Public Service

Here in the high desert, where we are officially "sheltering in place" under the Governor's order, there is not much we can do to help out in this time of national crisis.  Apparently the best we can do is just stay out of the way so as not to burden the health care system, and offer some support to our far flung kids who are doing the same.

Mistress has been helping out in her way by doing some reporting about social service agencies back in River City for a local (back there) media outlet. Slave is still doing some remote advisory work for his employer back there as well.  But things have pretty much ground to a halt. And somehow we don't think that's going to be resolved by Easter, as someone recently proclaimed.

That's given us some time for lots of exercise, reading, video streaming, sex, and a return to more active blogging, something that had fallen by the way side over the last year or two.

The least we can do is to provide some entertainment and diversion for our readers.  Looking at our stats, there are at least a few hundred of you out there, looking for something to provide a smile, or a fantasy, to help them through a tedious afternoon or night.  And while we have no active cuckolding to titilate you with, we can at least provide some visuals.  Like one of Mistress enjoying some rays yesterday afternoon on bright SW sunshine:

Or maybe one of Mistress in her "lounge ware" watching TV with her slave last night:

Enjoy!

Free At Last

After dumping our daughter at the airport on Saturday, Mistress and Slave have indulged in some of the activities that only an "empty nest" allow.

First there was a lazy day hanging around Santa Fe, visiting a museum, wandering through that charming downtown and up Canyon Rd., at a leisurely pace, not at the forced march cadence that our "sweet" Co-Ed prefers, always striding 20 feet in front of her boring parents. Sometime the journey is more fun than the destination.

Back at our adobe hideaway on Sunday morning, we set our own schedule. Which included some unfiltered wake-up sex. Since it was our traditional "switch day", Slave dug out some soft towel strips, just long enough for binding Mistress to our bed.  Then Mistress's favorite power tool was deployed, and much cumming ensued.

Once the dust settled, Mistress gave her Slave the ultimate thumbs up.

"That was very good sex, Slave."

"Always happy to serve, Mistress."

After our ski day in bright sunshine, stripped of the overly filling and time killing lunch break our daughter always insists on, we were back at our hideaway by 3 pm or so, leaving time for Mistress to absord some high desert sunshine -- but without the cumbersome undies she was required to wear last week so as not to "shock" our daughter.

When I wandered out onto the patio with a snack, Mistress was already stretched out naked, languishing  in the sun.

"You're nakers, Mistress!"

"Have a problem with that, Slave....?"

Hardly.

Dear Molly and Mick - The Case of the Naked Primper and Her Whiny Husband

This is one of those days when, in search of blogfodder, we "borrow" a hapless request for advice (this time to "Dear Prudence") and give a more straight forward response than can be provided in "family friendly" publications:
 

Wife walks around nude

Dear Prudence, I am having a rather silly problem with my otherwise wonderful wife. She gets up early every morning before work to go to the gym, and then takes a shower when she gets back to our small, one-bedroom apartment. After her shower, she says she gets overheated easily while we're both getting ready for work. I can understand that -- I've already showered while she's gone, she's been exercising, and then she's showered, plus she needs to use a blowdryer to style her hair. But her way of dealing with this is to walk around almost naked (in just her bra and underwear) until she absolutely has to get dressed to leave for work. She eats breakfast like this, puts on her makeup this way -- she basically just goes about her morning routine with barely any clothes on and sometimes she skips the bra entirely. Under other circumstances, I would enjoy this. But when I'm trying to get myself ready for the day, this is kind of distracting. I find myself getting aroused, and since we're both trying to get out the door for work, it's a bad time for sex. But then I get to work and I'm frustrated all day long. I've tried raising this issue with her (delicately) and she gets offended that I can't control myself after we've been married for eight years, which I find offensive. She's the one walking around half-naked. How can I try to resolve this with her peacefully?

