The Doctor Is In

Slave's sad 3 days of solitude are almost over. Mistress and our daughter are already in the car, headed back from the River City.  And you will be surprised to hear that slave was a slacker when it came to exploiting Mistress's "permission" to self-abuse daily while she was away.  I did it Sunday evening, and again on Monday night.  But by yesterday I couldn't muster the energy or interest in taking matters into my own hands.

I guess I am spoiled. I read over at A Married Sissy this morning that Terri has had only 11 orgasms in 2016. That's a little less than my average over two weeks. I may typically miss one day each week. But that's about it. And every now and then there might be a two-a-day!  Talk about your pampered house slave!  So I guess it makes sense that permissive pocket pool would seem like a yawn to me.  It's so much better to have Mistress's assistance!

I also dodged any cage time on this brief hiatus from daily supervision.  Following Mistress's edict, I was able to go to work cageless on Monday and will today because I rode my bike to work.  And yesterday - well there was an MD appointment at the dermatologist. It was time for my annual check-up for this fair skinned Irish lad. Since my MD - a sultry Iranian lady with a kinky wardrobe - is very thorough, well you would not want slave to be embarrassed!

Sure enough my MD appeared in her traditional black leather pants. But since it's still August, she was not in the knee high black boots she sported last November when we met for the first time.  Instead, she had on some strappy black sandals, showing off some well groomed toes in some sort of dark, purplish toe polish.  Impressive. Though not quite as kinky as some fantasy Domme MDs might be.

It turns out I was prudent not to wear the cage. On arrival the perky assistant proposed that I disrobe and put on one of those flimsy surgical gowns. (In green, not pink, Terri!)

"Opening in the back", she helpfully reminded. As if I would think to put the damn thing on with my front wide open, connected only by a couple of flimsy laces.

Soon my Doctor Domme swept into the room, dark hair and smoldering  eyes quickly sizing up my mottled, aging skin with a wisdom beyond her ears.  She quickly ordered me to shed the thin garment to allow for a less obscured inspection.

I had on some madonna blue underpants Mistress had selected for me -  a bit long in the leg, and very soft fabric. Not quite "panties" but the texture comes close.  If Doctor Domme reacted to them, I couldn't tell.  She had me turn around, and had one more direction.

"Would you mind dropping your shorts so I can take a better look down there?"

"Of course not.....( oops....I had to stifle the impulse to conclude with a "mistress"..... I guess that's what happens when I'm left unmoored for three whole days.)

In any event, hopefully Mistress will now understand why I didn't wear the cage yesterday.

Soon my inspection was over. But before I left there was some "discipline" in the form of her torturing my face and head with some of that ultra cold gas she sprayed from a little tank to freeze off some "pre-cancerous" spots here and there.

"Maybe I should just stick my head in a bucket of that stuff" I snarked.  She was not amused.

Sadly, she then left me to my own devices, with a nod and hand shake and instructions to come back in two months. I quickly climbed back into my street clothes, and caught one more glimpse of her at her desk computer, no doubt recording the results of my exam.  Or maybe she was just checking her "Fetlife" or "collarspace" in box?

Solitary slave

To entertain our Domme in training, Mistress loaded up the car yesterday and drove her up to the Windy City to visit with Mistress's sister. It's about a 5.5 hour drive, and sister's apartment is right near the Beach, so Mistress should have a little relaxation time, though surely she will miss her slave's daily worship.  How can you not miss this sort of well trained orgasm delivery system?

(Fortunately, we did have time for some stealth sex in our bedroom yesterday morning to tide Mistress over.)

But what about me, you might ask?  How is slave going to handle three nights solo without getting into all sorts of mischief?

Rest assured, I was well and safely occupied last night, sharing some pizza with my oldest daughter and three cute grandkids.  Then home to watch a meaningless Pussycats  exhibition game.  

Mistress did lay out some ground rules>

"If you're not riding your bike to work, then you should be in your cage, slave."

"Yes, Mistress".

I see this rule as an incentive to exercise.  And it looks like the weather will cooperate today.

"And you can play with yourself once a day while I'm gone, slave...."

Well that won't be too hard to comply with.  I can just hear Terri and Diane scoffing about this one.

And even though we had our Sunday morning to tide me over, I took advantage of my privilege last evening, after watching the Pussycats build a comfortable lead against the hapless lesser Pussycats from north Florida.

