I am missing Mistress even more these last 24 hours.
As you may have picked up from these pages, we were brought together not just by an electric sexual connection, but also by our mutual interest in political and civic affairs. I always joked that I could never relate to or be with a woman who was born after the Kennedy Assassination, and sure enough, Mistress just made it under the wire.
After our second “date”, we had connected so profoundly that we talked about how nice it would be to have a child named after JFK’s daughter. Maybe it was the pheromones talking? But, sure enough, about 4 years later, we did.
So sitting here in front of the TV, or buried in the internet coverage and newspapers these last hours, wallowing in the historic , cathartic news coverage about events in that villa on Pakistan, and the gutsy call of our President, its almost painful not to have Molly hear with me to share the moment.
We had shared the horror of 9-11 together, shielding as best we could our young girls, then 7 and 8, from the horror unfolding on our TV screen.
So it seemed particularly sad not to share the events of Sunday evening with Mistress.
As the news broke, I texted her, though I knew she was fast asleep, phone off at 5 am or so in Krakow, still processing her experience at Auschwitz. I knew she’d want to know what had broken while she slept.
And, quite frankly, I am a little worried about what might transpire in Europe these next few days, as Osama’s vile sycophants contemplate retaliation.
We did get some chance to talk today. And after she filled me in on her visit to Oscar Schindler’s Enamel wear factory, I covered some of the coverage and nuances of what had transpired. Later, after she was snoozing, I sent her an email with this photo, showing the President and his senior advisors, following the raid “real time”.
What a window into history.
But lest you think the UCTMW Enterprises has gone all vanilla on you, I need to add something else.
As our regular readers know, while Mistress is away, I’m required to wear my cage daily. And Mistress has asked me to send a photo daily, with some timely cue or insert that reassures her that I’m not recycling photos just to avoid the discomfort that the hard steel cage and its tight steel ring can have on my “equipment”.
Well I am a little modest about showing off my work-a-day cock, but figure on this historic occasion an exception can be justified. This is the photo Mistress got to see around her lunch time today:
