Cuckold Meme of the Day: Juggling Kids and Cuckolding

 During Mistress's early days as a cuckoldress we still had two daughters at home, attending a nearby high school.  We were not the sort of couple you might read about in smutty stories on Literotica, where the kids are all in on Mom's "stepping out", and her humiliation and domination of their "sissy" dad.  No, we were always mindful to play the role of devoted and monogamous couple for our girls, family and  vanilla friends.  This required a certain amount of juggling, and matching "cover stories". Mom might have an important business meeting to attend during the dinner hour, or even a "business trip" to cover for an overnight with one of her lovers .hat was consistent with her career at the time, and never drew questions from our girls. Of course, whether they had sneaky suspicions about Mom's mysterious texting or other behaviors we will never know!

I can think of one exception.  Jay was her longest lasting relationship.  We evolved some sort of cover story where he became a close mutual friend. He and his son even came to one of our family Thanksgiving celebrations, one of her birthday parties, etc.  I'm not sure if Jay and Mistress  ever had an opportunity to sneak off to a quiet room in the house for a quicky, but there were never any PDA's in front of the other family members or guests.

A Reclusive Thanksgiving

We hope all of our followers in the USA enjoyed a hearty and happy Thanksgiving.

For our part, this was a chance for us to dodge  the annoying aspects of the mandatory rituals that have encrusted Thanksgiving ---  the forced consumption, the endless loop of irrelevant football games, and, for us, preparing large meals for extended family members who always seem to avoid pitching in to the best of their ability.

With our daughters out of town, and my two older daughters committed to dining with their Mother, our River City  TG day feast would have been a B-list affair in any event. So we took the opportunity to motor 1350 miles west to seek shelter here in our SW hideaway.

We were committed to a hermits holiday, so when some folks here invited us to join them for their holiday meal with a group of friends from Florida, we politely demurred.  The home made pies our potential hostess described were certainly tempting (particularly to Mistress), but we had a nagging suspicion that the dinner time chat would quickly lurch into a heated debate about the merits of our Pussygrabber in Chief. Not good for the digestion, or compatible with our desire for a non-traditional holiday.

Rather than park on the couch, munching "starters", or hunkered down  in front of our laptops to do some early on line holiday shopping, we enjoyed some early morning wake up sex, then headed up to the "Top of New Mexico". With snow unusually sparse so far this season, the trail was open for what turned into a 7 hour "jaunt" up and down our adopted state's highest peak. We had learned a lesson on Kili: slow and steady up the trail. At the 13,400 foot top we had an enjoyable chat with a Seattle couple, new to town, who had also found an excuse to avoid a traditional holiday with family back in on the West Coast.

From the top, Mistress also texted our Kili Guide, aka Mountain Man, with a picture of us celebrating our holiday "conquest". He's down in Patagonia now, readying for that trek to the top of Antarctica. He responded within moments  with a humorous congratulatory text, reporting on some nice weather down under.  Mistress was pleased.

Back at home at around 5 pm, we committed the ultimate TG atrocity: dinner for two with our dumbed down "feast"  whipped up and in the oven in about 15 minutes. With a roast chicken and squash in the oven, it gave us time for a brief recuperative nap to rest stiff and achy legs and feet. 90 minutes later, slave quickly whipped up some low energy sides: Brussel sprouts, canned cranberries, and (the horror) STOVE TOP STUFFING!

After that long hike, and the glow of another gorgeous sunset still fading on the horizon, the meal was every bit as yummy as the full tilt feast we would have taken hours to prepare for surly and ungrateful guests back in River City. And the clean up was a comparative snap, without all those extra wine glasses and plates to jam into the dishwasher, as drunken guests jammed the kitchen but failed to lend a helping hand.

Of course, our mission wasn't accomplished until my particularly yummy desert: the chance to worship Mistress shortly after we retired to our bed.

This could be the start of a new family tradition!

Unscheduled Abstinence Day

Mistress and slave are passing through the very smokey Smokey Mountains. on a journey to visit our cute daughter and her boyfriend in GA for Thanksgiving.  Anything for an excuse to dodge to tired ritual of the big family dinner with all that cooking, whining, and slackering by  extended family members. So many  love to chow down at our table but always find ways to resist any impulse to pitch in when it comes time to clean up.

 This is a particularly good holiday to dodge the ritual big family feast. No doubt there will be plenty of bickering and finger pointing at Thanksgiving Tables throughout America over the results of the Presidential election here in the US.  Did you support the bigoted blowhard? Did you not embrace with sufficient enthusiasm his entitled, prevaricating and seemingly disengaged opponent? Did you "waste" your vote on one of the more idealistic third party candidates?  The options of blame are endless.

