Slave's been visiting my mid-30's daughter in the Big Apple these last 48 hours. It's been good to see her and my earnest son-in-law, and to enjoy some theatre with her. And yet.....I'm longing to return to boring old River City to rejoin Mistress.
She's been passing the time there with friends, and, last night, the Dowager Domme (her mother). And while she's still justifiably pissed with me, she's been lenient as well.
"You don't have to wear the cage when you're visiting your daughter, slave. But no touching!"
"No problem, Mistress. I am replenishing my natural juices and awaiting my chance to have reunion sex with you....."
"If you're lucky....."
"Understood, Mistress."
"But I do want you in the cage when you get home....."
"Yes, Mistress....."
On the other hand, she has not been completely orgasm free in my absence.
First, she reported some flirting with some local artists at a gallery opening on Friday night.
"I think they wanted me slave, but I was with a friend, and not quite ready for that sort of thing."
But Saturday morning?
"I used the Magic Wand, slave..... I was due......"
"What were you thinking about, Mistress?
"Not you, slave.... actually some woman on woman action......"
Hmmm..... there's a twist. Hopefully she's not giving ip on cocks alltogher.
I may not get out of that cage tonight after all.
Showing posts with label Hitachi Magic Wand. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Hitachi Magic Wand. Show all posts
Sunday, April 15, 2018
Monday, August 7, 2017
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.
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.
Monday, April 3, 2017
Cuckold Interruptus
Mistress and slave are still "entertaining" our youngest daughter, who is beginning to growse about missing Belgian beer and her EuroTrash pals back on the Continent. She claims she doesn't sleep well out here in the land of open skies and dark, quiet nights.
"It's too quiet."
The upside is that when we are not out skiing or eating out, she pretty much holes up in her room, leaving her boring, decadently American parents to their own devices. That left us plenty of space for some robust Sunday morning sex. Slave pulled out Mistress's favorite power tool, which induced a rather dramatic cum before I was allowed to finish the job with the deployment of Mistress's work-a-day cock.
After skiing I even got in a little worship after our late afternoon nap, assuring Mistress with some double pleasure for the day. Then there three of us were off to a local road house out on the Mesa where it was "two stepping night". But for our daughter the key was designer Tacos and locally brewed ales that were the main attraction.
It was a surprisingly large crowd of 40-50 somethings dancing to the tunes of a band from down the highway in Santa Fe that did the whole "Western Swing" thing. Mistress and slave even danced to one waltz, no doubt embarrassing our Domme in training.
As we sipped our second drinks of the night, the fun began. First, a tall 50-ish gentlemen with sandy gray hair, in a flannel shirt and jeans ambled over from the bar and asked Mistress to take a twirl on the dance floor. Our daughter's eyes bugged out a tad, and slave smiled slyly. Poor Mistress. This fellow was clearly an appealing guy, just looking for a chance at taking the hottest babe in the room in his arms for 5 minutes or so. And if our daughter wasn't there, well, Mistress likely would have taken up his offer, if only to give her cuckolded hubby a little thrill and provide some blog fodder.
But with our daughter there?
"Sorry", she said, blushing a bit. "We're just hanging out here tonight....."
He took the news like a gentleman, and ambled back over to the bar, to re-join his "wingman", a guy in a cowboy hat supping a beer and following developments with interest. The two mumbled to each other after handsome guy was shot down by Mistress.
As the clock approached nine, the crowd began to thin. And our daughter, who had now been fed and gone through a couple of snifters of the house Ale, was getting fidgety. As in "can we go now?"
I was enjoying the fiddle player, and a scrawny lead guitarist in a cowboy hat and tie dyed electric blue pants that somehow matched his plaid blue shirt. But I wasn't going to hold up the show.
At that point another guy strode bravely over to our table. He had been standing next to the sound board for the last 30 minutes or so, and was oddly dressed in a dark suit and tie, with a full beard. But for his choice of costumes, he bore an uncanny resemblance to "Captain Obvious" from this dreadful TV ads. And yet, he was also an accomplished two-stepper, as shown by his stylings on the floor with another lady who had recently gone off into the night with some friends.
Sadly, after he enquired about Mistress's availability to join him on the dance floor, she shot him down too, making a similar excuse.
So while it's nice to have our daughter drop by for her extended stay, it's clearly cramping Mistress's style.
Only 4 more days!
"It's too quiet."
The upside is that when we are not out skiing or eating out, she pretty much holes up in her room, leaving her boring, decadently American parents to their own devices. That left us plenty of space for some robust Sunday morning sex. Slave pulled out Mistress's favorite power tool, which induced a rather dramatic cum before I was allowed to finish the job with the deployment of Mistress's work-a-day cock.After skiing I even got in a little worship after our late afternoon nap, assuring Mistress with some double pleasure for the day. Then there three of us were off to a local road house out on the Mesa where it was "two stepping night". But for our daughter the key was designer Tacos and locally brewed ales that were the main attraction.
It was a surprisingly large crowd of 40-50 somethings dancing to the tunes of a band from down the highway in Santa Fe that did the whole "Western Swing" thing. Mistress and slave even danced to one waltz, no doubt embarrassing our Domme in training.
As we sipped our second drinks of the night, the fun began. First, a tall 50-ish gentlemen with sandy gray hair, in a flannel shirt and jeans ambled over from the bar and asked Mistress to take a twirl on the dance floor. Our daughter's eyes bugged out a tad, and slave smiled slyly. Poor Mistress. This fellow was clearly an appealing guy, just looking for a chance at taking the hottest babe in the room in his arms for 5 minutes or so. And if our daughter wasn't there, well, Mistress likely would have taken up his offer, if only to give her cuckolded hubby a little thrill and provide some blog fodder.
But with our daughter there?
"Sorry", she said, blushing a bit. "We're just hanging out here tonight....."
He took the news like a gentleman, and ambled back over to the bar, to re-join his "wingman", a guy in a cowboy hat supping a beer and following developments with interest. The two mumbled to each other after handsome guy was shot down by Mistress.
As the clock approached nine, the crowd began to thin. And our daughter, who had now been fed and gone through a couple of snifters of the house Ale, was getting fidgety. As in "can we go now?"
I was enjoying the fiddle player, and a scrawny lead guitarist in a cowboy hat and tie dyed electric blue pants that somehow matched his plaid blue shirt. But I wasn't going to hold up the show.
At that point another guy strode bravely over to our table. He had been standing next to the sound board for the last 30 minutes or so, and was oddly dressed in a dark suit and tie, with a full beard. But for his choice of costumes, he bore an uncanny resemblance to "Captain Obvious" from this dreadful TV ads. And yet, he was also an accomplished two-stepper, as shown by his stylings on the floor with another lady who had recently gone off into the night with some friends.Sadly, after he enquired about Mistress's availability to join him on the dance floor, she shot him down too, making a similar excuse.
So while it's nice to have our daughter drop by for her extended stay, it's clearly cramping Mistress's style.
Only 4 more days!
Sunday, January 8, 2017
The Dowager Domme Strikes Back
Mistress and slave have been quietly enjoying our extended getaway here in the High Desert. A big snow storm swept through on Thursday night and Friday morning. We were too lazy to fight the crowds and slippery roads on a "powder day". Instead, we hunkered down at home on Friday, walking in the snow, lazing in bed, and enjoying the privacy of our hideaway.
But our extended absence has her mother, "The Dowager Domme" in a manipulative funk.