I guess it could be  worse.  Mistress could have left me with a babysitter.

Staycation

Mistress had a busy day yesterday.  After our stealth morning worship and wake-up session, she was quickly at work at her computer on a long project for a client. But she broke at lunch time for a date with her lover Jay.

While it was a date of sorts, it was chaste and chaparoned affair: our daughter tagged along for her stick shift driving instructions. But Jay drives a hard bargain (in addition to hard appendages). He extracted a sushi lunch with Mistress and the Domme in Training.

"So how did that go, Mistress.... was our loving daughter suspicious?"

"She seemed to buy the story that we met through work and have become friends."

Sounds as if the lessons went well.  Another may be scheduled next week.

But the big news is that our little darling actually had social plans last night. One of my older daughters pried her loose from our home for dinner and a movie.

At last.....our Nest was empty again.

Rest assured Mistress and slave took full advantage of a few hours of freedom.

Although we were tempted to do it on the living room floor like this cute couple with the vivid wall paper, we quickly  retreated to the "Executive Suite"  for an extended pre-dinner "open door" session, involving lots of worship and a modicum of cock riding with the noise modulators off.

It was liberating to know that if slave was able to use his meager skills to induce a cum or two from Mistress, she would not have to squelch those inspiring sounds of passion.

Once the dust settled, there was a late "snack" dinner in our living room, binging on the "Casual" TV series we had lost track of..... then back to bed where we slept soundly after a night of liberation.

Of course, all good "staycations" come to an end.  Our daughter is back in her bedroom next door. When I worship Mistress this morning, we will be back to "stealth mode".

But better than not at all, right?

Crowded House

I woke up this morning, looked morosely at our blog, and realized it's been six days since slave posted here.  That could be an Olympic record for sloth, if the Olympics add that event, along with bowling and tanning, to the program in 4 years. In fact, maybe I should start training now?

The problem is that even with the very low bar set here for "news" worth blogging, it's been a very slow week in River City as far as kinky carryings-on go.

We've had our prodigal daughter visiting for what now seems #longenoughtoseemlikemovingbackin time. And then on Thursday night the older daughter was back with her boy friend for a few nights. So there have been plenty of family socializing and very little kinky sex.  While Mistress and slave have been able to squeeze in some morning sexual activity, it's been of the "keep it quiet or we'll scandalize the children" varierty.  It's made even this kind of lazy slave long for the lazy afternoons of ass-cropping and pegging that are the provinces of an empty nest, not a crowded house.

Last night, instead of a quiet evening at home we had the grand family dinner, with all four of my daughters, three cute grandkids, and the Dowager Domme and her husband. Slave smoked some Salmon for the occassion. We had hoped to eat outside, but it looked like it might rain, and the Dowager Domme doesn't like to eat on our rustic patio with it's uneven brick surface. It's hard on her lizard shoes!  (I can't make that stuff up!).  While the event was festive, I have t admit a sigh of relief when the final guest departed and the clean up was done. Only then could Mistress and slave retreat to the private confines of the executive suite here at the UCTMW World HQ.

And of course, poor Mistress has no free time to enjoy the privileges of her permission to enjoy the bounty of Jay's alpha cock. Our daughter is very efficient at keeping track of her whereabouts and making sure she tags along if a meal is involved. Although word has it that Jay may get called into service for other duties this week: our daughter wants to learn how to drive a standard transmission car, and he's the only one who has one that we know of.  You can imagine Mistress's efforts to persuade Jay to take on this kamikaze mission with his cute little Honda Civic GT; and her response to our daughter's question "so how do you know this guy?"

Sadly, this may go on for a few more weeks.  Our younger daughter plans to camp here until her new visa to return for another year of "study" in the Euro-Zone comes through. And as all you Brexiters know, the machinery of the European Union bureaucracy grinds oh-so-slowly.  What ever happened to the days when you could cram a few bucks into the breast pocket of a corrupt embassy official and get prompt service?

Now they are too focused on making big donations to the Clinton Foundation to make sure the skids are greased in the next administration?

Never mind.  There's no point in a "sex blog" without sex in it.  I suggest you tune into "A Married Sissy" if you want some real action for the rest of this month.

Run Silent, Run Deep

Our youngest daughter is back from "The Continent" for about 4 weeks.

"All the Europeans take August off....so it's kind of boring there this time of year."