We are  anticipating dining out with two young ones not particularly focused on the political havoc, and visiting a town along the shore that is steeped in history. I mean, can the ascendance of Trumpism rival the mayhem of the Civil War and Grant's March to the Sea?

I guess we will find out soon enough.

In the meantime, lets clean up some missing details following Mistress's sleepover date with Jay on Sunday night.  I left you hanging with Mistress locked away in our bedroom with her lover early Monday morning.

As it turned out, Jay had to leave very early. Once he was gone, Mistress invited me to return to the marital bed.  But there was no nookie to be had.

" After all that hard fucking I'm pretty sore down there, slave.....you'll just have to wait until later."

Fortunately, she was willing to accept some morning worship before I headed for work.  Some soothing attention from a skilled and attentive tongue couldn't hurt, could it?

And the up side for slave, despite stirrings from below the belt that could not be immediately satisfied, was savoring the tangy mingled detritus of Mistress arousal from the night before and what her lover left behind.

Yum.

I went off to work a tad horny, but with the expectation that satisfaction might be on the horizon at the end of the day.  But it was not to be.  I had scheduled dinner with my daughter and cute grandkids, while Mistress did some work and packed for our trip.  When I got home around 8 or so, we adjourned to the bedroom.  But there was no hanky panky beyond some additional palliative worship.

"I'm giving you a rain check slave.....I have to say I am still tender from last night."

"Sounds like Jay had some pent up demand after all those weeks of hiatus, Mistress>"

"Definitely. He did that thing where He fucked me standing up with me at the side of the bed.  I'm surprised you didn't hear us."

Not to self: next time go to bed early and turn off the TV.

But don't feel too sorry for this pampered slave.  By Tuesday morning, Mistress was "good to go". And slave was more than ready to break that long, horrific  48 hour abstinence streak.

Dreading the Holidays

Mistress and slave spent a lovely Friday evening at home alone last night, after a too busy week of too much socializing. And it could get worse in the week to come.  We made sure to get in a some worship and clean shaven fold fondling as we caught up on Homeland, and devoured left over Indian food from the party we threw here in Thursday night.

With the holidays approaching, our extended families start showing up, expecting us to schedule them into our lives. We will be hosting Thanksgiving here for about 12 folks. And then there are the ancillary family gatherings that Mistress's mother, the Dowager Domme,  and my older daughters will try to wrangle us into.  And of course our youngest daughter will be back from college for the long weekend, cramping our style on the other side of a thin bedroom wall.

Mistress and slave will barely have enough privacy and time for some basic sexy fun, let alone any kink or cuckoldry.

Am I the only person not looking forward to all this forced march extended family togetherness? Is it wrong to think family time is better when it's less, not more?

It makes you wonder if there isn't a better way to celebrate Thanksgiving, doesn't it?

Rather than have the same collection of relatives, daughters and boyfriends / sons-in-law over for the holidays, wouldn't it be more fun to have Mistress's extended collection of side-dishes over to eat bird and other body parts?  And why not invite some of our sex blogger friends to join in? Maybe Diane Paul and Terri, from A Married Sissy Cuckold, or the inimitable Cuckolder with his entourage? It could be an orgy of eating and excess, sexual and otherwise.

Rather than my sometimes annoying sister in law and her condescending husband asking for free legal advice, Terri and I could be wearing aprons, cock cages and little else, preparing the feast, while our ladies could be putting their alpha lovers through their paces, working up an appetite. Sure, they might get their "stuffing" before the turkey and marshmallow coated sweet potatoes are served.  But I'm sure they'd save some room for cream pie!

No doubt after dinner Terri and I would have a lot of "cleaning up" to do.

But it would would be a lot more fun.  And there would still be "Black Friday" to look forward to!

Thanksgiving with the Dommes

One thing we had to be especially thankful for yesterday was a relatively painless, incident free Thanksgiving dinner at Mistress's mother's house not far from the UCTMW World HQ.

Festivities did not begin until 5 pm, leaving time for wake-up sex here at home, a bike ride, and an afternoon nap that was preceded by some face between the thighs time (my face, her thighs, of course).

It was the second year in a row that Mistress and Slave craftily dodged the TG dinner hosting duties. What a relief not to engage in all that set up, cleaning and organizing. We did agree to provide the turkeys, which was a snap. We order them in advance from a funky local BBQ joint that specializes in deep fried and smoked turkeys for their holiday customers. You drive by, they pop them in your trunk, all cut up and slathered in BBQ sauce. Delicious, and so convenient. Two turkeys for $50? And so much leftover we could eat turkey for a week if we could handle the post meal comas that always seem to ensue.

