape!

Terri, I know you and I could do better considering our experience and training! But we could never nail those posh accents.

Shelter From the Storm

It's probably good that Mistress and slave planned a ski break for today, after 7 consecutive days of hitting the slopes. Slave's aging legs were feeling the mileage. We had some pent up work demands, including some long conference calls. Plus, last night the "big dump" occurred, burying our little hideaway in about 10 inches of fresh fluffy.

It was our first snow storm of the season, and to show the contrast, here are some photos. The first shows Mistress last summer, absorbing some rays on our patio.  (You can also see my rather sketchy effort to stucco the wall, but rest assured it looks better now).  I might add that by the time we returned to River City, those tan lines were hard to discern.

The second photo shows our patio this morning, where only a few short months ago, Mistress was lounging in the bright high desert sunshine.

While all that new powder will be fun on the mountain, driving up the canyon to enjoy it would probably be a challenge this morning.

So instead, SLave listened in on a long business call while Mistress worked on her computer in our toasty bed.

We've been talking about whether slave will "work from home" once I retire from my permanent gig.  Mistress already uses a home office for her business. We discovered one advantage of both of us working from home at about 9 am this morning.  We both set aside our work projects for a "sex break".

While I was up to early and on the phone for our typical wake up sex, this could be a nice change of pace.

"It's better than a coffee break, Mistress", I added as we snuggled after the action was concluded.

"It definitely has it's advantages, slave."

Of course, now I need another cup of coffee.

Downton Domme

Sunday night Mistress and I spent the evening at home, fireplace roaring. We whipped up some pasta Alfredo and a salad and then settled down in front of the TV for the launch of the final season of one of Mistress's long time favorite shows: Downton Abby.

It's been a long five years since the Crawley clan began their odyssey across two decades of the decline of the English aristocracy. And Slave has a sorry history of making snarky comments at the "plight" of a family forced to suffer the indignity of being short a footman or two when serving a betwixt courses consomme to  dinner guests like "Shrimpy" and his ill tempered wife. Or warding off the sexual antics of some low level Turkish envoy who found his way into one of their daughter's "chambers".

Mistress gave me strict instructions as we suffered through the introductory countdown to the first new episode: "slave I don't want to hear you making snide comments once the show starts!"

"I guess this is where a good ball gag could come in handy, Mistress."

"Maybe I should have put that on my Christmas list, slave....."

Aspiring to be an obedient slave, I did my best  to stifle my snark. I suppose part of it is my Irish cultural affinities. My namesake here on this blog is no accident. My favorite character on Downton is the  former chauffeur with Irish Republican sympathies who bedded the youngest daughter and, once they were forced to marry, was reluctantly allowed to spend evenings upstairs. Although I think the Butler always counted the silver when said former chauffeur dined with the family.

Once the episode ended, and slave was allowed to express some views about what had transpired, our conversation shifted to how the series might end:

"Do you think they'll have to lay off the staff and  sell off the house and all those ancestral paintings and tea services, Mistress?"

"That seems to be where it's heading, slave."

But then I had a better idea.

"Lady Mary with that riding crop and in those boots was kind of hot, Mistress... Now that she seems to be settling into spinster-hood, maybe she can embrace her inner Domme and open a dungeon in the basement to bring in some extra cash!"

Mistress seemed open minded to the notion. And when you think of it, 'Lady' Mary does have that sort of haughty, no fool tolerance quality that could make for a good Domme. And all those Brit twits suitors who seem to flutter around her could certainly use a good  pegging to get their pathetic little lives back in order and make them productive members of society once their trust funds run out. Maybe those costume signers can design an historically accurate strap-on for  Lady Mary to deploy on some groveling Lord or Duke before the series concludes. Then your local PBS affiliate could  use genuine replicas as premiums for their next fund raising drive.

I wonder if it's too late to get this story idea to the guy who writes all this clap trap? And can I get some royalties. At least enough to invest in a comfortable ball gag for the remaining episodes.

In Her Dreams

Mistress and slave have fallen into a bit of a groove here in the SW, which can make blogging a little challenging.  How many times do our readers want to here about more sex, more skiing, more sunshine, more beautiful sunsets. Lather. Rinse. Repeat.

I did break out Mistress's reserve hitachi yesterday morning to give Mistress a change-up from her slave's devoted tongue. So that's something.

But there was one thing kind of amusing to break the repetitive cycle.  Mistress mentioned it when she woke up Sunday morning:

"I dreamed I was having sex with Mike (our unproductive Western Correspondent), Slave.  And (our youngest daughter) caught us."

I laughed, but seeing some blogging material, asked for some more details --

"Where was this Mistress?"

"In my old bedroom, at my mother's house...."

Hmmm.  I am wondering if the Dowager Domme got a look at Mike's special occasion cock?  Or if Mike got a look at her kinky shoe collection?

"And what did (our daughter) say about all this?"

"I told her that you knew about it and thought it was OK.  And that Mike was the guy I used to text with a few years back.  She was always curious about that.  I told her that Mike was just a friend of me and her father's.... after that she seemed cool with it."

It's good to know our daughter, now off to Europe for yet another adventure,  is so understanding....

"So what sort of sex were you having with Mike?"

"I can't remember much about that ... just regular sex I guess."

Mike, if you're still paying attention, how was it for you?

Happy New Year From Molly and Mick

As  the sun set here on 2015 at our little high desert hideaway,  Mistress and her devoted slave send Happy New Year greetings to all of our friends, devotees and lurkers!

Our own New Year's Eve celebration was pretty laid back - luscious wake up sex, skiing in bright SW sunshine, a little apres ski nap, worship for Mistress, and then a quiet dinner for two at one of Mistress's favorite restaurants, where she could special order a crisp gluten free pizza. I think she also enjoys the attention of the flirtatious Italian owner, with a very bushy moustache, who always gives her a big hug after guiding her to our table.

We always try to be back in bed together before the clock strikes midnight, and (barely) achieved our objective last night.

There is no place like being quietly snuggled in Mistress's arms when the new year arrives!

We hope all of you enjoyed 2015 as much as we did, and will have even more fun in 2016!