The election was over.
Mistress had no "extracurricular" activities scheduled.
"Maybe a breather is in order, Slave."
Our cute Co-Ed was home for the weekend, purportedly to catch the Pussycats game today against the reigning Super Bowl champs, but, more likely, just to hang out in her bedroom with her cats and catch her breath too.
There was your leisurely wake-up sex. Particularly nice, since Slave had been shut down the day before.
Then, after I spent time with my cute grandkids, and Mistress and our daughter had some "chick time" together, we hooked up again in the Executive Suite for a nap and some more sex. Mistress seemed to enjoy the opportunity to ride her cock. It may not be "perfect", but it seems to get the job done.
Last night, we just stayed home, with Slave watching his alma mater do a workman like job against Boston College to take the team to 10-0 and keep them in the "national title " conversation for another week.
I'm sure Jay over at All Mine was a little disappointed. But the up-side for him is that he can now take it out on Suzanne's lovely ass. Our bet calls for her to absord some strokes from a wooden spoon for each point differential. The score was 21-6, so you do the math, dear readers. I think she's probably happy that the Irish had a couple of turn-overs which prevented them from running up the score!
Through the day, did monitor the ongoing revelations about General P. and his "biographer." It seems that the whole thing unraveled over threatening emails she sent to a yet to be named third party (a woman who reportedly is not a government employee), who asked the FBI to investigate this electronic "harassment". Those nasty-grams, presumably motivated by jealousy, may or may not have been from the General's g-mail account, but, in any event, led the FBI to some apparently smutty and certainly embarrassing emails between the General and his sometimes running companion.
Mistress raised an eyebrow when I reported this.
"She sounds like the crazy lady astronaut, driving across the country in diapers to ambush her married astronaut boyfriend's other girlfriend at the Orlando airport."
Oh yeah. What was her name? Another trivia question from the scandal machine.
What's the big deal about the CIA Director's private g-mail account, I had to ask myself. Well, apparently the intelligence community frowns on the prospect that someone with the highest security clearance might be sloppy with his email passwords, even for a private account. Chinese hackers are always on the prowl for tidbits.
But the best story of the day was this one, that goes over some territory we covered here yesterday about how we seem so much more judgmental about the sexual pecadillos of our poo-bahs now than in the past. Certainly its a whole lot easier to get caught when you leave electronic footprints. And with a virulent "alternative" media ready to pounce on any wiff of scandal, the "honor among thieves" bond between the traditional press and the exalted that protected the likes of FDR, Ike and JFK has broken down.
If the Times doesn't run a story, then Gawker surely will, so WTF. Let it rip.
What was nice about the Times story is that it tossed in a little more historic detail that even Slave had missed, going back to the indiscretions of Alexander Hamilton, who apparently issued the first "I showed poor judgment" statement in the young Republic's history:
Harding made illicit love in an Oval Office coat closet. As a senator
from Texas, Lyndon Johnson commandeered a room in the Capitol for his
meetings with women, said the presidential historian Robert Dallek. As
president, he said, Mr. Johnson installed a buzzer to alert him when his
wife, Lady Bird, threatened to interrupt one of his conquests.
Mrs. Coolidge was widely rumored to have running liaisons with Secret Service agents.
President Bill Clinton, of course, goes without saying.
Curiously, many scandals burst open in part because powerful men usually are rotten at picking mistresses.
Alexander Hamilton as secretary of the treasury began an affair with
Maria Reynolds, who had pleaded for his help in fleeing an abusive
husband. Hamilton went to her apartment to give her $30, but after being
led to her bedroom, “it was quickly apparent that other than pecuniary
compensation would be acceptable,” he later wrote.
Mrs. Reynolds was blackmailing him, and her husband extracted $1,000 by
threatening to expose the affair. It eventually became public anyway,
and Hamilton expressed bitter regret. It was, he wrote, “morally
impossible I should have been foolish as well as depraved” for what he
called “such insignificant ends.”
Mrs. Coolidge and the Secret Service? Now that would make for an interesting Masterpiece Theatre series.
But you have to wonder: if Alexander Hamilton had simply said "it's none of your damned business", would the course of American history have been changed?
