On The 7th Day, Mistress Rested....

Mistress and slave had a long travel day Saturday, complicated by the typical airline snafus that sent us to Detroit, then SLC before settling us down here our SW hideaway. Mistress crashed as soon as we arrived, still a little worn from her Thursday night cock-palooza with JJ her Alpha lover .

Sunday was set aside for just about nothing. Of course there was some wake up sex, with Mistress enjoying a reunion with the Hitachi parked in our dresser drawer here, along with her slave's less demanding cock.  After a bike ride, it was breakfast and them leisure on the patio.

"I think I'm still tender down there, slave and still catching up on lost sleep."

Soon she had parked her kindle and was rolling over for some supplemental Z's.  It was multi-tasking, as she was also working on those re-emerged tan lines.  Here lush curves were too tempting for me. I snapped this photo, and then texted it to her dominant lover:



slave: Still recovering,

JJ: Mmmm.  tasty!  Any local cock to keep stretching my slut?

slave: Not yet. She may have to settle for me for the time being.

Of course, I haven't let the cat out of the bag to JJ re: the suggestion that our Western Correspondent and his wife might "stop by" for some double domme-ing. But that might serve JJ's interest of keeping Mistress in better and more expansive shape for their next get together. He'll be the first to know of the WC's speculation about a trip south comes true.

The rest of the day went just as restfully for poor, tuckered out Mistress.  More sunning. Then a late afternoon nap as the "monsoon" clouds gathered for a sunset storm.  As a chicken roasted in the over we assembled on our front patio, watching the lightning flash from the distant mountains to the west, across the Rio Grande gorge.  It was then that Mistress gave her slave a slight, but well deserved  rebuke.

"You didn't offer to worship, slave....."

"Oops. I guess I got too busy after our nap, Mistress." (Someone had to put that chicken in the oven!)

But I was prepare to remedy my negligence.

"How about right here, Mistress."

She was already stretched out on the love seat on our front porch, in a colorful blue sun dress that barely covered her clean shaven folds. No undies, of course. What's the point of undies on a lazy Sunday?

"Here, slave?"

True, there was an occasional car driving by.  But with a fence and our distance from the highway, what were the odds that anyone would notice a little pre-sunset oral pleasuring?

Mistress hiked up her robe a tad, spread her legs, and slave got to work.  It wasn't long before Mistress's hips bucked and she uttered a little moan of delight in response to my practiced ministrations.

"Good job, slave."

It's always nice to get a pat on the back for a job well done.