Mistress and her Mountain Man

Mistress had a “date” Saturday evening with her long time crush – a guy who’s summited Everest, Dinali (aka McKinley) and a batch of other peaks around the world. When he’s not gallivanting around the world, he’s tossing explosives to trigger avalanches before the slopes open to mere mortals, as part of the ski patrol at our local ski resort. We’ve called him Mountain Man (MM) here over the last few years.

He’s the peak that Mistress would love to bag in her fantasy life. And we all need fantasies, don’t we?

But was it really the “date” she had in mind?  Not really. For one, her slave was along to chaperone. Hard to flirt with me sitting at the table at a local watering hole, slipping a beer. Though hardly impossible. 

And there was a legitimate reason for our meeting with MM. In September we are joining a group to climb Kilimanjaro, and MM is our guide. (Of course, it’s no coincidence that Mistress made sure we signed up for this particular expedition, is it?)

So Mistress reached out to MM to arrange a time to talk over training, equipment and what to expect on the trail to the top.

Of course, “Kili” is a walk in the park for MM. Sure it’s a jaunt up to 20,0000 feet.  But (they say) it’s a relatively easy stroll if you can handle the altitude and all those hours and days on your tootsies. There are lots of bearers and other staff to lighten the load and prepare meals. We just have to show up and endure.

Flirting is optional.

Mistress did a little of that over our drinks with MM. She avidly shared a few climbing stories from her youth that seemed to get MM’s attention. I could detect the glow in her eyes as she and he discussed some mutual friends from her days climbing Mt. Ranier, where MM has guided over the years.  Has she planted some seeds that could sprout in the months to come?  We shall see. But it’s definitely a long term project that I do not think Mistress is prepared to abandon just yet.  At least it might keep her on simmer through our adventure in September!

In the meantime, there is some frustration in our efforts to find her a local “side-dish” here in the high desert now that we plan to spend much more time here. AM has been a bust. Too few fish in the arid, higher altitude pond here. Mostly guys looking to cheat on their wives, which Mistress does not find appealing.  But apparently she’s not the only one with a problem when it comes to looking for some relaxed, unencumbered sex. 

In yesterday’s Washington Post, there was an article by a late 30’s woman titled “I Want A Lover Not a Boyfriend, describing her frustration in finding a "Mr. Right Now" who is happy to provide some sexual attention without the trappings of a traditional “relationship”:

“I’m not looking for a “boyfriend” or a “husband.” I want a lover. I want to have consistently good sex with someone I like and respect, who likes and respects me, without the trappings of domesticity. That might change. Might not. But in this moment of my life, when I’m juggling projects and co-parenting, I simply want good sex on a regular basis with a side of good conversation, the occasional out-of-bed adventure and special-occasion date.”

She describes how single guys actually get insecure when they learn she’s not looking for someone to “put a ring on it”.

So maybe this “first world problem” is not as uncommon as one might tend to think.

Cock Ride Palooza

Mistress and slave have been enjoying our time away - extending now beyond our typical two week stay and heading onto a month. It's beginning to feel more like home here than back in River City. As it should, since at some point down the road we hope to cut all our Heartland ties and become full time residents here in the high desert.

In terms of sexual fun, Mistress has gotten a tad more feisty this week during our morning sex.  Maybe it's the lack of a "deadline" to be up and out of the bed -- after all the ski valley is not going to go away if we show up 30 minutes later, is it?

The result has been a more active role for Mistress, as she "saddles up" on her slave's eager cock following that initial starter cum delivered by my avid and well trained tongue.

Yesterday morning was an example. After a quick inspection and the application of her full and tender lips to assure that her work-a-day cock  was fully prepared, She rolled onto me, her long hair draped over her face. I just laid there as her fingers grabbed hold and guided my eager organ into the close and cozy confines of those clean shaven folds.

She eagerly took charge then, sliding up, then down, impaled on my humble tool, a woman possessed. Or should it be possessing?

Then, with a sudden shock, and to my awe, she came with startling force and fury.

"Wow, Mistress that may have been a record."

"I guess I was horny this morning, slave....."

Apparently.  Was it because she was anticipating her apres ski "date" that evening with the long time object of her fantasies - the mysterious " mountain man" from the local ski patrol?

More on that tomorrow.

Mistress Chokes.

It was another heavenly day of ample sunshine, warm temperatures and uncrowded slopes here in the high desert. And it's even better on a Sunday when Mistress and slave don't have to slavishly monitor their I-phones while riding the ski lift ,to create the impression that they remain attentive and engaged in that alternative work universe.

And of course before we hit the slopes there was sex. Slave even unwound the extension cord and plugged in Mistress's favorite power tool to give her a nice shuddering cum before taking advantage of her weakened state of consciousness.

But back to the slopes. The blue skis. the well groomed cruiser runs that make you feel like Spider Sabbitch or Suzie Chapstick. All the stars are aligned for an epic day.

And then, Mistress's big opportunity came. As we crested a rise at the top of the mountain and prepared to slide off the chairlift, there HE was -- casually strolling in his red and white ski patrol jacket, walking two cute mountain rescue dogs.  It was Mistress's fantasy Mountain Man, the guy who holds the USA record for "bagging" Everest. He works here in winters between guiding treks to Denali, Kilimanjaro, the Antarctic, and Nepal. Mistress and MM  are "intimate" facebook friends, and on our last trip here he even gave Mistress a little hug and kiss on the cheek when she chatted him up after his world spanning slide show and lecture.

