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?
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