Looking for (kinky) America....

Mistress and slave are on the road, passing through the flatlands of Kansas, on the way to our SW hideaway. Our daily wake up sex came in the pre-dawn hours.

Last night we came to ground in Abilene, home of Dwight Eisenbower, in  a classic "no tell Motel", reserved via Travelocity. The friendly clerk handed me a key without even asking for an ID or credit card.  My guess is cash would have worked too.

Later we went to dinner at a joint we had been introduced to by a local policeman on a prior trip,  Mr. K's Farmhouse,  had been a favorite of the former President, the type of straight shooter who might have had an affair with his WWII WAC driver, but would never have paid off a porn-star or bragged about "grabbing her by the pussy".

One feature of this place is the collection of paddles.  Tradition is that when you come to celebrate your birthday, your waitress will give you at least one stroke after the staff sings you "happy birthday". We actually saw this little ritual, involving a pre-teen boy who collected a few strokes.

So I had to ask our charming 20's something waitress sporting an "I Like Ike" button,  "So if I told you it was my wife's birthday, you'd give her a swat?"

"Sure.  But only if she said it was OK."

Mistress blushed at the thought.

I guess I was fortunate that she didn't remember that we had just celebrated my birthday.