Day at the Hot Springs

 Mistress and her devoted slave spent the day yesterday at a nearby hot springs resort, perched beneath a ridge once populated by hundreds of native people, who have only left behind thousands of shards of their colorful pottery.

It seems Mistress will never outgrow her desire to bask in the sun, something her Mediterranean complexion accepts with tolerance.  Me, not so much.  But I am happy to indulge her desires in this and so many other ways.

The hot springs excludes kids, but always has a robust crowd of mostly middle age to older customers, many covered in exotic tattoos.  I had to smile as a few heavily inked guys in the their 30's and 40's wandered past Mistress, their eyes unsubtly lingering on Mistress's delicious legs and bottom.  Not bad for someone getting closer to her Medicare years! 

It reminded me of a story Mistress told me from a trip to the Springs last summer, with her Mom (the Dowager Domme) and her sister.  They spent the night in a cozy cottage, and She got up early for some lap swimming. At pool side she was chatted up by a younger man - cute she reported - who seemed interested in learning more about her "situation".  Sparks were beginning to fly, she said. Then . . . her mother and sister arrived, impatient, wanting to get their breakfast.  Sadly, contact info was not exchanged and she never spotted him there before they departed.

But at least she was willing to explore.