Cuckolding in the News

 Mistress and slave are on another excursion to visit our daughter in perpetually dark and damp northern Germany. Lots of Gluwhein is required to keep us warm! It's amazing to see Germnas out frolicking at their evening Christmas markets ignoring the cold drizzle at bone chilling temperatures barely warm enough to fend off snow. 

Meanwhile it was amusing to notice some US press that taunted those of us turned on by the cuckold dynamic.  This comes from the Social Q column that appears weekly in the NY Times on Sundays, in which an empathetic gay guy responds to his readers questions on how to handle sticky social matters:

Dear Social Q: 

A friend of mine saw my daughter-in-law in a hotel bar with a man who is not my son. As my friend reported it, my daughter-in-law was dressed to the nines, draped all over the man and feeding him with her fingers. My friend walked over to her and asked, “Where are your husband and the kids?” My daughter-in-law answered calmly, and my friend walked away. This information is making me quite angry and sad. Do I tell my son about it, ask my daughter-in-law or keep it to myself?

MOM

Of course, if you are a fan of cuckolding your mind quickly jumps to the possibility that this unlucky daughter in law was just hot wifing with her cuck hubbie's consent, or at least forebearance. And it turns out that Phillip Galanes, the Social Q. author considered that possibility in his tasteful and delicate response to the angry mother-in-law:

Let’s start with the loving heart of your question: You feel protective of your son and want good things for him. Nothing wrong with that! Now, your friend’s account — though it may be totally accurate — strikes me as the stuff of romance novels: a steamy seduction in a hotel bar. But your daughter-in-law’s nonchalance with your friend tells a different story: Wouldn’t she be flustered if she were caught doing something wrong? Things aren’t adding up here!

So, is your friend trustworthy? If you have doubts, put this matter on hold (for now). If not, and you want your son to know the story, report it to him in a more measured way. Be sure to tell him that you did not witness any of it personally. I would not talk to your daughter-in-law about this. Your relationship with her, even if it’s close, is based on her marriage — the intimate workings of which are none of your business.

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Now, I know that I am threading a dubious needle here: sanctioning meddlesome behavior for the sake of (possibly) mitigating harm. Your son and daughter-in-law may have an arrangement that could explain what your friend saw, and reporting the story may strain your relationship with the couple. Still, if you decide to speak up, try to put aside your own feelings. Your anger and sadness — which I sympathize with — are not the point here.

The author clearly ID'ed the potential scenario here: Was the wife engaging in PDA's with her husband's eager consent?  Was hubby back at home, maybe caged, both anxious and excited about what his hot wife was up to?  Was she (or her companion) sending salacious text messages back to hubby stoking his fire about what was to come?

That's sure where my twisted imagination went.

Cuckold Meme of the Day: Forced to Listen

 Mistress and slave have been traveling of late: first to visit family back in River City for Thanksgiving.  We stayed at the Dowager Domme's house. Sadly she did not wear any of those Dommy shoes or boots featured here over the years.  I guess she's off her game at 85.  Though she still roasts a mean turkey.

We road tripped back to our mountain getaway, got in a few days of early season skiing, and will head 
"across the pond" later this week to visit our youngest in the dark and damp of northern Europe. 

Fortunately, we've been able to sustain our daily diet of wake up sex and afternoon worship despite the challenges of all that travel.  Though the agonizingly thin mattress on the ancient convertible couch in the DD's "dungeon". (aka basement) definitely added to the degree of difficulty while we were in residence there. Fortunately, we are still spry enough to rise to the challenge. 

But no chance for any cuckolding while in the road, not that a few truck drivers didn't ogle Mistress at the endless chain of truck stops and diners we frequented on our long cross country road trip. "Creepy" was Mistress's blunt response. She needs to be wine, dined and seduced, not manhandled. 

Which brings us to today's illustration.  There was only one instance when slave actually witnessed one of her lovers take her on. More typically, she entertained when I was out, or visited her lovers' homes. Then there were the occasional sleep overs at our house, when she took her lover (most often Jay) to our marital bed, and I slept in the guest or a daughter's room next door.  

There I was treated to the sounds of their vigorous love making - typically in multiple rounds interrupted by undecipherable murmuring and giggling. And even sounds of silence, all to be interrupted by another round of loud and physical coupling. 