In attendance at dinner were Mistress's sister and brother in law. Our cute Co-Ed (the other is "studying" overseas), and Mistress's step sister,  her husband and three geeky sons. Although the dinner conversation, dominated by the geeks, veered to the tedious, the food was great, the wine flowed, and we were able to make our excuses and crash at a reasonable hour.

Before dinner I quietly cued Mistress to stand next to her mother, the Dowager Domme, so I could take this photo of the two of them in their black boots and tights, complemented by simple black dresses and some striking jewelry for the holiday.  These are not two ladies who would be caught dead in one of those colorful holiday sweaters with an overstuffed turkey woven across the boobs. Indeed, you can see where Mistress got her style cues, and "take charge" disposition. At 75, the Dowager Domme has not lost an iota of her high fashion sensibility.

Obviously, at least one  daughter did not fall far from the heel of her Mom's kinky boots.

Happy Thanksgiving. Now, Eat!

Here at the UCTMW World HQ we had a prequel feast last night, including Molly's sister and brother in law in town for the holiday, my daughter, son-in-law and two cute grandsons who will be at his family's ritual feasting today, and Molly's mother, the Dowager Domme of the family.  We did a good job of avoiding any major confrontations or faux pas, holding our fire until the birds are served tomorrow.

(Well there was one little "yuck" moment, with Molly's sister making fun over grilled Salmon of some little boy on her husband's side of the family because he likes artsy crafty things, makes himself bracelets, and wanted to dress like a girl for Halloween. She didn't know that my grandsons love artsy crafty things, and my daughter had put a whole raft of them on her suggested Christmas gifting list. Several of us swiftly steered the conversation in the direction of "isn't it good that kids don't have to fit into the old stereotypes anymore".  Not sure she got the hint.)

The house is already filling up. Our Cute Co-Ed is here, beginning to fret about what happens after she graduates in June. (her parents are fretting too!). And this morning when I went down to brew coffee, humming some Holiday tune, I was startled to discover her semi-boyfriend asleep on our couch.  Where did he come from? And is it good or bad that he's not sharing CCO's bed?

Even with the extra bodies here, Mistress and Slave will definitely engage in some stifled wake up sex. If we are going to indulge in rituals today, we might as well start with a good one.  There will be some bike riding, some brush clearing for me, and a visit to my cranky mother, who is long past joining us for dinner. I will almost miss her annoyed demeanor at the table, and her grousing about no one eating her store bought sweet potato pie with the coolwhip can beside it,  in favor of the thick creamy home made concoctions prepared my Molly's mom.

This brings us to the subject of buffer guests. Those friends, work colleagues or even total strangers  in high demand to provide some insurance that the family gathering will not quickly devolve into an ugly showdown where the scabs of generational resentment and decades old petty insults,  are picked apart and rubbed raw like the carcass of a fattened turkey's carcass.

Family members are much more reluctant to remind you that you (or your children) have gained weight, that you wore that outfit last year, or that they make more money than you, if your old college pal, or your executive assistant and her husband are there at the table, right?

Plus there's always a chance that one of your guests teenaged kids will get high with you on the deck, or hook up with one of your kids or their cousins in a guest bedroom while dessert is served.  That's better than the threat of  incest.

Of course, inviting buffer guests to defuse family tensions is a tradition as long as Thanksgiving itself. Why do you think the "native Americans"  invited those fancy panted Puritans to what is reputed to be the first Thanksgiving?  To teach them table manners?

But the competition for buffer guests is getting more intense with each passing Thanksgiving. I've heard that instead of being grateful for the invite to over-indulge with you and your "loving" family, they are comparing invitations up to the last minute, and asking the successful bidder to "sweeten" the deal. And I'm not talking about letting them take home left over sweet potato pie and cool whip.

Note to Self: Next year launch an Uber like App to match potential buffer guests in the n neighborhood with families in desperate need. It could even show "times of arrival" and "times the pies get cut" to match the hungry with the desperate for diversion!  Heck, there could even be "advanced searches" that identify whether any of the guests will be wearing cock cages!

Happy Thanksgiving dear readers! We hope all of you make it through the most caloricly challenging holiday of them all without insulting (or being insulted by) a relative or being disowned.

A UCTMW Thanksgivakkah by the Numbers.

All that's left of Thanksgiving 2013  are a couple of turkey carcasses and the fond memories of family time together where no one came to blows or crossed that imaginary line of impropriety that becomes family legend.

Whew!