Like a good daughter, Mistress called her on Saturday afternoon, after we returned from the ski mountain (we couldn't justify another lazy day!). After the call I heard the fall out:
"It clear she's pissed we are gone for so long, slave....all her friends are sick or dying, it could happen to us (i.e. her) anytime....a friend got shot in an unsafe neighborhood, she goes to work everyday in an unsafe neighborhood, we may all be healthy for now but that just means our luck will change sooner rather than later.... blah, blah, blah....."
I can see her now, sitting on her throne, pissed that I've stolen her little girl away to a remote time zone where she can't dote on her mommy.
Why can't she take it out on her husband, Mistress's step father, rather than put her daughter on such a passive aggressive guilt trip?
"You spend more time with her than your sister does, Mistress, even though we go away from time to time. Why doesn't she take it out on her?"
"She claims [Molly's sister, who lives out of town] calls her multiple times a day....whereas I only call her once a week or so...."
"Do you believe that?"
"My sister says it isn't so...."
We had dinner last night with some friends who live in Oklahoma, and travel here often. Mistress was recounting these stories of Motherly manipulation. Our dinner companions shared some of their own.
"When my mother died I had to clean out her house.... I found two vibrators, a couple of pistols and an assault rifle", Jane recounted.
"The guns were loaded. I had to call for help from the Sheriff's office to make sure they were unloaded and safe", her husband added.
Well I guess it could be worse. The Dowager Domme could start packing heat. Although maybe it wouldn't hurt to buy her an Hitachi (if she doesn't have one already) to atone for Mistress's sins.
But our extended absence has her mother, "The Dowager Domme" in a manipulative funk.
Like a good daughter, Mistress called her on Saturday afternoon, after we returned from the ski mountain (we couldn't justify another lazy day!). After the call I heard the fall out:
"It clear she's pissed we are gone for so long, slave....all her friends are sick or dying, it could happen to us (i.e. her) anytime....a friend got shot in an unsafe neighborhood, she goes to work everyday in an unsafe neighborhood, we may all be healthy for now but that just means our luck will change sooner rather than later.... blah, blah, blah....."
I can see her now, sitting on her throne, pissed that I've stolen her little girl away to a remote time zone where she can't dote on her mommy. Why can't she take it out on her husband, Mistress's step father, rather than put her daughter on such a passive aggressive guilt trip?
"You spend more time with her than your sister does, Mistress, even though we go away from time to time. Why doesn't she take it out on her?"
"She claims [Molly's sister, who lives out of town] calls her multiple times a day....whereas I only call her once a week or so...."
"Do you believe that?"
"My sister says it isn't so...."
We had dinner last night with some friends who live in Oklahoma, and travel here often. Mistress was recounting these stories of Motherly manipulation. Our dinner companions shared some of their own.
"When my mother died I had to clean out her house.... I found two vibrators, a couple of pistols and an assault rifle", Jane recounted.
"The guns were loaded. I had to call for help from the Sheriff's office to make sure they were unloaded and safe", her husband added.
Well I guess it could be worse. The Dowager Domme could start packing heat. Although maybe it wouldn't hurt to buy her an Hitachi (if she doesn't have one already) to atone for Mistress's sins.
Monday, October 24, 2016
2 Million Page Viewers Can't Be Wrong!
Mistress
and slave were a little too busy over the weekend. Her sister was in town, so
there was a little too much socializing and not enough down time. Of course, we
did squeeze in some morning sex both Saturday and Sunday. I broke out
Mistress’s power tool yesterday morning to add a little potency to her wake-up
orgasm, which paved the way for slave to take his own pleasure in a most
gratifying way.
Then
it was a long bike ride before taking Mistress’s sister and her husband to the
Pussycats game.
And
while Mistress may not have exceeded her cum quota over the weekend, after all that hard core fucking with Jay
Friday morning, there is an encore scheduled tonight. Jay’s son is out of town this week, which opens up his
window of availability for a change.
Mistress filled me in on the addition to her calendar yesterday
afternoon.
“Jay
and I are getting together tomorrow night slave…..”
“Will
you be spending the night, Mistress….”
“I
think I will, slave….”
There
was some discussion about whether I would be in the cage for her sleepover. The
decision was that I would be caged unless I rode my bike to work in the
morning. The threat of Chastity as an incentive to exercise is a clever way to
keep slave in shape, isn’t it?
In
addition to Mistress’s night out, the big news today is the news that UCTMW
went over the 2,000,000 page views threshold. It’s an arbitrary mile stone for
a frivolous enterprise like this one.
While we have never been listed on the “Best Sex Blog” cite, or profiled
in the New York Times as sex blog pioneers, we have also outlasted a lot of our
colleagues and competitors. I mean, look what happened to Buzz Feed! Having started this about 8 years ago,
we keep on plugging, and have a world wide “following” who likely get off more
on the occasional images of Mistress’s lush bodies than slave’s snarky
prose. Example: over the last week
we had page views from the following countries, and more:
United States
2928
Canada
368
United Kingdom
337
Germany
174
Poland
98
Spain
87
Australia
80
Singapore
78
France
76
Netherlands
75
Are
some folks in Poland and Singapore who read UCTMW to improve their facility
with English? Or is it just for
the pictures?
So
what keeps us going? Although we
love the comments and interactions with some of our regulars, I really write
this blog as a semi-daily amuse bouche for Mistress, to accompany our wake-up
worship sessions. As long as she is amused, Slave will likely keep on blogging.
Monday, October 17, 2016
What Losing Streak?
It was a relatively rare activity free weekend at home for Mistress and slave, after what seems like a lot of travel so far this fall, with more to come.
And while Slave's football teams both collapsed in the 2nd halves this weekend, maybe their lack of success was a counter-indicator of what was in store for slave in the sack.
I definitely "scored", both on defense and offense.
Saturday started as normal, with some gratifying wake up sex, and a bike ride. Then slave was off for some time with my cute grandkids. We both ended up back in the sack by late afternoon. But after our nap, Mistress was definitely feisty.
"Get out my supplies slave....."
I retrieved her strap on, the faux cock and lubricant for her use.
"What about the riding crop, slave?"
Hmmmm..... how had I forgotten that? In fact she found it in the closet herself, and required slave to assume the position that made my aging ass available for her use, and abuse.
"I'm not sure what this punishment is for slave....maybe just a deterrant for future bad behavior?"
She lit into my bottom with about 10 robust strokes that had me squiriming and whining by the time she was done.
"Aww, poor slave....I think you'll survive...."
No doubt, my bottom was red and tender, but hardly harmed. And it got my submissive juices flowing for what came next.
Mistress lubed up her "tool" and went to work, sliding onto the bed behind my prone body and (with a little help from me) bringing her tool to bear on her slave's rear entrance.
She was soon pumping into me, slowly but surely building to her own cum, collapsing onto me, then returning to a slow churning rythmn that seemed to delivery another follow up orgasm before she came to rest on top of her well pegged slave.
When she caught her breath, she pulled out, slid out of her harness and gave her slave direction to insert my aneros. Then it was my turn to do the plunging until we were both sweaty and satisfied.
I returned the favor Sunday morning by deploying Mistress's favorite power tool to give her a nice powerful cum that preceded more conventional love making.
So with all that sexual action, I can simply ignore the pitiful seasons my alma mater and the Pussycats are putting together, and look forward to ski season!
And while Slave's football teams both collapsed in the 2nd halves this weekend, maybe their lack of success was a counter-indicator of what was in store for slave in the sack.