 It left much to the imagination. And old mick has a very wild imagination.  Was Mistress providing oral services during those moments of relative silence.  What sort of pillow talk were they sharing? How many orgasms was Mistress enjoying.  It sure sounded like a lot, and typically at a volume slave's own efforts rarely, if ever, produced.

With my cage securely in place the "agony" was all the sweeter. 

So don't let anyone tell you that cuckolding requires the sad cuck to sit quietly in a chair and watch. 

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.

Cuckold Meme of the Day: Tender Lady Parts

 The notion that a cuck is supposed to "reclaim" his wife immediately after a date with one of her "side-dishes" sometimes butts up against physical reality in the real world.  At least it did at UCTMW. Slave was always anxious to be sprung free from his cage when Mistress returned from a date. But full blown fucking was rarely in the cards for me so soon after one of her encounters.

"I'm pretty tender down there slave.  But feel free to worship," was the typical response.  And who could blame her? Not her devoted slave.  After an hour or more of a more vigorous brand of sexual engagement than she was used to at home, it was no surprise that she was tender, looking instead to the gentler ministrations of my tongue for solace. 

Thankfully, she was typically game for her husband's work-a-day cock the next morning. 

Cuckolding in History: The Great War Edition

 Just read a new book by Robert Harris called "Precpice", an historic fiction revolving around a real life  affair (of sorts) between 60-ish British Prime Minister H.H. Asquith, a married father of 7, and 26 yr. old Venetia Stanley, a debutante from a wealthy landed family, during the run-up to  WWI. 

Seems Asquith's long suffering wife had been told by her MD that sex was out-of-bounds for her after child birth complications. That left the PM, who had an eye for younger ladies, on the lookout for someone to provide some much needed comfort and companionship as he juggled the demands of mobilizing his country for war. I mean, if you're sending a few hundred thousand young men off to the trenches, shouldn't you be entitled to a little nookie on the side?

He and his much young crush would get together for long Friday afternoon drives in his Limo, apparently with a privacy window shades that would protect them from the eyes of his devoted driver and curious  pedestrians.  There were also weekends at her family's lavish country homes, often  with his jealous "Cuckqueen"  wife in tow, where they might escape for a rendezvous in the gardens. The author speculates that their sexual interactions were limited to "frottage" (i.e. non-penetrative sex) in an age when "unprotected sex" came with far greater risks to a woman of the aristocracy. One can imagine lots of blow jobs and finger fucking in the back of that spacious limo as it meandered through Covent Gardens. 

The aging PM was obsessed with Venetia, to the point of crazy. Over the approximately 24 months of their affair he sent her 560 letters, all of which have survived and which the author quotes in his novel. Apparently there were multiple mail deliveries / day in those days, so 2-3 letters might arrive from him each day. Still living at home, Venitia had to stealthily intercept the post man throughout the day to avoid raised eyebrows from Mom, Dad and her siblings. The PM, between odes of his lust for her, also shared classified  war plans and intelligence, seeking her advice on how to handle the likes of war hawks like the young Winston Churchill, then in charge of the Admiralty. The "Official Secrets Act" was breached on a daily basis. 

Sadly, Venetia's letters were lost to history. Apparently Asquith or his family disposed of them, something Venetia did not do.

The affair petered out as Venetia trained to nurse war wounded "Tommies". She went to France to work at a field hospital.  Ultimately, Venetia  grew impatient with all those cloyingly pathetic  letters from her "Prime" and the pressure to keep up the correspondence.  To pull the plug, she finally accepted the multiple proposals of marriage from a less than macho suitor, Edwin Montagu, one of her contemporaries. He  was a Junior member of Asquith's cabinet.

Mantagu was also fabulously wealthy, which probably helped the PM's young mistress turn the page.  Though she had to convert to Judaism in order to assure that her new husband inherited his Jewish father's wealth.  Whatever. 

Sadly, Asquith did not take the news of this betrothal well.  He had been hopelessly distracted from his governmental duties as Venetia slipped away from his grasp. His government lasted only a few more months after she dumped him, replaced by the uber ambitious Lloyd George. Asquith was the last Liberal PM, as the Tories rose to power. 

Venetia was married to Montagu, but apparently her terms in accepting the proposal included an ongoing hall pass", which gives her something in common with today's "Hot Wives". History says  that Venetia made her new husband a cuck with multiple lovers.  DNA evidence later revealed that  their daughter was actually fathered by some other upper-crust dude titled the "Earle of Dudley".  No Do-Right he!