Well, we're glad to see you too, honey, even if it's just because the bars in Brussels aren't as much fun in August.

Honestly, it is good to see her. It;s been nearly 8 months for me. And I suppose we should be flattered that she is willing to spend so much time with us.  At her age, I would not have been caught dead spending more than an hour or two a week with my parents, let alone four weeks.

Though it's clear after only 3 days of chilling with her parents that we are already getting on her nerves. The lectures on how boorish and loud we ugly Americans are have begun. Like at the movies yesterday, when she was chowing down on a big box of popcorn.

"In Europe at the movies, they don't eat in the theatre. People don't like all that loud chewing."

"crunch....crunch.....crunch....."

Ah well.

The biggest issue is that with her ensconced in the bedroom next to ours, Mistress and slave have to be sensitive about what we say in the privacy of our own bed.

"You know I can hear you talking about me!"

OK.  But what about when we're not talking?  Mistress and slave have resorted to "furtive coupling" mode. Continuing to "do it", but under the covers and without the ecstatic sounds that might typically  be produced by some robust wake up sex, or afternoon worship.  And that also forestalls use of some of our louder means of sexual entertainment: It may be a while before slave gets to deploy Mistress's favorite power tool, or she dons her harness / strap-on.  But at least it seems unlikely that slave will experience one of those noisy croppings on some trumped up charge.

But when you are in stealth mode, as we are required to be, there is a certain devious appeal.  It reminds you of those teenage  days when make out sessions had to occur in the basement, as parents prowled above.  Can you sneak up on that "launch mode" without someone figuring out what is going on?

Will Mistress and Slave be able to "torpedo their way to glory"?

Or will those nasty depth charges get us first?

Overnight With Her Lover

It was a relatively laid back cuckolding sleepover here on Wednesday night.

Slave planned a summery dinner of grilled fish, and fresh from the farmer's market sweet corn and green beans.  Mistress and Jay chatted in our living room over beverages, as I "slaved away" in the kitchen.  Dinner was served in our garden on a night when the heat and humidity of River City was at its apex.

Afterwards, there was some Low key lounging in our living room and even some TV watching. It was a work night after all, and we were all a little lazy.

Typically slave and Mistress cuddle on the couch when watching TV, Mistress stretched out, her uncovered folds tempting me to linger with my fingers.

It was different with Jay there..... Slave ceded the couch to his wife and her lover.  Mistress stretched her legs onto Jay's legs, seemingly teasing his cock through his shorts with her bare tootsies. As you might expect, that was a little distracting to slave as I sat in a nearby chair.

Of course, Mistress seems to enjoy having both of her men dote on her.  I had even suggested that I could make myself scarce for the evening so she and Jay would have some private time.  But she insisted that I remain home, apparently valuing both my company and cooking!

Jay remains a reluctant cuckolder. He really doesn't "get" the humiliation element that floats some cuckolding boats. He's even a tad embarrassed to share Mistress's bed when I'm around.  So it was not surprising when he took me aside in our kitchen when Mistress was upstairs....

"Mick.... the plan is that  I stay the night. Are you sure that's OK with you?"

"Not a problem, Jay.....Molly enjoys it, and it's all about her as far as I'm concerned...."

Truth be told, Jay probably thinks old Mick has a screw loose.  But he was more than happy to climb the stairs with Mistress and join her in our bed when our show was over.

I went to bed a little later, in the adjoining bedroom of one of our absent daughters.

And while the after action reports suggested it was not one of those incendiary sex nights -- Mistress had a very early meeting Thursday which cramped her wake-up sex style -- she seemed happy with the outcome.

"Don't worry slave.... I had my quota this morning.....", she said as she paraded into our kitchen, completely naked, at about 6:30 am.  I brewed some coffee for her lover, and she brought it upstairs to him before hitting the shower and putting on her work armor.

It was about 30 minutes later when she and Jay came back downstairs, fully dressed and ready to face their days.

She kissed me goodbye as she and Jay left our back door early.... him headed to his car, she to hers.

It was then my time for the  shower and getting dressed.

Just another day in the life of Molly and mick.

But back to normal this morning.....fortunately Mistress has no one but me here this morning to float her boat!  And with our prodigal daughter headed home this afternoon, I'd better strike while the nest remains empty.

Foxy Lady

Mistress let me know yesterday that her lover Jay will be joining us for dinner tonight.  It's up to me to plan a proper meal. Something nourishing and tasty, but not so filling that it would unduly weigh down the two love birds should they choose to enjoy a private night cap in Mistress's executive suite.

Will this be a sleepover that relegates slave to our daughter's room for the night?  Not sure. Mistress has a very early meeting on Thursday morning that might compromise plans for Jay to share her bed through the night.  But then..... tune in tomorrow and I will provide the sordid details.

But here's something I noted yesterday in the media that's worth sharing.

We've all followed the sad plight of the ladies of Fox News. Who would think that a network that treats their on-air female talking heads as "eye candy" , with a special leg cam to go with their "no pants" rule. I'm not a big fan of FOX, but wasn't it obvious to anyone that the modus operandi at FOX was to show off the gams and not the brains of their female on-air personalities?

So is it hard to believe that after much high priced internal investigating that their former poo-bah Roger Ailes had a habit of shaking down his ladies for sexual favors?

I think we've seen this movie, haven't we?

But yesterday it got a little better for those of you with a kink proclivity.

When a sexual harassment claim draws blood, it's not unusual for other potential claimants to come forward. Is it because the new accusers  were previously intimidated by "the man" to speak up? Or is it just piling on and hoping to get a quick, copy-cat  pay-day?

Ao it came as no surprise that a new accuser popped up this week. A certain Andrea Tantaros. Not exactly a household name.  But she now claims she was one of those ladies from the Fox stable of right wing scolds who claims that  she was asked to "do the twirl" for Roger. As a consequence of her refusal, she was relegated to the back bench, and found fewer and fewer opportunities to opine on-air that there  may be a radical Muslim sleeper cell residing in the White House.  Ultimately, she was off the air all together.

But the Fox News spokesman has a different spin. That story is that sweet Andrea was taken off the air not because of her failure to succumb to the Boss's prurient importunings; but because she refused to have her book cover approved by the Network. As a hot young Fox personality might be expected to do, Andrea wrote a book explaining why feminism was really a terrible  deal for women. The title:"Tied Up In Knots. How Getting What We Want Made Women Miserable".  

Considering the title, it was only natural that the cover have a bondage theme, right?

So was Andrea booted off the air because she would not play Princess Leah to Roger's Jabba?  Or was it because she had the bad taste to hawk her books with a kinky cover?

After this fair and balanced presentation of the facts, I will let my readers make the call.

Meanwhile, I have some menu planning to do.

Cuckolding Comes to Cable

Mistress and slave are back in River City, settling into a routine of sorts as we await the return of our prodigal daughter, who will arrive on Friday from "the Continent" and infest our nest for a month or so. While we had the chance to watch a show that daughter would sneer at, we finished the smutty "Girlfriend Experience" series we had started before our SW holiday.

You may recall the show is about a law school student who decides to make some extra cash as an escort. This gives the Director plenty of opportunities to show the star, Riley Keough (Elvis's granddaughter) in various stages of undress and multiple sexual positions. It's the closest thing to soft core porn I've seen on a conventional cable network. (Although there were some hot dominatrix scenes in "Billions"!)

But the final episode of the season / series was a lengthy ode to cuckolding worth watching on it's own if that is an itch you enjoy scratching. It was one long sex scene that seemed to go on and on.... covering virtually the entire episode,

The premise: wealthy middle age John watches as Riley enjoys a sexual encounter with a younger stud in a plush hotel suite overlooking Lake Michigan. There is some rather elaborate role playing as the two younger lovers describe their affections / lust for one another, pretending the old "husband" is not there. In the end, after the younger guy leaves (with his envelope of cash) the "husband" gets to taste the spoils of his "wife's" afternoon delight. Of course, it's all a  bit transactional, but it had a certain appeal to those of us who play this game for real, and not for $$.  And the effect on Mistress was not to be discounted.  As we sat on our couch, Mistress in her nightie, sans undies, slave was able to prompt Mistress to a couple of cums with my meaty paw.

Definitely two cums up for this episode, and the series as a whole, from Mistress and her devoted slave.

Short Circuited

Mistress and slave reluctantly abandoned our SW hideaway for the long trek home yesterday. Fortunately, our flight was later in the afternoon, giving us time for one final round of morning sex and cycling before hitting the road.  Now I'm back at our kitchen counter again, sipping coffee and biding my time until Mistress awakens and summons me to service.

Sadly, it's almost as if we never left.

Or maybe it's better to say that we are  picking up where we left off. After all, life is not so terrible for us here in River City.  After a blistering "cuckold week" before we left, Mistress has been in touch over the last two weeks with her lover Jay. And I suspect there is some building pent up demand on both of their parts.  She gave me a "cuckold alert" on the way home last night.

"I may be seeing Jay on Tuesday evening slave.....,"  was how she put me on notice that I should consider making other plans that evening.

As we flew from ABQ to MSP to River City yesterday, we had a chance to do some people watching as the crowds changed from SW to Prairie to Midwest. And one of Mistress's pet peeves was highlighted: lots of older, larger and frumpy guys in shorts and sandals.  Mistress is a bit of a traditionalist. She tends to believe that guys' groady feet and hairy legs are not something that should be publicly displayed other than at the beach or sporting events.  This got us talking about an article I read on Friday in the Washington Post about the geographical and cultural divide between men who wear "cargo shorts" and "jorts" (i.e. jean shorts). Real American Men Don't Wear Shorts. Here's an excerpt:

While I've long been a believer in Shorts' Rights — especially in the workplace during sweltering Mid-Atlantic summers — I nonetheless sympathize with the views expressed in the Wall Street Journal: that cargo shorts are bulky, aggressively dad-ish, and "like lingerie for not having sex," as Vocativ's Erin Gloria Ryan opined today on Twitter.

The obsession with cargo shorts is all the more puzzling when you consider that there's already a cool, casual, impeccably American option for men's casual leg wear: jorts.

[I wore shorts to the office and nothing will ever be the same]

While jean shorts' stylistic advantages over cargo shorts are immediately apparent to anyone with eyes, the true appeal of jorts lies in their evocation of all the things that make America great: warm summer nights, sandlot baseball games, first dates at the drive-in and making out in the back of an F-150 while John Cougar Mellencamp rocks the car radio.

Listen to Mellencamp's "Jack & Diane": In your mind's eye, are the two star-crossed Midwestern lovers wearing jean shorts or cargo shorts? The answer, of course, is jorts. Anything else is unthinkable.

As it turns out, there is a stark geographic divide in preferences for cargo shorts and jean shorts. You can trace the contours of this divide by examining the record of Google searches for "jean shorts" and "cargo shorts" going back to 2004. 

 

Quite frankly, it's a debate I was oblivious too, but apparently quite controversial. And the map that accompanied the article shows how this great divide breaks down regionally:

It seems that cargo shorts are more of a Western / East Coast thing, while the Jorts afficianados are more heartland types.   And while I tend to wear shorts for weekend errands or if working in the yard, you'd never catch me out to dinner, let alone going to work in shorts, whether jean or baggy with too many pockets.  And never with my cowboy boots like this character on the right.

Nor would you catch me in those knee scraping baggy numbers:

But this got me thinking about Terri over at A Married Sissy.  Yesterday he got sent over to his wife Diane's friend Linda's house to perform some personal and domestic services whilst Diane was enjoying some private time with her lover Paul.  I got the impression he was going to be dressed to serve. But on a typical Saturday afternoon in their sunny and hot climes, would be be wearing shorts?  And would they be cargo shorts or jorts?  Or maybe something like this?

In any event, they would have to be substantial enough to conceal his cock cage.

Taking the Waters

After some invigorating wake-up sex, Mistress and slave took a road trip yesterday, trying to get away from our work related computers for a bit as our getaway comes to a sad end.

We headed across the Rio Grande to a rather opulent yet rustic hot springs resort, for a day of sun and soaking and reading.  A few years back someone gifted us with a day at a private cabana / pool that allowed naked sunning.  But this time we were a bit more frugal, so bathing costumes were not optional. So you get that rare photo today of Mistress's lush curves more modestly attired.

The place has a rather eclectic crowd: everything from teens perpetually engrossed in their cell phones to little old librarians on summer holiday to biker chicks covered from toe to fingertips with exotic tattoos.

Of course, Mistress was the hottest babe there. Fortunately, the late afternoon monsoon clouds held off until very late in the afternoon, giving Mistress and slave plenty of relaxation time.

Sadly, we head home tomorrow, both of us dreading the heightened pressure of work and family obligations that are sure to arise. Summers end too quickly, don't they?

Less Sex, More Screen Time?