I definitely "scored", both on defense and offense.
Saturday started as normal, with some gratifying wake up sex, and a bike ride. Then slave was off for some time with my cute grandkids. We both ended up back in the sack by late afternoon. But after our nap, Mistress was definitely feisty.
"Get out my supplies slave....."
I retrieved her strap on, the faux cock and lubricant for her use.
"What about the riding crop, slave?"
Hmmmm..... how had I forgotten that? In fact she found it in the closet herself, and required slave to assume the position that made my aging ass available for her use, and abuse.
"I'm not sure what this punishment is for slave....maybe just a deterrant for future bad behavior?"
She lit into my bottom with about 10 robust strokes that had me squiriming and whining by the time she was done.
"Aww, poor slave....I think you'll survive...."
No doubt, my bottom was red and tender, but hardly harmed. And it got my submissive juices flowing for what came next.
Mistress lubed up her "tool" and went to work, sliding onto the bed behind my prone body and (with a little help from me) bringing her tool to bear on her slave's rear entrance.
She was soon pumping into me, slowly but surely building to her own cum, collapsing onto me, then returning to a slow churning rythmn that seemed to delivery another follow up orgasm before she came to rest on top of her well pegged slave.
When she caught her breath, she pulled out, slid out of her harness and gave her slave direction to insert my aneros. Then it was my turn to do the plunging until we were both sweaty and satisfied.
I returned the favor Sunday morning by deploying Mistress's favorite power tool to give her a nice powerful cum that preceded more conventional love making.
So with all that sexual action, I can simply ignore the pitiful seasons my alma mater and the Pussycats are putting together, and look forward to ski season!
Sunday, September 18, 2016
Final Daze
Mistress and slave are in mourning.
It's our last day at our SW hideway until ski season arrives in December. And worst of all, the weather here remains glorious. Why leave cloudless skies and 78 degree temperatures for a long drive back to the drudgery of River City?
We started our last day with the deployment of Mistress's favorite power tool, as a prelude to more conventional fucking.
Then there was a brisk ride on our bikes before we squirreled them away inside, out of the elements for the winter season.
After our ride, Mistress whipped up some scrambled eggs, which she enjoyed with locally crafted muffins and peach jam.
Then we adjourned to our sun drenched patio, still waiting for a cloud to pick up.
Slave has worked his way through the NY Times, listening to the Pussycats battle fruitlessly (so far) against the dreaded Stillers. Mistress was taking one last chance to eliminate those pesky tan lines.
As the third quarter came to an end, my team was still 8 points behind, and I was looking for the sort of superstition based Karma that might give the Pussycats a little extra juice for another come from behind victory. What was missing? A lucky hat? A team t-shirt?
Then it occurred to me -- last week I deployed Mistress's favorite power tool to give Mistress a bonus cum at half time. The Pussycats then came from behind to beat the Jets. Was it too late? As the third quarter would down in the rain in Pittsburgh, slave retrieved the hitachi from our bedroom drawer, hooked it to the extension cord on our porch and went to work.
Mistress seemed pleased, but a little impatient.
"I thought you'd forgotten, slave....."
While it seemed unlikely that the Pussycats will pick up the good luck "vibe" from so far away, at least Mistress seemed happy with the extra afternoon orgasm.
It's our last day at our SW hideway until ski season arrives in December. And worst of all, the weather here remains glorious. Why leave cloudless skies and 78 degree temperatures for a long drive back to the drudgery of River City?
We started our last day with the deployment of Mistress's favorite power tool, as a prelude to more conventional fucking.Then there was a brisk ride on our bikes before we squirreled them away inside, out of the elements for the winter season.
After our ride, Mistress whipped up some scrambled eggs, which she enjoyed with locally crafted muffins and peach jam.
Then we adjourned to our sun drenched patio, still waiting for a cloud to pick up.
Slave has worked his way through the NY Times, listening to the Pussycats battle fruitlessly (so far) against the dreaded Stillers. Mistress was taking one last chance to eliminate those pesky tan lines.
As the third quarter came to an end, my team was still 8 points behind, and I was looking for the sort of superstition based Karma that might give the Pussycats a little extra juice for another come from behind victory. What was missing? A lucky hat? A team t-shirt?
Then it occurred to me -- last week I deployed Mistress's favorite power tool to give Mistress a bonus cum at half time. The Pussycats then came from behind to beat the Jets. Was it too late? As the third quarter would down in the rain in Pittsburgh, slave retrieved the hitachi from our bedroom drawer, hooked it to the extension cord on our porch and went to work.
Mistress seemed pleased, but a little impatient.
"I thought you'd forgotten, slave....."
While it seemed unlikely that the Pussycats will pick up the good luck "vibe" from so far away, at least Mistress seemed happy with the extra afternoon orgasm.
Monday, July 25, 2016
What You've Been Waiting For.....
We had a "two a day" Saturday.... some wake-up sex before our trip to the local farmer's market. And then some late afternoon sex following a bike ride and a much needed nap.
Sunday morning, slave deployed Mistress's favorite power tool. And I did have one question as Mistress squirmed beneath it's relentless power of "persuasion".
"So Mistress, does Jay use it differently than I do?"
It seemed a little difficult for Mistress to focus on her response, since that Hitachi tends to make her squirm and cum so quickly and efficiently. She whimpered out something like "It's pretty much the same way you use it, Slave...,", morfing quickly into "Can I please cum now?"
Who was I to say "No."
But she did have a confession to make in early afternoon, as she relaxed in the sun with her kindle.
"My body's feeling the effects of all that sex this week, slave....I don't think I can do it again this afternoon."
It was a rare admission by Mistress. Clearly cuckold week had taken it's toll. Despite her typically voracious sexual appetite she was saying "no mas." Throwing in the towel. If Jay were here, I'd give him a high five.
But I have a feeling she will have rebounded by this morning. At least I hope she will.
Now, as a special gift to our readers, what you all like the most about our trips to our hideaway: shots of Mistress in sun-basking mode:
Enjoy!
Monday, May 23, 2016
Evening On the Town
Mistress and slave have been homebodies of late. We enjoy our own company and there have not been many excuses for us to hang out with other folks.
But on Saturday night we were out in our rebounding downtown, Mistress all dressed up in a sexy and elegant black dress, and slave in a dark suit. A male couple Mistress works with were celebrating their first wddinganniversary. They had been married in NYC about a year ago, only weeks before the Supreme Court decided our more backward state also had to allow same sex marriages. As a practical matter, this was the fancy wedding reception that had skipped a year ago.
The festive event was held at one of those stuffy old gentlemen's clubs which in the last century was restricted to Ivy League grads and their lunch and dinner guests. On the wall was "the Big Guy" William Howard Taft, glowering down on the proceedings. One can imagine what his reaction might have been to two gentlemen celebrating their mutual vows in his old haunt. Then again, he would have been down for the all-you-can-eat beef tenderloin and potatoes.
At the risk of sounding politically incorrect, let me just say this: gay guys throw the best parties!
Betwixt the martini bar and the wine bar and the raw bar and the charcuterie bar, Mistress and slave were certainly well fed and a little tipsy by the time the party ended with a champagne toast to the loving couple.
But for Mistress the best part was the macaroon bar. It's an addiction for her that slave has trouble relating to. But vive le difference!
As the party concluded, we decided to skip the official "after party" and trolled down the moonlit avenue to a tasteful piano bar run by a fellow who always gushes over Mistress when she graces his door. And of course he did that again on Saturday night, giving Mistress a tight hug when we found him at the bar.
