Well yesterday, inadvertently I suppose. both Slave and Mistress abstained. It’s been a very long time, now that I think of it. A whole day off for both of us.
Our excuse: a very early rise for that 50 mile bike ride. Plus, Mistress’s parts had been excessively used and abused the night before, during and after our long “epic” episode of directed sex ,with M tied in by cell line from across Lake Michigan, acting as the ringmaster.
Come morning, neither one of us could pin down exactly how long we were engaged in those wanton rituals. And when we review the three photos I took at some point – Mistress rubbing her (still!) needy cunt after I left the bed oh so briefly for a piss and hydration – we were so “shocked, shocked” that they ended up as cyber trash. They were too smutty and revealing to even share with M.
At least that’s what Mistress thought.
So when she read yesterday morning’s blog, I did not even consider doing my typical morning worship.
Then it was up and out into the chill lakefront air for that 50 mile bike ride with 5000 other early risers. The event organizers surprised us with a route that seemed to find the only rolling hills in the region. After 4.5 hours in the saddle, we felt like we had accomplished our goal, but at a certain price. The price I paid was sore knees. Mistress had a rather itchy and even more tender tush, as I had predicted.
“I’m not sure I will have sex for several days, Slave!”
“I can understand that Mistress….”
Though I suspect things will be better by this evening.
There were some interesting sights along the way.
The photo above shows where Molly might want to start up her own business someday, should she ever get tired of spin-doctoring. ( And yes, there is a little Eastern European in her gene pool, to balance out the Spanish that gives her that amazingly lush and dark skin tone).
What she found particularly appealing about this business opportunity was that the place was already advertising the availability of “subs”. You may recall that my contract does allow her to acquire others and put me on the block at any time. That sort of trade might supplement income from polish sausage and bait.
At one point a female cyclist pumped past us with what might pass for cyclist fetish wear: short, tight black riding shorts, paired with black thigh high cycling “stockings”, allowing her to show about 4 inches of skin between her “stocking” tops and her shorts.
I had to comment.
“Hmmm. Mistress. Check that out. Pretty hot look!”
“Oh really…. I don’t know that I care for my slave making comments suggesting that other women look hot.”
Opps. I tried my best to back and fill.
“Well it wasn’t her per se that caught my eye, Mistress. I never really got a look at her. I’m saying the ‘look’ is hot… I’d like to see you in that outfit.”
“Good try, Slave.”
So, dear readers – is Slave in trouble? Do I deserve a punishment for calling Mistress’s attention to another woman in that way?
Is it proper for a Slave to let another woman – or in this case – her outfit, catch his eye and comment to his Mistress?
Is this a Jimmy Carter “lust in my heart” sort of moment? (Not a guy Id like to be compared to … I was a Teddy supporter back in 1980).
And is it particularly un-slave like, or just natural?
Let us know what you think.
Now it’s time for me to go upstairs to see how Mistress is recovering from all that tush abuse.