The rivalry between my aging Baby Boomer generation and those young, hip Millennials has opened a new front according to an article in yesterday’s Washington Post.

Boomers like this aging slave have long been known for our self indulgence. Our generational mantra was (and still is) “sex, drugs and  rock and roll”. And did I mention Sex?

It takes a boomer to create a sex blog like me to brag for years in 500 word or less installments about how many times I have sex with my wife/Mistress. Or how many sexual partners she has had.

On the other hand, the Millennials, brought to heel by the ugly of the 2008 recession, are known for their abstemious ways: delaying reproduction, delaying home ownership, getting by on "gigs" rather than “real” jobs, driving less, occupying fewer square feet, etc. etc. The only things they do more of than their boomer parents and grandparents are craft beers and kale salads.

Sadly, it turns out they have sex less too!

That pathetic diagnosis was  confirmed  on a day when Mistress and slave “indulged” twice: once before our morning bike ride, and then later after a lazy nap on an overcast afternoon.  Mistress even got in a little cock riding during round two, that pushed her cum count to at least 4 by my calculation.

The Post Story leads with a headline quoting a Millennial on sex: “There really isn’t anything magical about it.”  It is sourced by  a recent study published in the Archives of Sexual Behavior (my issue must be in my mailbox at home!) to the effect that Millennials, particularly the younger ones,  are having sex less frequently and with fewer partners than the self-indulgent boomer generation.

It’s a less sexy time to be young than it used to be, despite millennials’ reputation as bed-hoppers frolicking like the characters on “Girls.” A study published Tuesday in the journal Archives of Sexual Behavior finds that younger millennials — born in the 1990s — are more than twice as likely to be sexually inactive in their early 20s as the previous generation.

They are also doing it with fewer partners.

As a Dad  of two young ladies in this generational cadre, I should be gratified that they are less likely to hop in bed with any guy with an eager organ. But still, there is a little sadness to this guy:

Noah Patterson, 18, likes to sit in front of several screens simultaneously: a work project, a YouTube clip, a video game. To shut it all down for a date or even a one-night stand seems like a waste. “For an average date, you’re going to spend at least two hours, and in that two hours I won’t be doing something I enjoy,” he said.

Dang. I’d hate to cut into my screen time just for another roll in the hay!

It may be the cut-throat competition of the current economic climate that has made millennials more sex adverse, like the young non-stud quoted below:

He has never had sex, although he likes porn. “I’d rather be watching YouTube videos and making money.” Sex, he said, is “not going to be something people ask you for on your résumé.”

That attitude does not surprise Helen Fisher, a biological anthropologist at Rutgers University and chief scientific adviser to the dating site Match.com.

“It’s a highly motivated, ambitious generation,” she said. “A lot of them are afraid that they’ll get into something they can’t get out of and they won’t be able to get back to their desk and keep studying.”

It could be us Boomers had it too easy. We thought we could have careers, lots of sex and kids too! And we did! We had it all, and the tides of the economy were definitely on our side. But I gotta tell you, I’d much rather have sex with Mistress than more screen time, more on-line porn, or another craft IPA to wash down my kale salad.

Re-Run Season

Mistress and slave continue to enjoy the sun and seclusion of our SW hideaway, trying our best to fend off work tasks to make room for bracing morning sex, strenuous bike rides and lazy late afternoon naps when the late afternoon "monsoon" clouds gather for a cooling momentary downpour.

But today's entry arises from a task I undertook over the weekend to find some photos of my recently deceased mother. What surprised me as I scrolled through what are probably several thousands of photos accumulated over the last 8 years on my computer was how many photos in there feature semi-risque shots of Mistress. Many of those have been posted here over the years. Others were "outtakes", or maybe shots taken for slave's lovers and texted to them by me as a little visual aphrodisiac.   Some of the shots are somewhat repetitive. Example:  How many different ways are there to capture Mistress while sunbathing nude?


But as I go back further in the chronolgy, I have to say I kind of miss the days when you could catch Mistress in stockings, about to wield her riding crop on her slave based on some trumped up charge:



I was also reminded about how one's knees feel in high altitude skree  when groveling to serve Mistress's clean shaven folds at 13,000 feet:



I also realized that I've been negligent in exercising my switch day privileges as in days of yore:



And also thought about a trip to the local hot springs before we head back on Saturday to River City:



Hope you didn't mind this trip down memory lane. After all, isn't summer still re-run season?