As you might imagine, we slept in a little later on Sunday morning, and our wake-up sex was slow and leisurely. Mistress seemed grateful that I pulled out her favorite power tool for a double cum before she indulged me with the favor of her clean shaven folds.
But a new work week has dawned. Mistress has one of those way too early meetings this morning, so there will be no wake up sex. And slave can't ride to work because I have a "dress up" work day today.
"No bike, slave....you know what that means.... in your cage...."
Oops.
"Yes, Mistress."
I wonder if Mistress has been paying attention to Diane's crack down over at "A Married Sissy"?
But on Saturday night we were out in our rebounding downtown, Mistress all dressed up in a sexy and elegant black dress, and slave in a dark suit. A male couple Mistress works with were celebrating their first wddinganniversary. They had been married in NYC about a year ago, only weeks before the Supreme Court decided our more backward state also had to allow same sex marriages. As a practical matter, this was the fancy wedding reception that had skipped a year ago.The festive event was held at one of those stuffy old gentlemen's clubs which in the last century was restricted to Ivy League grads and their lunch and dinner guests. On the wall was "the Big Guy" William Howard Taft, glowering down on the proceedings. One can imagine what his reaction might have been to two gentlemen celebrating their mutual vows in his old haunt. Then again, he would have been down for the all-you-can-eat beef tenderloin and potatoes.
At the risk of sounding politically incorrect, let me just say this: gay guys throw the best parties!
Betwixt the martini bar and the wine bar and the raw bar and the charcuterie bar, Mistress and slave were certainly well fed and a little tipsy by the time the party ended with a champagne toast to the loving couple.
But for Mistress the best part was the macaroon bar. It's an addiction for her that slave has trouble relating to. But vive le difference!
As the party concluded, we decided to skip the official "after party" and trolled down the moonlit avenue to a tasteful piano bar run by a fellow who always gushes over Mistress when she graces his door. And of course he did that again on Saturday night, giving Mistress a tight hug when we found him at the bar.
As you might imagine, we slept in a little later on Sunday morning, and our wake-up sex was slow and leisurely. Mistress seemed grateful that I pulled out her favorite power tool for a double cum before she indulged me with the favor of her clean shaven folds.
But a new work week has dawned. Mistress has one of those way too early meetings this morning, so there will be no wake up sex. And slave can't ride to work because I have a "dress up" work day today.
"No bike, slave....you know what that means.... in your cage...."
Oops.
"Yes, Mistress."
I wonder if Mistress has been paying attention to Diane's crack down over at "A Married Sissy"?
Thursday, May 19, 2016
Gizmo of the Century
Reading Terri's "A Married Sissy" entry this morning I realized that I had missed the arrival of this year's "National Masturbation Month". That's not something slave thinks about much. I am so pampered by open access to Mistress's clean shaven folds that I rarely have the yearning for "self help". Instead, I follow the "no touch" rule, unless given specific authorization from Mistress.
But it seems timely to note something that Donna, our Senior correspondent passed along this week: Notice that Time magazine has listed the (formerly) Hitachi Magic Wand as one of its top ten most influential gizmos of all time - up there with the I-phone, Sony Walkman, and HP DeskJet printer. Here is a chunk of the press release from the current Magic Wand maker:
Time Magazine notes that fans and therapists
have “extolled the Wand’s virtues”, and that it appeared on Sex and the City in
2002. It also notes the Magic Wand’s enduring association in popular vernacular
with the company that invented it, Hitachi.
Anyone know where I can find one?
But it seems timely to note something that Donna, our Senior correspondent passed along this week: Notice that Time magazine has listed the (formerly) Hitachi Magic Wand as one of its top ten most influential gizmos of all time - up there with the I-phone, Sony Walkman, and HP DeskJet printer. Here is a chunk of the press release from the current Magic Wand maker:
Time Magazine notes that fans and therapists
have “extolled the Wand’s virtues”, and that it appeared on Sex and the City in
2002. It also notes the Magic Wand’s enduring association in popular vernacular
with the company that invented it, Hitachi.
The Magic Wand, previously the “Hitachi Magic
Wand”, became widely known after sex educators like Betty Dodson, Joni Blank
and Dell Williams recommended the massager to their clients, starting in the
1970s. Since then consumers have loved it for its power, quality and reliable
satisfaction. In 2015, the Magic Wand Original was joined on store shelves by
the Magic Wand Rechargeable, a cordless massager offering the freedom to enjoy
the wand’s pleasures almost anywhere, anytime.
“We are humbled that the Magic Wand has been
recognized in this way by Time Magazine,” says Shay Martin, Vice President of
Vibratex, Inc., exclusive importer of the Magic Wand since 2000. “Consumers,
therapists and reviewers have praised and recommended the Magic Wand for over
thirty years; still it is an honor to see the ‘Cadillac of vibrators’ on this
iconic one-time list by Time Magazine,” adds Martin.
Of course, the Hitachi has been at the top of Mistress's favorite gizmos for a long time too. It's a nice supplement for fun and games here at the UCTMW World HQ when she gets bored with my avid lips and tongue. And it would not surprise me if it gets whipped out from time to time when Slave is working late or away for business. I also know that her occasional side-dish Jay enjoys watching Mistress put on a little show for him with her favorite power tool. Apparently it is now a universally acknowledged go to tool for discerning women world wide - and for a few men too, based on Terri's candid disclosures about how Diane uses it while he remains confined to his cock cage.
I did a little research this morning for some illustrations and had not realized all of the accessories available for this classic gizmo. Check out this tumblr page if you are interested.hitachi magic wand original
Here is a photo of one woman's elaborate accessory collection:
Obviously, Slave needs to be helping Mistress add to her collection. I particularly liked this one, which would be nice to have around should we get back into our "switch day" ritual:
Monday, March 28, 2016
Easter on the Mountain
Unlike so many Easters past, our Easter here in the Sangre de Christo Mountains did not involve baskets and Easter egg hunts with our cute girls. Instead, it turned out to be a rare "adults only" Easter - with a fresh dusting of snow to smooth our way across the mountains.Of course, no "adults only" Easter would miss some "fucking like bunnies" as a substitute for watching the little ones discover the goodies in their Easter baskets. Our version involved the deployment of Mistress's favorite power tool as a good way to launch the fun in our sun dabbled bedroom with it's mountain views.
And while the daffodils are certainly blooming back in River City in our tiny little yard, here the cold nights have kept the blooms off the trees. The only real sign of spring in our yard here so far are the plump little prairie dogs that can be seem scurrying about conspiring to dig up our yard yet again. Argh!
So while skiing and the renewal of Easter may seem incongruent, it was certainly fun for Mistress and her slave to enjoy the sunny mountain trails before heading back down for some late afternoon sunning on our patio.
The only semi-downer on our day was my alma mater's unsurprising loss to the Tar Heels last night in the round of eight. I was fortunate that we had already scheduled an Easter dinner here with some friends, so pouring drinks and grilling some salmon forced me not to focus on the slow but relentless beat down of the Irish by the clearly superior team from NC.
Sometimes a Number 1 seed deserves the ranking. And over-achievers come back to ground.
But back here in the Mountains, we all know who the Number 1 seed is, don't we?