Was this karma. A chance to follow up, maybe finagle an apres ski beverage?

This is how things unfolded:

Slave: "Is that him, Mistress...."

Mistress: "Uh....ummm.... I think.... uh, yeah.... that's him...."

(Chair hits apex where it's time to unload.... Mistress and slave slide onto the snow, dodging one cute dog).

Slave whispers an aside: "Say hello, Mistress..."

Mistress:  "Wow.... I....not sure..... ...."

(Uncertain, Mistress slides past MM, gaining speed on her skis as the window of opportunity slams shut.)

Slave:  "Hey [first name of MM].... nice dogs...."

MM: "Yeah.... great aren't they....."

(Of course, MM doesn't know who the fuck slave is....he's only talked to Molly in the past)

When I caught up with Mistress I politely asked why she didn't say anything to her fantasy MM.

"I didn't want to be a stalker slave...."

"But you weren't stalking, Mistress ... he was right there... in front of you.... you had to turn to avoid running right into him...."

By now Mistress was recovering from the jittery knees and flush that no doubt started somewhere betwixt her clean shaven folds. She was apparently too embarrassed to hike a little ways back up the hill. And MM was now bringing the cute dogs into the ski patrol HQ adjacent to the lift. Heading back to say "hi " would clearly have been stalker-esque at that point.

Poor Mistress.

Another missed opportunity!

MIstress Closes in on Her Mountain Man

We had a very lovely Christmas here at our SW hideaway, with our two daughters and one son-in-law cluttering up the nest.  On Christmas Eve, we all headed out to the nearby Pueblo, for their annual ritual, that has been going on in its basic form for centuries, complete with blazing bonfires, costumed dancers and an amazing sunset. And frybread too.

After that, we had some friends over to share Mistress's mystical chili. On Christmas day, after the presents were opened (and after our wake-up sex), we headed up to the ski mountain to get in some turns under the cloudless blue sky before the holiday tourist rush arrives in earnest.

It was up there that Mistress finally got some in person charm from her "dream date", the local ski patrol guy who in his spare time has climbed Mt. Everest more than any other American. Mistress face book friended MM last spring, after we saw him give a slide show lecture on his adventures. So she's been cyber stalking him for nearly a year as he has gone from Everest to Kilimanjaro to Rainier these last few months. She knew that he was headed back from guiding a group in Antarctica this week, and shared a few conversations with him on facebook about when he'd be back on "our" mountain.

He even told her to "slap him up side the head" on the mountain (i.e. say hello) so he could meet her in person.  So it came as no surprise that Mistress and our daughter decided it would be nice to drop by the ski patrol hut at the top of the highest lift to "visit the rescue dogs".

Some pretext.

Sure enough, just as the two ladies stepped inside, Mistress found her MM, with the easy grin and smooth lines about dodging K-2 because in that part of the Himalayas the mountains are "too pointy and the drone strikes in Pakistan a little too close for comfort."

Fortunately, Mistress kept herself in relative check during their conversation, probably because our daughter was standing there. I even snapped a photo of the three of them, giving Mistress a chance for further facebook chat last night as she shared the photo with her MM and asked permission to post it. (Not on her sexblog, just on more conventional social media).

So it's fair to say that Mistress got a very nice Christmas gift in the fantasy fulfillment category.

We'll see if she can close the net a little further when we are back here solo next year!

Livin' Large

Mistress and Slave are in the "Final Throes" of our two week "recess", as Dick Cheney might put it. We've enjoyed the advent of spring here, particularly with our sullen College girl back to campus where she belongs.

It's finally warmed up and we've settled into a routine that includes a little work in the AM, sex, sun, skiing, more sun, more sex, and then some dinner, either here or in a local watering hole. And as you can see, Mistress has found a way to work on that lineless tan, (I had to sneak up on her while on a conference call to take this shot.

In the meantime, Mistress has been following the blog reported adventures of her Mountain Man, who is now treking those last 50 miles or so to Everest base camp. And he must me tracking her too... Yesterday she breathlessly reported that he had "liked"  a photo she had posted of a Ski Patrol rescue dog.

"Hmmm.... just think Mistress. Somewhere on a dusty trail in Nepal, at maybe 19,000 feet, MM was sipping some fermented Yak milk, flipped open his lap-top, hooked up the satellite internet link and bothered to check out your FB feed! Pretty impressive!"

"Do you think so, Slave....."

Poor Mistress. She has a case.

Now you might think that we've broken all records for the good life while out here. But our neighbor has set a standard that will be very hard to match.

JM was a Jewish youngster in Vichy France during the Nazi occupation. He survived that to come here in the mid-1950's to build a ski lodge and start the local ski school. THose were the days when ski fashions were a little different, and the bindings were leather thongs.

Over the years he burned through about 5 wives and fathered more than a dozen kids. Supposedly there once was a local bumper sticker that said "Honk if you're JM's kid". He clearly was a rakish charmer back in the day, though he is only about 5'4".  Here he is with his younger brother, probably back in the early 1960's:
Now JM must be approaching 80. But despite a horrific ski accident last season on opening day, Mistress and Slave spotted him out on the Mountain this week, teaching some gringos in that French accident the proper way to handle some big assed moguls with the proper style. Just like he does when racing down the mountain in classic out on the edges form. Somehow I suspect the old guy has not lost his way with the ladies anymore than he has lost his form on the slopes. Now that is something for an aging Slave to aspire to!