M & M Response:

Well this is certainly a first world problem isn't it? Some folks have a 5 mile walk to the nearest water supply, and you have to "endure" the spectacle of your attractive wife prancing around semi-attired in the morning, making your pathetic little dick all tingly?  We have a friend Suzanne who would suggest you go buy your wife a cock cage to lock on you so this "problem" will go away. Here at the UCTMW World HQ, Mistress also rejects the 1950's standards of morning attire that you seem to subscribe to. I'm sure Ward Cleaver never had to worry about June showing off her perky little breasts over her morning coffee. Lumpy Rutherford might pop in and be all scandalized.

We solve the problem by scheduling some early am wakeup sex to take the edge off, but only if Mistress is pleased with my preliminary worship services. And if she determines I am not worthy, she is more than happy to flaunt herself at the expense of me going off to work all horny and longing for her. And, by the way, it's not just in the morning I get the treatment which seems to try your cpacity for self control. How many times have I had to "endure" her nude sun bathing at our SW hideaway while I am doing my field slave duties, chopping back brush or persecuting prairie dogs? And when we are indulging ourselves in some "must see TV" here in the evening, she's usually in some short, silky lingerie, with her lady bits uncovered, teasing me with their proximity and provocative aroma.

Rather than whine about this "distraction", maybe it's time you "man up", fall to your knees and embrace your role as the hapless victim of her early morning tease and denial.

M & M

In case you are interested, here is the much lamer advice that Prudence provided to this whiner:

 

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Ah, tempus fugit! At this stage in my life, the way I turn off my husband is to walk around naked.  This is a sweet dilemma, so it's too bad you both get so annoyed with each other over the fact that after eight years the sight of your undressed wife bouncing around the apartment is so arousing. I get letters from women wishing that their husbands weren't lounging around with the family jewels draped over the upholstery (they do not find it a turn-on).  But I think yours is the first from a guy who finds his wife's toilette so distracting he can't get out the door.  But surely, once you're at the office, you are able to focus on the marketing data and don't spend the whole day moaning over your morning testicular vasocongestion. If you're not able to move on and save it for later, you sound very juvenile. Instead of continuing to fight over this, try taking action  (not the kind of action that will make you late for work). Buy a pretty, short, sheer robe for your wife and give it to her as a gift. Explain that she's so damn attractive that if she were a little more covered in the morning it would help you focus on the day ahead. Tell her she of course doesn't have to wear it, but you know that color looks great on her, and you hope it's lightweight enough that she can put it on without getting overheated. Let's hope that she takes your gesture in good spirit and likes the robe. Of course, if it's silky and sexy, seeing her in it may have the unintended consequence of overheating you.

Update from the Hideaway

Our week a way has certainly flown by quickly here. We've been out skiing everyday, though the local drought has taken a toll on the snow base. Hopefully there will be some left when we return in about a month.

There have been late afternoon naps, a smidgen of work dragging us back to reality from time to time,  plenty of morning and afternoon sex, glorious sunsets, and some evenings our with friends and music. We even met an aging hippie in a cowboy hat who told us his stories from the 60's - complete with plenty of peyote (for religious purposes, of course), communes, and building Dennis Hopper's "Captain America" chopper for "Easy Rider". 

While the temperatures are cool still, when the sun is out, Mistress has had trouble resisting the chance to expose her lovely legs to its warming glow:

But with temperatures ranging from the 30's to the 50's on most days, Mistress has not quite gone this far in searching of that late winter tan:

Heck, it's still ski season!

The Mistress Has Landed

Mistress left her lover J back in our bed in River City Sunday morning, and hitched a ride from her Mother to the River City airport. She was even able to catch an earlier connection to meet me here in the Land of Enchantment, and I was happy to adjust my own plans to pick her up in Santa Fe where a shuttle van from the airport dropped her off at around 12:45 pm.