Monday, September 28, 2015
The Cuckolding Conundrum
Mistress and slave were delightedly surprised to learn that our back from college daughter was abandoning the nest over the weekend to go on a road trip with her boyfriend. She was gone Friday afternoon and not back until Sunday evening dinner time.
It gave us a chance for some more relaxed and somewhat louder sex on Saturday and Sunday morning. Yesterday slave broke out Mistress's favorite power tool for a little intro-cum, culminating in Mistress asking her slave for permission to cum.
Then Mistress treated her slave to some taunting oral attention to her work-a-day cock, making me to do the begging before I was allowed to fuck her. Toss in some robust cock-riding and it was a very hot and extended session in the UCTMW World HQ!
Saturday evening we went down the street to a local bar where a band slave has followed over the years was playing. It was a balmy early fall evening, and the band and the followers gathered were out on the patio. As slave ordered drinks at the bar Mistress stood behind me in the middle of the room, and my peripheral vision picked p some conversation between her and a guy in his 40's or so, about 6 foot.
Done at the bar, I handed Mistress her tequila on the rocks, and the guy faded into the crowd.
"Was he hitting on you, Mistress?"
"Kind of slave..... but I pointed to you and said my husband was getting me a drink...."
It got us talking about Mistress's on again off again efforts to find that perfect "side-dish".
Slave had been pretty busy all day Saturday visiting my aging Mother and an older daughter in the hospital.
"With that empty nest on Saturday, it would have been a perfect day for some cuckolding, slave...."
But alas, while Mistress and Jay have a solid connection, his own family duties have made it increasingly difficult to connect. And while Mistress is open to finding someone who is more accessible to fuel our mutual cuckolding fetish, it isn't easy.
"We've tried the whole on-line thing, Mistress.... AM, fetlife, collar-space.... but that has shown diminishing returns...."
"Lots of wackos, slave....."
And while some folks find side-dishes at work, Mistress is self-employed. She gets out to meet with clients, but that's probably not the best way to shop for extracurricular fun.
"I could probably get picked up places, slave.... but I'm not too comfortable with that...."
"Can't blame you, Mistress."
And while Mistress might easily find potential one-night stands at a local watering hole, that's not the thing she's into. Take into account that not many guys are "string-less" and don't get the whole cuckold dynamic, and the odds are definitely stacked against finding that right guy, are they?
Any thoughts on where Mistress should go shopping?
It gave us a chance for some more relaxed and somewhat louder sex on Saturday and Sunday morning. Yesterday slave broke out Mistress's favorite power tool for a little intro-cum, culminating in Mistress asking her slave for permission to cum.
Then Mistress treated her slave to some taunting oral attention to her work-a-day cock, making me to do the begging before I was allowed to fuck her. Toss in some robust cock-riding and it was a very hot and extended session in the UCTMW World HQ!
Saturday evening we went down the street to a local bar where a band slave has followed over the years was playing. It was a balmy early fall evening, and the band and the followers gathered were out on the patio. As slave ordered drinks at the bar Mistress stood behind me in the middle of the room, and my peripheral vision picked p some conversation between her and a guy in his 40's or so, about 6 foot.
Done at the bar, I handed Mistress her tequila on the rocks, and the guy faded into the crowd.
"Was he hitting on you, Mistress?"
"Kind of slave..... but I pointed to you and said my husband was getting me a drink...."
It got us talking about Mistress's on again off again efforts to find that perfect "side-dish".
Slave had been pretty busy all day Saturday visiting my aging Mother and an older daughter in the hospital.
"With that empty nest on Saturday, it would have been a perfect day for some cuckolding, slave...."
But alas, while Mistress and Jay have a solid connection, his own family duties have made it increasingly difficult to connect. And while Mistress is open to finding someone who is more accessible to fuel our mutual cuckolding fetish, it isn't easy.
"We've tried the whole on-line thing, Mistress.... AM, fetlife, collar-space.... but that has shown diminishing returns...."
"Lots of wackos, slave....."
And while some folks find side-dishes at work, Mistress is self-employed. She gets out to meet with clients, but that's probably not the best way to shop for extracurricular fun.
"I could probably get picked up places, slave.... but I'm not too comfortable with that...."
"Can't blame you, Mistress."
And while Mistress might easily find potential one-night stands at a local watering hole, that's not the thing she's into. Take into account that not many guys are "string-less" and don't get the whole cuckold dynamic, and the odds are definitely stacked against finding that right guy, are they?
Any thoughts on where Mistress should go shopping?
Monday, September 14, 2015
Eastbound
Mistress did get some special treatment yesterday morning for our last hideaway day. Slave deployed her favorite power tool much to her apparent delight. And she returned the favor by letting me have my twisted way with her after the machine induced tremors faded.
We spent a good chunk of the day biking though the badlands that bound CO and NM, where man, beast, and crumbling adobe structures live as one.
Then last night we enjoyed on last summer sunset at our little house in the high desert, moaning about our reluctance to head home.
But at least Mistress has a sleepover date planned with Jay for Thursday night.
ANd the Pussycats won on the road! Life can't be that bad in River City, can it?
Tuesday, September 8, 2015
Sex Caddy
As anticipated, Mistress and slave woke up rather stiff and sore following our 7 hour Sunday odyssey up and down the neighborhood mountain. And while we managed to work our way through our wake-up sex rituals, I think we would both admit it wasn't our best effort.
Sometimes you just have to enjoy the moment, and not try to set records or personal bests, right? At least I can testify that despite aching limbs and feet I "got her done".
We had decided to take Labor Day off - no exercise and no professional work - and we pretty much stuck to that path. But slave did do a little stuccoing on our low adobe wall separating our patio from the wilds beyond. Meanwhile Mistress was sunning herself au naturale, giving slave something to admire as I spread that sticky brown goo on sun bleached walls.
Admiring Mistress's glistening body from only a few feet away, I decided it made sense to provide a bonus cum to make amens form my less than focused efforts of the morning. Without Mistress noticing, I found her hitachi inside, hooked it up to the long extension cord we had been using to play the radio, and silently proceeded the the side of her chaise, proferring to her the little electric wand with the big white bulb at the end.
I was sort of like the aging but experienced professional golf caddy, who's job it it to anticipate his boss's next club choice even before the golfer realized what club he wanted for the next crucial shot. I figured Mistress, after all that sun worship, was ready for the sort of sexual interlude that only her favorite power tool could deliver.
Mistress reacted with a start to me standing there, hitachi in hand, pulling her eyes away from her kindle.
"I thought you could use this, Mistress....."
And although I had distracted her from her book, she didn't seem to mind in the least. But unlike the well trained caddy, I didn't hand her the "tool". Instead, with a nob from her, I applied it gently but firmly to those sun soaked clean shaven folds. Mistress spread her thighs just a tad, then embraced that big white bulb as I switched it on to the "low" setting.
Mistress closed her eyes, focusing on the insistent vibrations attacking her tender bits. Soon her hips were shifting in rhythm to the device, and only about 30 seconds later asked her slave for permission to cum. Who was I to forestall her pleasure?
Once Mistress seemed fully satisfied, she murmured in a way that seemed to say "enough", and slave turned off the device, putting it away for its next use.
I think I at least helped Mistress hit a birdie on that particular hole.
Sometimes you just have to enjoy the moment, and not try to set records or personal bests, right? At least I can testify that despite aching limbs and feet I "got her done".
