Showing posts with label Rob Lowe. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Rob Lowe. Show all posts

Sunday, March 6, 2011

In the Shadow of Rob Lowe

Mistress  enjoyed her  CEO Appreciation Day.

And your comments were very fulfilling for her. She likes being thought of as the benign and benevolent authority here at UCTMW.

But Sin, do you really think it was creepy for me to hover just a little too closely to her in those months before  she acknowledged that my unspoken but probably apparent attraction to her was mutual?

In any event, if my behavior was sordid, in my defense, I can only say it was really out of my control. I was completely smitten.

As you might expect, once Molly decided she was going to call my bluff, she was quite direct about it. And me, well, then I was the one scared semi-shitless. But that is a different story.

Suffice it to say that by the summer of 1988, we were torridly involved with one another, doing our best to cover our tracks. One prime scene of our serial crimes was at the Democratic Convention that summer in Atlanta. Mistress had a room at a romantic B and B near a leafy park off of Peachtree Ave.  Mine was in a plastic high rise hotel near the convention center.

But for most of that week – in between sessions where the theme song was that old Neil Diamond song "Coming to America"”, there was a whole lot of very sweaty coming , and coming , and coming in Molly’s sodden B and  B bed. Combine the sultry summer Georgia air, and a room with minimal AC ... well, lots of hydration and new sheets were required to keep us going.

Rob Lowe in bed with some teenager was the scandal of that Convention. (sex tape scandals).We can only be thankful that the absence of cell phones and the higher tech accoutrements of this modern era allowed Molly and Mick to keep their torrid romance below the radar screen all through the great battle royale that was the 1988 Presidential campaign.

For now, let’s just say that Mistress responded well yesterday morning to my homage to her magnetic sexual appeal to me back in 1987-88. She is a sucker for my romantic tributes, so accuse me of being manipulative all you want, but isn’t that a primary reason we started this blog?

As a form of early morning foreplay for both of us?

You would be surprised how often it works exactly that way.

When I went upstairs yesterday morning, and handed her the computer, it wasn’t long before she was digging into my prosaic flashback. And my face was buried between those musky clean shaven folds.

And when she was done – with a little sigh of appreciation – her legs spread a bit wider and her hips rose up to meet my questing tongue. Soon she was writhing as I took her over the top.

Once Mistress had her little starter O, her hands reached for my cock and brought it to full attention for the main course.

Rest assured, Mick was quite satisfied before our morning encounter was done.

It was a pretty busy day for us after that. Mistress was off to some hair and nail appointments with the elder surly teen. I spent a good chunk of the day with my cute grandson.

But Mistress was still in command of her empire later last night when we enjoyed dinner with some friends. We were standing in their large suburban kitchen, the main part of the meal done, and getting ready for desert.

While watching the grandson, I had made some of my apple crisp, something Mistress can enjoy, despite a wheat allergy. And as our hostess dished out the crisp, Mistress handed be her nearly empty wine glass.

“Get me some more wine, Slave.”

“Of course, Mistress.”

I’m still wondering if our friends heard that little exchange.