Naturally, she looked ravishing and surprisingly relaxed as she climbed out of the van, and I walked up to meet her just a few steps away from the Cathedral de San Francisco.  Bells were ringing, and the faithful were celebrating Palm Sunday. But Slave has a different sort of worship in mind.

Mistress was traveling light, and I grabbed one of the two small bags she had brought along.

"So what's your desire Mistress.... lunch here?  Lunch on the way home?"

"Slave, with all this sun, you know what I want to do.... get back to our house.... take off my clothes.... and get out on our patio...."

"Your wish is my command, Mistress."

We hopped in the rental car for the 1 1/2 drive north to our little hideaway.

Along the way Mistress made our plans for the rest of the day crystal clear.

"Now I know you're horny, Slave...."

"So true...."

"But you'll have to wait a little longer.... first sun.... some lunch on the patio....then, when the sun gets low, I will let you fuck me....."

"I understand completely, Mistress."

Why should  I mind being a sunshine cuckold too.

As we drove, Mistress stoked the fire a bit with tales of her weekend with J.

"I'm happy he took good care of your needs, Mistress."

"He did Slave.... and on Saturday evening I showed him all our toys...."

"What did he think...."

"I think he was a little blown away.... he was impressed to see the harness.... and the riding crops."

"Do you think he wants you to try them on him, Mistress...."

"I don't think that's his thing, Slave....."

Soon we were pulling up our drive under a perfectly clear, vividly blue sky.  It was a lovely 70 degrees.

AS she promised, Mistress was soon out of her travel clothes, stripped to a green thong, and paging through the NY Times on a lounge chair, greedily soaking up those harmful UV rays. After a little lunch, she shut her eyes and zoned out for a while.

I took a couple of  photos to share with J via text.

"Quick transition, huh?"

He responded with concern that she apply plenty of sun screen, and she insisted that she had.  Good thinking J!

And by around 5 pm, she finally conceded that the sun was too low for a beneficial effect.

"It's time, Slave..... why not go put in your device.... (the aneros).... I suppose you've waited long enough."

She wasn't going to hear any argument from me. I am happy to follow her orders.

Mistress's Stereo Stimulation

With only about 4 hours of sleep, Molly and Mick woke to a spectacular morning out here in our undisclosed location. Still groggy, the sun and vistas drew us out to our patio, a bit overgrown with weeds fostered by the spring run-off.

I brewed us some coffee, and when I brought two cups outside, I found Mistress spread across a chaise, still quite naked, her I-phone in hand.

“I sent M some photos, Slave. To show him what he is missing.”

“And what did you show him, Mistress?”

“The Mountains, of course. And a shot of my cunt too.”

“Cruel …. You are such a tease Mistress. But I’m sure it looked good in the morning sunlight.”

Soon we were back in bed. It had been almost 36 hours for Slave. That’s a long time for me, and I was already pretty horny. And the thought of Mistress teasing her long distance Master so wantonly had a little more fuel to my fire.

In bed, I used my used lips and tongue to bring Mistress to her first orgasm of the morning. And, to tell the truth, I would have been happy to plunge into her then and there for a quick and dirty fuck to cut the edge on my desire.

But Mistress had other things in mind.

“I want to taste my cock, Slave.”

“Of course, Mistress.”

She has gotten very good over the last few months at driving me crazy with tongue and fingers . Maybe it was her experience with Sir M, her starter Dom, who liked her on her knees servicing him before he decided how to fuck her. Or it could be all the fantasy talk she’s had with Master M about how he would / will require her to please him. Whatever the inspiration, I am glad to be the beneficiary.

Within a few minutes she had me reduced to an all too pathetic whimpering and craven state, making me beg her repeatedly for the right to fuck her.

When she finally relented, she pushed me onto my back.

“I’m going to ride you for a while Slave. Remember, no coming until I give you permission.”

“Of course, Mistress.”

At this point I seem so well programmed that I don’t think I can come without her permission.

She began a slow and relentless process of grinding her way to the type of orgasm built only with care, patience and a single minded purpose.

And all I could do was provide the very hard cock. And a little chit chat along the way.

“M thinks that I let you come too often, Slave.”

Hmmm. This could be a little unnerving.

“Maybe I should make you wait 2 or 3 more days, Slave. What do you think?”

“He should talk. What with fucking B and jerking off with you, he seems to get off 3 or 4 times a day.”

“Well he is the Master…. But he says it’s very hot and powerful to make you wait between orgasms.”

“I can’t argue with that, Mistress.”

Well you can imagine what this talk was doing to me. And Mistress’s fingers caressing my balls as she rode me, setting her own tempo, was certainly pressing the edge of my will power.

Fortunately, after Mistress came with a nifty explosion of shudders and moans, she seemed to lose focus on her thoughts about orgasm denial, and she allowed me to mount her and, at long last, come with her consent.

The resulting shock and awe left me depleted. I drifted off for a while before the sun shining through our window rejuvenated us enough to begin our day anew.

There was some weedwacking to do, and a long, exhilarating bike ride past pastures and flowing irrigation ditches.

Later, around noon, I had to go down to negotiate the renewal of our little used post office box with the local Post Mistress. She is a short, stocky woman who’s authority in this little village is absolute and uncompromising.

She probably has a riding crop tucked away behind the counter.

She required me to return for more documentation to confirm that, yes, we really are citizens entitled to receive mail. But I elected to take a lunch break before re-engaging with the Post Mistress.

Muffin and beverage in hand, I found Mistress lounging on our patio, back on the chaise. Naked. Phone to her ear.


“Ahhh….here’s my Slave. I’m talking to M, Slave….he’s at work. But he’s giving us … instructions.”

I had a feeling that the muffin I had just bitten into would have to wait.

“He says you are to get on your knees and worship.”

“Of course, Mistress.”

I retrieved a pillow, to save my knees from the hard bricks and red ants, and assumed my assigned position in this little tableau.

“He’s down there, M. Ummmm…. Nice.”

It was nice for me too. Mistress’s lovely parts were already quite damp from sunscreen and her natural juices. A lovely taste and aromatic treat for me, bringing back memories of teenaged lust on New Jersey beaches during the reign of LBJ.

As I looked up, tongue still at work as her hips squirmed to the beat of my ministrations, I saw Mistress’s eyes screwed shut, focused on whatever it was M was murmuring into her ear.

And there was the sound of her voice, thick with arousal, responding to him. Egging him on.

“Yes, M. I want you to do that to me….”

“Oh….yes. that would be amazing.”

“Does this turn you on, M?

“Yes….I’ve been imagining that…..”

Soon Mistress was pumping in desperation against my mouth, her free hand reaching down to press my face harder against her….as she was moaning her pleasure into the phone. With a sudden convulsion, she came once, so very deliciously in response to his command.

But I had not yet been relieved of my duties, so I continued on, with my own relentless devotions.

I could tell he was still spinning some type of dark and delicious fantasy for her, but her responses were incoherent now, as she built herself to yet another, even more enthusiastic climax.

“Oh God, M. I just came again….enough Slave.”

Her hand weakly pressed against my forehead, urging me to back off.

“Is that OK with him, Mistress.”

I did not want to be party to insubordination. Not that this little drama would get any Rolling Stone coverage. That’s become more of a family magazine with the passing of Dr. Thompson.

“He wants to know if he can stop, M.”

“Yes…Slave. He says I’ve had enough….and he has to get back to work.”

Relieved of my command, I slid back, and brushed some errant muffin crumbs off Mistress’s sodden and swollen parts.

Later, when it was time for me to collect my reward, I asked Mistress if she enjoyed her stereo sexual stimulation – with me at her clit and M at her ear.

She just smiled.

“What’s not to like, Slave. ….And, by the way, could you go get the Hitachi. I don’t think I’ve had that since Tuesday night.”

“Of course, Mistress.”