We had decided to take Labor Day off - no exercise and no professional work - and we pretty much stuck to that path. But slave did do a little stuccoing on our low adobe wall separating our patio from the wilds beyond. Meanwhile Mistress was sunning herself au naturale, giving slave something to admire as I spread that sticky brown goo on sun bleached walls.Admiring Mistress's glistening body from only a few feet away, I decided it made sense to provide a bonus cum to make amens form my less than focused efforts of the morning. Without Mistress noticing, I found her hitachi inside, hooked it up to the long extension cord we had been using to play the radio, and silently proceeded the the side of her chaise, proferring to her the little electric wand with the big white bulb at the end.
I was sort of like the aging but experienced professional golf caddy, who's job it it to anticipate his boss's next club choice even before the golfer realized what club he wanted for the next crucial shot. I figured Mistress, after all that sun worship, was ready for the sort of sexual interlude that only her favorite power tool could deliver.
Mistress reacted with a start to me standing there, hitachi in hand, pulling her eyes away from her kindle.
"I thought you could use this, Mistress....."
And although I had distracted her from her book, she didn't seem to mind in the least. But unlike the well trained caddy, I didn't hand her the "tool". Instead, with a nob from her, I applied it gently but firmly to those sun soaked clean shaven folds. Mistress spread her thighs just a tad, then embraced that big white bulb as I switched it on to the "low" setting.
Mistress closed her eyes, focusing on the insistent vibrations attacking her tender bits. Soon her hips were shifting in rhythm to the device, and only about 30 seconds later asked her slave for permission to cum. Who was I to forestall her pleasure?
Once Mistress seemed fully satisfied, she murmured in a way that seemed to say "enough", and slave turned off the device, putting it away for its next use.
I think I at least helped Mistress hit a birdie on that particular hole.
Tuesday, May 12, 2015
Media in Praise of Slave's "Dad Bod" Paunch
Our readers will be happy to hear that Mistress and her devoted slave enjoyed a robust "switch day" on Sunday morning. Mistress found herself bound to our bed, her hands lovingly captured by our red leather cuffs, and stretched overhead.
Lying on her tummy, she could only "protest" as our brand new and shiny Hitachi was deployed betwixt her thighs. (Terri- in response to your question - it's the same old model with a glossier finish - only two speeds, and Mistress prefers the slower speed). It did not take long for her to beg for permission to cum, and slave, as usual, was very indulgent. Once the power tool was discarded, and Mistress calmed down a bit, I tossed on a bonus cum with my fingers before "taking my reward".
It was the sort of Sunday morning that may be hard to replicate in the weeks to come, as our girls re-infest their nest. Hopefully that will be only for a few months, or we may have to call Orkin!
But the real subject of today's blog is an article that popped up in the Washington Post yesterday, (I have a Dad Bod. Here's Why Women Love It) reporting that the latest internet mime is recognition that babes actually prefer the "dad bod" to the more traditional six pack ab, chiseled look that the advertisers have stereo-typed. The author attributes this change to women (at least in the developed world) discarding some of the evolutionary preferences for the more "macho" defenders of their tidy and secure cave:
Primordial women needed brutes who could slaughter wild beasts for food and stiff-arm competing tribes that wanted to kill their offspring. More recently, our great-grandmothers needed partners who could toil in factories, plow fields and protect the home from intruders.
But today, more people are working in offices instead of farms and factories. And women themselves are working — often more efficiently than their male colleagues. That independence means they can pay people to move their furniture and protect their homes, or do it themselves. A lot has been written about this deconstruction of gender roles and “the end of men.” But the truth is, women do still need men — they just don’t need the macho ones.
Instead, many women are looking for guys who have good careers, love kids, and offer a soft tummy to lay on after a long day of working harder than us — all things that dad bods promise. Tight torsos and thick biceps are too busy at the gym to own businesses and keep the kitchen clean. To put it another way, a dad bod isn’t attractive because of what it looks like, but because what it says.
And what is that, you ask?
A dad bod says I have a job, responsibilities and enough money to nod approvingly when someone says “guacamole is extra.”
A dad bod owns a suit, makes car payments on a fuel-efficient vehicle and applies tasteful amounts of cologne before heading out the door. Send him a YouTube compilation of puppies doing cute stuff and afterward he’ll happily discuss which cute stuff was his favorite cute stuff.
Make love to a dad bod and afterward a dad bod will make waffles for your belly.
Well, Slave doesn't make waffles.
Mistress has that whole "gluten-free" thing going on.
But I can whip up a nice risotto or gnocchi after a hard day at the office. And while I'm not completely gone to seed - I do ride that bike to work whenever I can - I have some generous padding for Mistress to lounge against when we watch "Mad Men" or "Homeland" on our comfy couch.
I might add that Jay, despite his talents as a golfer and a more athletic lover, has a "Dad Bod" too. SO I think Mistress clearly is in the thick of it when it comes to this new trend.
The one thing this guy is missing though: What about the women who prefer their Dad Bod's to wear a cock cage when they're out for the night with their lover?
Lying on her tummy, she could only "protest" as our brand new and shiny Hitachi was deployed betwixt her thighs. (Terri- in response to your question - it's the same old model with a glossier finish - only two speeds, and Mistress prefers the slower speed). It did not take long for her to beg for permission to cum, and slave, as usual, was very indulgent. Once the power tool was discarded, and Mistress calmed down a bit, I tossed on a bonus cum with my fingers before "taking my reward".
It was the sort of Sunday morning that may be hard to replicate in the weeks to come, as our girls re-infest their nest. Hopefully that will be only for a few months, or we may have to call Orkin!
But the real subject of today's blog is an article that popped up in the Washington Post yesterday, (I have a Dad Bod. Here's Why Women Love It) reporting that the latest internet mime is recognition that babes actually prefer the "dad bod" to the more traditional six pack ab, chiseled look that the advertisers have stereo-typed. The author attributes this change to women (at least in the developed world) discarding some of the evolutionary preferences for the more "macho" defenders of their tidy and secure cave:
Primordial women needed brutes who could slaughter wild beasts for food and stiff-arm competing tribes that wanted to kill their offspring. More recently, our great-grandmothers needed partners who could toil in factories, plow fields and protect the home from intruders.
But today, more people are working in offices instead of farms and factories. And women themselves are working — often more efficiently than their male colleagues. That independence means they can pay people to move their furniture and protect their homes, or do it themselves. A lot has been written about this deconstruction of gender roles and “the end of men.” But the truth is, women do still need men — they just don’t need the macho ones.
Instead, many women are looking for guys who have good careers, love kids, and offer a soft tummy to lay on after a long day of working harder than us — all things that dad bods promise. Tight torsos and thick biceps are too busy at the gym to own businesses and keep the kitchen clean. To put it another way, a dad bod isn’t attractive because of what it looks like, but because what it says.
And what is that, you ask?
A dad bod says I have a job, responsibilities and enough money to nod approvingly when someone says “guacamole is extra.”
A dad bod owns a suit, makes car payments on a fuel-efficient vehicle and applies tasteful amounts of cologne before heading out the door. Send him a YouTube compilation of puppies doing cute stuff and afterward he’ll happily discuss which cute stuff was his favorite cute stuff.
Make love to a dad bod and afterward a dad bod will make waffles for your belly.
Well, Slave doesn't make waffles.
Mistress has that whole "gluten-free" thing going on.
But I can whip up a nice risotto or gnocchi after a hard day at the office. And while I'm not completely gone to seed - I do ride that bike to work whenever I can - I have some generous padding for Mistress to lounge against when we watch "Mad Men" or "Homeland" on our comfy couch.