Plus we dodged the bullet for the first time in a few years and did not have to host our family and hangers on. So there is no cluttered kitchen for Slave to clean this morning.  Let's review the numbers:

8000- Someone mentioned at the table that this is the first time in 8000 yrs. that Thanksgiving and Hanukkah coincided. But was there really a Thanksgiving (or a Hanukkah) 8000 years ago?  And does anyone really believe that in 79,000 years, when it happens again, those who we leave this planet to will still be celebrating these events? Will Wal-Mart allow it?

13- People at the table last night at Grandma's house. (She had a cool silver bracelet on about 5 inches long that she must have bought from Wonder Woman. No, she's not your typical Grandma).

9- Pies driven in from Chicago. Yummy.

8- Times Mistress's sister used the word "Colonoscopy". At least when I was in the room. With two MDs and at least one hypocondriac at the table, it seemed we spent a lot of table talk time on medical procedures.

6- Bottles of wine consumed.

3- Dogs circling around, looking for scraps.

2- Dogs dressed  in leopard print hoodies. I mean, it was cold here yesterday. Where's George Zimmerman when you need him?

2- Times Mistress got to cum yesterday. (At least when I was around...one with our morning sex... once before our afternoon pre-pig-out nap, when Slave ministered to her clean shaven folds).

1- Times Slave got to cum. Once is enough for an overeating, pampered house Slave, don't you think?

We hope all of our followers state side had a pleasantly non-disasterous Thanksgiving too!

Thanksgiving 2011: The Good, The Bad and the Ugly

The good part of our day was very very good:

First there was some leisurely morning sex. When Mistress called her Slave up to the Executive Suite I came armed with the morning papers, and we lingered a while catching up with the mostly grim news of the week.

But soon it was time to turn to the blog, and as Mistress read, I plied those clean shaven folds with my highly practiced lips and tongue until Mistress was squirming with pent up desire. When she put the laptop aside I zeroed in for the "kill" and had Mistress spilling over into a nice starter cum.

Of course, by now Slave was fully capable of assuming my preferred position, but Mistress was in no rush, she cuddled close, her soft hand wrapping itself around my needy work-a-day cock, and pumping it slowly to a state of high alert. It took a good deal of begging and squirming on my part to persuade her that my engorged tool had a higher and better use than losing its cool in the palm of her hand.

But finally she succumbed to my pleas and once I had burrowed inside, I made sure to show my gratitude by delivering her an extra climax or two before begging for permission to come.

After that it was up and into our holiday. I did get to spend the morning with my cute grandsons, who always amaze with their ability to charm, as well as create the basis for a feud among themselves.  I mean when confronted with a bowl of pita chips, does it make sense to fight about who gets to eat a particular chip?  As we shall see, this must just be training for family thanksgivings to come....

Sadly, the grandsons and their mom and dad had committed to TG dinner with a splinter wing of the family, So it goes. So I dropped them off, and then headed downtown to pick up the turkeys and dressing we had pre-ordered for our family feast. (Lazy, I know, but we've found our friend makes TG goodies every bit as yummy as we can make with so much less hassle).

When I got home, Mistress was napping in bed, and I joined her for what turned into a long and leisurely nap. Ahhh..... the calm before the storm.

After we struggled back to life, I went for a vigorous bike ride (Mistress had gotten hers in already), in a desperate if likely to be fruitless effort to enhance my metabolism before confronting the feast to come.

By now it was time to turn our attention to the final preparation for our meal, with guests arriving even earlier than invited, clogging the kitchen as I prepared my contribution - sliced carrots prepared in an Irish style I had cribbed from Bon Apetite years ago.

Now we were deep into the Bad and Ugly phase of the day.

I won't bore our audience with the details of the petty behaviors that poisoned a good chunk of our Thanksgiving feast. I'm sure it was no worse than what many of you deal with. And, as planned, most of our guests were out the door within three hours. That's really no worse than a morning at the office dealing with an unpleasant client or task, is it?

And the food was good.

But to dish a little, here are some highlights:

-Molly's Mom, in a huff most of the evening in advance, because after spending this evening with the extended family, Mistress was unwilling to commit to devote her Friday and Saturday to other family events scheduled without any advance consultation. Since when has the ritual of the big family Thanksgiving Day turned into Thanksgiving Weekend?


- My Mom, who each year performs the same Stupid Mother Trick: Without me asking, and knowing that Mistress's Mom will bring her own lavishly home made "artisan" pies, with home made whipped cream, brings two store bought pies and a can of cool whip. Then my Mom has "hurt feelings" when the assembled eaters vote with their stomachs and pick the fluffy and beautiful home made pies, rather than her flat and homely store bought pies. So last night, for 11 folks we had a total of 7 pies, and the predictible occurred. Adding insult to injury, someone pirated away the "serving pieces" that my Mom brought for her boring pies, and stuck them into Mistress's Mom's pies..... the horror! My mother required me to clean the whipped cream off of one before I served her a piece of boring pie.

