Heading Back to River City. Damn.

We hit the long road back soon, after one more bike ride through our little piece of heaven. But we will miss the rare opportunity for a week away without surly teens, the pressure of work, or that damnable river valley humidity. “Heat emergency”, here we come.

Mistress has made her Slave grow his beard out these last few days. In my opinion, one reason is that Master M, has some fluffy facial hair, as demonstrated by the photo that pops up when he calls Mistress on her I-phone.

So, on the 4th, when two of our local female friends commented on my newly scruffy look, and asked what was up, I simply told the truth:

“Molly is having fantasies about having sex with a guy with a beard. I am just trying to accommodate her.”

Of course they just laughed at my “clever joke”. If only they knew the hi-jinks of their seemingly bland friends from the “conservative” heartland!

Yesterday we wallowed in the waters at a local Hot Springs Resort (no private pool this time), enjoyed an al fresco dinner on our patio, watched another amazing lipstick sunset from our front porch, then joined some friends for dancing and a few drinks under the stars on the lawn nearby Roadhouse.

It was the perfect way to end a perfect vacation.

When we got home, higher up the mountain, away from the ambient light of that busier part of “town”, the stars were out in their complete glory, the milky way a creamy blur arching above us.

Mistress and Slave were both naked by the time we stepped outside our bedroom to catch the show, clinging for warmth in the cool mountain air.

And then, as we retreated to our bedroom, I “thought out loud”.

“Gotta remember to pack my little white probe, Mistress.”

“Hmmmm….is that a request, Slave….”

“Well…..”

“Why don’t you put it in now, Slave….that might be the best reminder….”

“Of course, Mistress.”

And when I came to bed, probe duly inserted, my cock was already beginning to stir.

We clung, kissed, my fingers sliding between Mistress’s legs, as we talked about what a wonderful trip it had been. And soon Mistress was tipping over into orgasm land, coming with a little shudder and stifling a moan into my shoulder.

Her fingers had, by then, slid down to cozy my cock.

“”Oh my, already hard for me, Slave. Nice….very nice.”

She invited me to fuck her, and I did not take the time to RSVP.

And as I did my “duty”, varying the pace, I explained how well she had me trained.

“I really don’t think I could come without your permission any longer, Mistress….you have me programmed.”

“I like that Slave”, she said between those little moaning sounds she makes as I pump into her, “but I don’t think I really have tried to program you…it just turned out that way.”

“Really, not even a little, Mistress?”

“Well, maybe a little….”

“It’s nice to be programmed, Mistress….takes away difficult choices. I just need to wait for your invitation, and then I am ready.”

I had backed off a bit, and was using my finger to diddle Mistress’s clit, even as I continued to slide my hips this way and that against her.

“Mmmm….that’s good Slave.”

Exactly what was good – what I had said, or what I was doing - was unclear. But good is good.

By now my fingers were frantically rubbing her naughty parts, as my other hand pinned her arms above her head. All the while my cock was plunging into her. She was oh so close….

“How would that feel if M programmed you Mistress …. Made it so you could come only with his permission, the way I am programmed by you.”

“I don’t know Slave…..”, she seemed genuinely confused.

But Somehow those thoughts of such complete submission to her long distance Master were just a little too much for her, and her hips launched into some powerful convulsions against my own. Her head was thrown back, eyes screwed shut. It was a poteny one, if I do say so myself.

And it was about then that I proved my point.

“Mistress, may I come….”

“Yes, Slave, you may.”