I might add that Jay, despite his talents as a golfer and a more athletic lover, has a "Dad Bod" too. SO I think Mistress clearly is in the thick of it when it comes to this new trend.
The one thing this guy is missing though: What about the women who prefer their Dad Bod's to wear a cock cage when they're out for the night with their lover?
Wednesday, May 6, 2015
The Case of the Missing Hitachi
Here at the UCTMW World HQ, Mistress was
diverted from her normal work day for a good chunk of the afternoon, even as
slave was ‘slaving away” at the office.
It was one of those "lunches" with her lover, Jay. By the time I got home, Mistress seemed quite satisfied.
“It was the typical, slave….Jay spent a
good deal of time lavishing me with his oral attention. Lot’s of cock riding
too.”
After I showered off the residue of a
bike ride home on a steamy spring day, She allowed me to feast on those well
utilized folds, giving me a taste of the creamy residue that Jay left behind. I
suspect she didn’t really need the cum that was the by product of my devotion,
but it couldn’t hurt right?
“Jay did ask if the new Hitachi has
arrived, Slave….”
“Got here today Mistress…. I’ll bring it
home tomorrow. Just in time for Mother’s Day…..”
Speaking of Hitachis, the WC has given us
a post responding to my request for more info on his suspicion that his teenage daughter pilfered the magic
wand he and his wife B have become so fond of:
Yes it is true our Hitachi started
disappearing a couple of years ago
It would come back and then disappear
again
Finally it just went away
So
I bought another one.......
Now apparently both ladies are happy
And if they are happy so am I.....
Got to keep the gals happy!!!
Well not to beat a dead horse
BUT
I am getting sick of the pot reporting
Nebraska and Oklahoma are suing Colorado
over pot
The fuckers want to take it away from us
So much for states rights GOP.....
The "supreme court"(lower case)
asked the justice department today to comment on the suit
We have had virtually no problems with
legalized pot
You almost never smell pot cause it
is illegal to smoke in public
And the peeps obey the law!!!
Plus most people are eating it in edibles
instead of smoking anyway....
The cops hate it cause they can't do the
civil confiscation of alleged drug property
For their own use
The private prison system hates it cause
they will lose profit making prisoners
But for all of us here
We say
What took so long?
I didn't use pot for 30 years cause it
was illegal
And
I have I had a career to protect
But I love the option to get high on
Friday night instead of a couple of beers
Pot is so much better for you than
cocktails or opium pain killers
Trust me on that one!
The
Broncos just drafted a pot smoker
And no one around here batted an eye
Cause it is just not an issue around here
Even the republicans here love it
Tax revenues are up
Incarnations are down
WTF America?
The drug war has been a
disaster!!!!!
And for the readers of Mick and Molly
The pot store I go to
Has incredibly hot women who shop
there !
No shit!
Hot coeds, hot moms, hot business women
And the WC loves to chat then up!!!
And they are very friendly too....
Believe me my friends
You should push for legalization in your
states too
Whether you want to imbibe or not
Time to end this silly probation once and
for all
The new pot head advocate
WC
Friday, May 1, 2015
The Messy Month of May
First our Senior Correspondent, Donna, emailed to remind me in a timely fashion that May is "Masturbation Month". Does Congress take time from it's busy vacation schedule to make this official every year? In any event, I'm hoping that Mistress new Hitachi arrives today so that she does not have grounds to punish me for the mechanical failure that could get her NMM off to an inauspicious start. Without her favorite power tool this weekend, she will definitely have some catching up to do.
As for Slave, I somehow doubt I will have any opportunity to celebrate NMM. After all, there would be no reason to breach the "no touch" rule. Mistress likes to me to save all those natural juices for herself.
Meanwhile, our Western Correspondent took some time off from his own abusive masturbation habits to comment on the blog yesterday. (Although I suppose he could be one of those legendary one hand typists). He noted that he and his wife are now on their 3rd Hitachi. One burned out, he says. And the second one was BORROWED BY HIS DAUGHTER!
As I recall it, the WC's daughter is still just a teen, right? Isn't she a little too young to require mechanical assistance? And if she does, it's hard to imagine her sharing her plans with her dad.
TM(fucking)I!
I'm hoping it was purely for the treatment of a sports injury, WC.
Let's hope that all our readers (except those of you under lock and key) have a (self)gratifying national masturbation month. Feel free to share in the comments section any special celebratory plans you've made.
Monday, April 27, 2015
Mechanical Failure Mars Mistress's Date Night
Slave continued his East Coast trip Sunday, moving from the rarified air of one of the nation's most elite Universities to the comparably meaner streets of the City of Brotherly Love. I'll be here for another day before finally heading home to the welcoming arms (and folds) of Mistress.
Fortunately, Mistress was able to amuse herself in my absence in the arms of her lover, Jay. She's a little nervous that one of my oldest friends and his wife saw her and Jay walking to dinner Saturday night. But I'm sure that any curiosity readily can be papered over. (She assures me they were not observed sucking face, or worse on the sidewalk).
She did mention that by Sunday morning she was feeling like the proverbial filly that was "rode hard and put away wet".
"I'm exhausted Slave... there was sex before dinner.... then he woke me up in the middle of the night for more sex.... then there was sex this morning...."
Sounds as if Jay definitely rose to the occasion in his role of filling in during my absence. When you're a "side-dish" who is 13 or so years younger than a Husband-Slave you have the advantage of saving that pent up energy for short and intensive bursts when called to the stage. Sort of like our local Cuban "closer" who steps onto the mound in the 9th inning every few days to rocket the ball over the plate at 110 mph or so.
In any event, Mistress sounded Sunday like a woman who was well satisfied with Jay's clutch performance. Hopefully it will tide her over until Tuesday night.
But there was one problem.
"The hitachi crashed and burned Slave.... it only works at high speed now."
"Oh no, what happened, Mistress?"
"Well you know how Jay likes to see me do myself with the hitachi. He says it's really hot. But when I got it out, the lower speed setting wouldn't work..... "
Poor Mistress. she does prefer that lower speed. High speed seems too intense for those sensitive lady bits. But I suspect for that one command performance, Mistress gave one up for the team. so to speak.
Plus now I know what to get her for Mother's Day. Maybe I should get an extra one for Jay's house too?
Fortunately, Mistress was able to amuse herself in my absence in the arms of her lover, Jay. She's a little nervous that one of my oldest friends and his wife saw her and Jay walking to dinner Saturday night. But I'm sure that any curiosity readily can be papered over. (She assures me they were not observed sucking face, or worse on the sidewalk).
She did mention that by Sunday morning she was feeling like the proverbial filly that was "rode hard and put away wet".
"I'm exhausted Slave... there was sex before dinner.... then he woke me up in the middle of the night for more sex.... then there was sex this morning...."
Sounds as if Jay definitely rose to the occasion in his role of filling in during my absence. When you're a "side-dish" who is 13 or so years younger than a Husband-Slave you have the advantage of saving that pent up energy for short and intensive bursts when called to the stage. Sort of like our local Cuban "closer" who steps onto the mound in the 9th inning every few days to rocket the ball over the plate at 110 mph or so.
In any event, Mistress sounded Sunday like a woman who was well satisfied with Jay's clutch performance. Hopefully it will tide her over until Tuesday night.
But there was one problem.
"The hitachi crashed and burned Slave.... it only works at high speed now."
"Oh no, what happened, Mistress?"
"Well you know how Jay likes to see me do myself with the hitachi. He says it's really hot. But when I got it out, the lower speed setting wouldn't work..... "
Poor Mistress. she does prefer that lower speed. High speed seems too intense for those sensitive lady bits. But I suspect for that one command performance, Mistress gave one up for the team. so to speak.
Plus now I know what to get her for Mother's Day. Maybe I should get an extra one for Jay's house too?
Thursday, April 16, 2015
Poor Mistress....
Slave has definitely been derelict in his duties these last two days.
I've had to go to a rather tedious professional meeting in Steel City, leaving Wednesday morning, and not returning until Friday until dinner time.
This has left Mistress bereft of the services her slave typically is expected to provide.
I had to slide out of the bed and hit the road early yesterday morning, so it would have been rude to wake her for morning worship, let alone our traditional wake up sex.
Last evening we talked. She was heading to a "networking" event with some professional women.
"Hmmmm, Mistress. Maybe one of them will hit on you. That might be fun."
"That would be in interesting change of pace, Slave. Sometimes I do get tired of all that guy baggage. You all have so many needs for me to deal with. Women can be simpler...."
Sadly, when we checked in later that night, Mistress was home alone, no closer to some sexual attention than beforehand.
"They were pretty much like me, Slave.... no one hit on me. I did pass on the post event trip to a bar that I was invited too...."
Well that might have been a missed opportunity.
Today she was downtown near my office, for another meeting. The following text conversation ensued:
"Downtown, Slave.... and no worship. Poor me."
"I am definitely in default of my obligations, Mistress."
"You are, Slave".
Tonight she was hoping that her lover Jay might provide some hot companionship. But, sadly, he has child care duties that make him unavailable. Instead, she's meeting a female friend at a local bar restaurant. It can also me a bit of a meat market. So I suppose there is a chance that someone will catch her eye.
But if not, poor Mistress may be without sexual services for two nights in a row. That hasn't happened in some time. And I have a feeling Slave will be held responsible.
Maybe she'll make me set up a "cuckold calendar" service, as Terri does for Diane, over at "A Married Sissy". That way I'd have responsibility for keeping her sexually satisfied even when I am out of town.
I suspect she will be tempted to deploy her favorite power tool tonight, if only to take the edge off.
As for me. My instructions are clear.
"Remember Slave. No touching. If I'm not getting any, why should you. I expect you to come back here very horny on Friday."
I don't think that will be a problem.
I've had to go to a rather tedious professional meeting in Steel City, leaving Wednesday morning, and not returning until Friday until dinner time.
This has left Mistress bereft of the services her slave typically is expected to provide.
I had to slide out of the bed and hit the road early yesterday morning, so it would have been rude to wake her for morning worship, let alone our traditional wake up sex.
Last evening we talked. She was heading to a "networking" event with some professional women.
"Hmmmm, Mistress. Maybe one of them will hit on you. That might be fun."
"That would be in interesting change of pace, Slave. Sometimes I do get tired of all that guy baggage. You all have so many needs for me to deal with. Women can be simpler...."
Sadly, when we checked in later that night, Mistress was home alone, no closer to some sexual attention than beforehand.
"They were pretty much like me, Slave.... no one hit on me. I did pass on the post event trip to a bar that I was invited too...."
Well that might have been a missed opportunity.
Today she was downtown near my office, for another meeting. The following text conversation ensued:
"Downtown, Slave.... and no worship. Poor me."
"I am definitely in default of my obligations, Mistress."
"You are, Slave".
Tonight she was hoping that her lover Jay might provide some hot companionship. But, sadly, he has child care duties that make him unavailable. Instead, she's meeting a female friend at a local bar restaurant. It can also me a bit of a meat market. So I suppose there is a chance that someone will catch her eye.
But if not, poor Mistress may be without sexual services for two nights in a row. That hasn't happened in some time. And I have a feeling Slave will be held responsible.
Maybe she'll make me set up a "cuckold calendar" service, as Terri does for Diane, over at "A Married Sissy". That way I'd have responsibility for keeping her sexually satisfied even when I am out of town.
I suspect she will be tempted to deploy her favorite power tool tonight, if only to take the edge off.
As for me. My instructions are clear.
"Remember Slave. No touching. If I'm not getting any, why should you. I expect you to come back here very horny on Friday."
I don't think that will be a problem.
Monday, April 6, 2015
Mistress's Busy Weekend
On our Saturday afternoon bike ride, Mistress made a surprising confession.
"I'm actually sexed out, Slave...."
"You?"
"Think about it Slave.... Sex with you Thursday morning. Sex with Jay Thursday night. And again Friday morning. Then with you again Friday afternoon. Then Friday night with Jay again. And Saturday morning too."
Ah yes. Friday night.
Jay joined us for dinner, then sidled into bed with Mistress in the UCTMW executive suite. That left Slave in our daughter's bed, where our two cats seem particularly annoyed that the house's social order had been so grievously tossed on it's head.
I could hear a little bit of conversation and giggling next door, but what was up was unclear.
In the morning, when Mistress came downstairs to ask me to make some coffee for her "guest", she gave me a brief after action report.
"Jay loves to see me use the hitachi on myself, Slave..... so there was that, and a little sex afterwords before we went to sleep."
Mistress and Jay holed up in their room for another hour or two.... it sounds as if the Hitachi was out and humming again between Mistress's thighs.... and then the three of us walked up to a local greasy spoon for a late morning breakfast.
Then old Mick did some field slave work in our yard, while Mistress and Jay took a romantic walk around our old neighborhood. Jay headed back to his house early in the afternoon. And that's when we took our bike ride.
"All sexed out, Mistress..... does that mean it's an abstinence day for me?"
Hopefully I didn't sound too sulky. I was a tad horny after all. It had been nearly 24 hours, since I had scrupulously followed the "no touch rule" laid down before bedtime on Friday night.
"Oh.... don't worry, Slave.... I'm sure we can work something out after our Saturday afternoon nap....."
"I'm actually sexed out, Slave...."
"You?"
"Think about it Slave.... Sex with you Thursday morning. Sex with Jay Thursday night. And again Friday morning. Then with you again Friday afternoon. Then Friday night with Jay again. And Saturday morning too."
Ah yes. Friday night.
Jay joined us for dinner, then sidled into bed with Mistress in the UCTMW executive suite. That left Slave in our daughter's bed, where our two cats seem particularly annoyed that the house's social order had been so grievously tossed on it's head.
I could hear a little bit of conversation and giggling next door, but what was up was unclear.
In the morning, when Mistress came downstairs to ask me to make some coffee for her "guest", she gave me a brief after action report.
"Jay loves to see me use the hitachi on myself, Slave..... so there was that, and a little sex afterwords before we went to sleep."
Mistress and Jay holed up in their room for another hour or two.... it sounds as if the Hitachi was out and humming again between Mistress's thighs.... and then the three of us walked up to a local greasy spoon for a late morning breakfast.
Then old Mick did some field slave work in our yard, while Mistress and Jay took a romantic walk around our old neighborhood. Jay headed back to his house early in the afternoon. And that's when we took our bike ride.
"All sexed out, Mistress..... does that mean it's an abstinence day for me?"
Hopefully I didn't sound too sulky. I was a tad horny after all. It had been nearly 24 hours, since I had scrupulously followed the "no touch rule" laid down before bedtime on Friday night.
"Oh.... don't worry, Slave.... I'm sure we can work something out after our Saturday afternoon nap....."
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