Usually I play the devoted son, and eat the boring pie, but last night I decided to "act out", pouring myself a stiff Bushmill's and boycotting all pies.  I felt liberated by this act of defiance. Lets call it OccupyPie!

- But the prize for this year in the category of "take the thank out of thanksgiving" went to Mistress's sister and brother in law. She's going through a dispute at work, and seems to be in one of those arguments about whether she was fired or quit. Of course, they have a lawyer, but are always shopping for free advice and sympathy too. AS Slave was laboring with the clean up dish washing tasks, they were both in my face badgering and pestering about all the same questions I had answered for them the night before. And when they weren't doing that, they were bickering in front of us all  about what to do and where to go for vacation at Christmas. Maybe I would have been in a better mood about repeating my free advice (which they of course would not take in any event because it was not the advice  they wanted to hear), if they had actually volunteered to help me load the dishwasher!

They were lucky the turkey carcass did not get dumped on their heads!

But it's over now. The crowd is gone. Mistress awaits upstairs, all warm and ready for me. That's something to be thankful for!

As for next year, well.... Donna, do you think the Yurt will be occupied?

I 

HNT / WC claim by the WC?

It was very cold here in River City yesterday morning …. The warmth of our bed won the debate over whether to take that early morning bike ride. So that gave Molly and Mick a little more time than normal to explore bodies and plumb the depths of our desire for one another.

Nice. Very Nice.

But duty called, and our day got away from us after that.

We did get to talk briefly with Aisha on our drive downtown. Glad she seems to have gotten over her early morning blues and heard from D. Wish she was coming to River City for today. We really do need a buffer guest to help us work our way through an afternoon with our extended family B list.

Then there was Work. Lunch with the surly teens downtown at an Italian joint. (They were surprisingly un-surly, probably happy to have a long weekend ahead with minimal parental supervision). And Mistress headed home with them, while I stayed at the office to finish some work before our little trip out West.

Of course, missing from this scenario was the sort of attention that Mistress has come to expect: no opportunity for that mid-day release that she gets sitting on her little throne in my office.

Not to worry.

That’s where our Western Correspondent came in to pick up the slack.

Actually, he’s been earning his keep lately. Writer’s block seems to have cleared for him, and we’ve appreciated his comments and contributions of late. I just hope he doesn’t  decide to free lance once he discovers we are cranking up the employee contribution and deductible on the UCTMW Enterprises Health Care Plan.

Actually, one big concern I have is a potential WC claim by our WC. As in Worker’s Comp.  Mistress read me an email from him yesterday morning describing some damage done to the special occasion cock  Turns out that M had run out of briefs (or is it boxers?). So he wore jeans “commando” for his bike ride. In that cold mountain air.

Youch. 

Been there, burned that.

Nothing like a little  cock abrasion to cramp your style.

M, that sounds like a classic off-duty “frolic and detour”. I don’t want to see a letter from the WC Office in my email inbox with any bogus claim.

But M was not being selfish, yesterday afternoon, despite his disability. M made time for Mistress, who was home. And horny.

Around 3 or so I got a text from Mistress:

“Date with M at 4 pm, Slave….”

“Excellent, Mistress.”

She even called to make sure her Slave was cool with her extracurricular plans.

Of course, I was. Mistress has her needs, and when I am neglectful or other wise preoccupied, it’s only fair that she fill them at her discretion. Don’t you agree?

When I got home, Mistress was on our room, primping for a pre-Thanksgiving dinner at her Mother’s house. (We needed to exercise those stomach muscles to get them more supple and elastic for this afternoon’s feast).

And she seemed…. Satisfied.  I could tell that her lovely folds and the Hitachi had gotten a good work out.

She had that well fucked and content look in her eye.

“Did you enjoy yourself, Mistress?”

“Yes, Slave….”

“And Mike, was he able to handle his injured ‘junk’.”

“No… he was in his office and expecting some type of delivery…”

I suppose it is a little embarrassing to sign for a FedEx delivery with your pants around your ankles.

In any event, we hope that our Western Correspondent enjoys a well deserved holiday with his family and that his recovery from that abrasion is prompt and complete.

We’d hate to have to put him on the Injured Reserve list.  Then he’d be out for the season.

And we hope all of our stateside readers have a great Thanksgiving too!