 

Cuckold Meme of the Day: Post Date Clean-Up

 Slave is back after a short weekend trip to the nation's capitol to visit a daughter.  Mistress was left to her own devices here, a rarity. Sounds like she had a good enough time with friends, including two nights out at local watering holes for music. Sadly, and despite her permanent "hall pass", she had no interactions with tall and potent strangers to share with me when I got home. As I've said before, this is a small town with limited options and also the risk of wagging tongues about a married lady flaunting her infidelities. 

Ah well.

The above photo reminds me of days some years back when Mistress had some early morning or mid-day encounters with a tall buff dude, 5-6 years her junior, who played hockey in college and in an adult league in River City.  He'd sometimes stop by for a "quicky" on his way to work, and as I was leaving for my own office. It was like a tag team for us. I'd greet him as he came in and I headed out.  Mistress could just stay in bed and enjoy.  And when I came home, my afternoon worship might include a little treat.

"I haven't showered yet, Slave."

Fine by me. 

Cuckold Meme of the Day: Sharing a Taste.

 Sure it's a cliche. But whenever Mistress returned from a date I was always happy, even anxious, to "reclaim" her clean shaven folds with my well trained tongue.  Mistress was never fond of condoms, typically graduating to "bare back" once a lover became something more than a one-off. So Slave was able to enjoy not only the taste of her stretched and well used lady parts, but also the residue of whatever her lover du jour left behind. 

This typically happened before, not after her slave's cage was unlocked. Not sure what it is about this little ritual, but it always seemed to be a turn on for both of us.  And while I suspect there were some nights when Mistress would have been happy to simply nod off after a long night of hot sex, I think she knew she had some obligation to share her experience with my in a physical way that transcended the narrative of her evening that typically came as I laved her with my tongue.  While the resulting orgasm hardly overshadowed those she had experienced with her lover, it was a her way of showing me that I remained an important part of the game.

Cuckold Meme of the Day: Sleepovers.

 It's been quite a while since Mistress spent the night away from home with one of her lovers.  Back in the day it happened quite often.  There was that guy who lived in the small college town where our daughter attended college.  That was always a trick: might they run onto one another?  What would Mom's alibi be?

Mistress usually came home before noon the next day, having enjoyed sexy times with her younger (by 10 years) lover. Untimately he wanted more of her time than she could provide - weekends away as an example. And she drifted away from him.

Then there was Jay - her longest term lover.  There typical date night involved dinner out, always a risk they might run into someone we knew, but never seemed to happen. Then they'd adjourn to his small home out in a tony suburb.  His young son would spend the night at his grandmother's house to allow Jay and Mistress a night of fun.  Slave was home, caged, pondering what the two might be up to in his bed.

Hot times!

Cuckolding in History: WW2 Edition

 For those who think this whole "cuckold" thing is some new twist in the world of sexual gamesmanship, I would refer you to a new book recently reviewed in the New Yorker titled "Kingmaker: Pamela Harriman's Astonishing Life of Power, Seduction and Intrigue".  The book documents the remarkable  life of a woman who grew up in one of those posh Downton Abbey style households then married Randolph Churchill, son of England's pugnacious Prime Minister on the cusp of World War II. 

Here's where it got interesting: With the blitz in progress, a new born little Winston (jr.) Churchill on the scene, her husband, in uniform, was shipped off to Egypt. But Pamela had a more important role in the Britts' war effort.  Clementine, her mother-in-law,  "noticed Pamela's power over older men (including her husband) through a rare cocktail of flattering attention, smoldering sex appeal and an impressive grasp of geopolitics". 

Little Winston and her nanny were shipped off to the "safer" confines of the country estate of "Lord" Beaverbrook, the Rupert Murdock of his time, who had taken on a job in the war effort to maximize airplane production.  The child care arrangement allowed "an unencumbered Pamela to move into the Dorchester Hotel, in London, and work her magic on influential Americans", who Churchill needed to provide US support for the struggle against Hitler. Beaverbrook "would outfit her for her mission . . . with a wardrobe of 'tight fitting evening frocks, high heals and natty tailored suits to help her in her new role in Britain's desperate struggle to survive."

US President Roosevelt sent W. Averell Harriman, 49,  to London to monitor the use of US "lend lease" aid by our ally. Harriman "would require some tender persuasion and Pamela, now barely in her 20's, was up for the job. "At a dinner at the Dorchester soon after [Harriman's] arrival, Pamela, wearing a 'skin tight shoulderless gold lame dress bought specially for the occasion by Beaverbrook and dazzilingly conversant in matters military and political."  That evening, a fortuitous Luftwaffe bombing had Pamela and Averell 'sheltering in place' in his hotel suite.  The rest was history. Soon Pamela moved in with FDR's envy.  Both were married to others. 

As in some of the hotter cuckold fiction of our day, the cuckoldress's in-laws seemed to encourage her dalliance to the deterrent of their pathetic son.  "The Churchill's seem to have known and tacitly encouraged their daughter-in-law's useful affair. Years later, in a divorce proceeding, Randolph accused his parents of encouraging her infidelity for the sake of the war effort. Ouch!

Was Churchill "pimping out" the mother of his grandson, as some have accused?  During the war years, Pamela   juggled multiple relationships with US military big wigs and media personalities like Edward R. Murrow. But despite all these suitors, Pamela made her own decisions on her sexual partners. "Pamela said no when she wanted to, and it appears she she never had her heart broken. She seemed to feel completely free to sleep with whomever she was drawn to or deemed useful. . . . By her own account, she relished her London life, supercharged as it was with danger, sex and political urgency."

After the war and her divorce, Pamela moved to Paris and was involved with an Italian auto magnate. Later she 
married a US movie mogul. When her husband died, she and Harriman hooked up again, and married, She moved to the US and, later in life, became a power broker in DC's Democratic establishment.  She died as US Ambassador to France in the Clinton years. 

But for those of us intrigued by the cuckold dynamic, her WW2 exploits standout. One can only wonder whether "poor" Randolph secretly got off on it all.  Let's hope.

Cuckold Meme of the Day: Oral Service

 Last post I mentioned one of Mistress's first cuckolding bootie calls.  The one where she was asked to do a little extra grooming.  She got carried away, and has sported clean shaven folds ever since. 

His other directive?

"He wants me to bring a pair of handcuffs, slave."

Hmmm.  We had long dabbled in bondage.  We had some equipment of our own.  Still do.  Cuffs, collars, crops. In our pre-cuckolding days, Mistress was usually the "victim" of such toys.  And though we've shifted the axis of our relationship since then, the bdsm toys have remained in a duffel bag tucked into a corner of our closet.  I suppose we should find an excuse to dust them off. 

Going back to that "directive". . . we stopped by a local army / navy store and picked up a simple pair of handcuffs before Mistress went to her first meet up with this gentleman.

She had made clear to me, and to him, that during this first get together, at his home in the 'burbs, there would be no sex.  This was a "get to know you" arrangement, she said, and clearly intended.

To set the right tone, Mistress did not overdue her outfit. Sure she had sexy, silky undies.  But it was jeans and a less revealing top. Nothing too provocative, it seemed as she set out early on a Friday evening. 

Mistress was off the radar for several hours.  I stayed busy at home, caged of course, probably making dinner for at least one of our daughters, who were in high school at the time. 

It was around 11:30, maybe midnight, when Mistress came home. A tad disheveled. Of course, I was curious. But resisted my lawerly urge to cross examine.

"Long evening, slave."

"And how did it go. Did you use those handcuffs?"

She was undressing, using our bathroom to go through her re-sleep routines. 

"Definitely", she remarked, focused on her image in the bathroom mirror, then sliding into a slinky nightie.

As she settled into bed, I offered to provide some post-date worship. 

"Are you sure?  It's a little sticky down there, slave."

"Oh?"

"Yeah.  We got a little carried away."

As she spread her legs in our bed, and I dipped ian eager tongue into what was clearly  well used if cleanly groomed folds, she provided the following narrative:

After sharing a beverage on his patio, they adjourned to his bedroom. So much for a simple getting to know you first meeting.

"He told me to strip, slave."

"And you did?"

"I did.  He just sat there on the bed, and watched me."

"Sounds hot."

"It was."  She let out a slight moan, possibly from my gentle oral ministrations. But also, maybe, from the recall of being inspected for the first time by a new partner as she did her slow reveal.

"Then?"

He stood, walked to me, cuffs in his hands. He touched me. gently. Somehow I ended up with my hands cuffed, behind my back."

As I slowly brought Mistress to a gentle cum, I could taste the residue of what her new lover had left behind. The story got a little disjointed, and my memory has faded over the years about all the details.  But she "submitted" to some robust sex in his bed that evening. And before she left, after she was dressed to leave, a  chaser back out on his patio. 

"I was on my knees, slave. He was ready to go again. He wanted my mouth."

Apparently he got it.

My work done, Mistress was soon sound asleep.

As for me, I recall that it wasn't until morning that Mistress found the key to my cage. 

Cuckold Meme of the Day: Listen but No Watching?

 With a single exception this was the game plan at the Molly and mick manse in River City: Mistress would sometimes have a sleepover "guest".  Her devoted slave would occupy our daughter's room next door (by then the  daughters had flown the nest). The walls were thin.  I was typically caged, to avoid any unsanctioned self abuse as I listened in to their enthusiastic coupling.  One thing became all too obvious: Jay (and the occasional "other") could induce much more enthusiastic sounds from Mistress than I could with my "work-a-day" cock. Was she exaggerating her responses for my benefit? Could be, but I doubt it. 

Our typical husband / wife sex, still a daily morning ritual, was more gentle and loving. Yes, Mistress would be lavished with a few cums/session.  Still is.  But there was/is no athleticism involved. No rhythmic slaps of flesh on flesh, and endless moans from Mistress. Of course, all of this listening in could be enticing, exciting and frustrating for a caged slave.  

But once the lover de jour went on his way - typically after I served him coffee in the morning - slave always got his turn, even though Mistress was frequently tuckered out and tender.  

She was and always has been an indulgent Mistress. 

Day at the Hot Springs

 Mistress and her devoted slave spent the day yesterday at a nearby hot springs resort, perched beneath a ridge once populated by hundreds of native people, who have only left behind thousands of shards of their colorful pottery.

It seems Mistress will never outgrow her desire to bask in the sun, something her Mediterranean complexion accepts with tolerance.  Me, not so much.  But I am happy to indulge her desires in this and so many other ways.

The hot springs excludes kids, but always has a robust crowd of mostly middle age to older customers, many covered in exotic tattoos.  I had to smile as a few heavily inked guys in the their 30's and 40's wandered past Mistress, their eyes unsubtly lingering on Mistress's delicious legs and bottom.  Not bad for someone getting closer to her Medicare years! 

It reminded me of a story Mistress told me from a trip to the Springs last summer, with her Mom (the Dowager Domme) and her sister.  They spent the night in a cozy cottage, and She got up early for some lap swimming. At pool side she was chatted up by a younger man - cute she reported - who seemed interested in learning more about her "situation".  Sparks were beginning to fly, she said. Then . . . her mother and sister arrived, impatient, wanting to get their breakfast.  Sadly, contact info was not exchanged and she never spotted him there before they departed.

But at least she was willing to explore. 

Cuckold Meme of the Day: So is Your Hubby Really OK With This?

 Not sure that Mistress ever said exactly this to any of her lovers.  But I suspect there was always a conversation that went something like this:

"So is your husband really OK with this?"

"Yeah.  He is. He says it turns him on. And we always have hot sex when I come home after one of these nights."

I suspect they all had different reactions to this.  Maybe some were a little jealous.  If they had developed feelings for Mistress, the thought of her coming home to be reclaimed by her cuck was probably a little annoying. But most just shook their head, and, hopefully, knew they had lucked into a pretty sweet deal. 

Mistress Hears from A Long Lost Suitor

Strangely enough, after my post last week about Mistress texting with her suitors, she had heard from "E", one of the guys who kicked off our adventures in cuckoldry about 15 years ago. She dated E in her college days at a small liberal arts college in Michigan. He went on to become an attorney, and, as I recall it all, he got in touch with her back in 2009 or so.  They began to text and he soon was reminiscing about how hot she was and what he'd like to do with (and to) her so many years later, if he only had a chance.

Not surprisingly, he was married, and Mistress generally avoids getting involved with married guys, even though it was in the early days of her "hall pass". And yet?

Here was a guy she knew from the "old days".  They'd had sex "a few times" in her Junior year. And as their texting back and forth proceeded, there were undeniable sparks flying. I remember her reading me some of those texts.  He clearly had the Dom thing going.  "he wants to spank me, slave." And how did that make her feel?  "It's hot, slave...."

Sadly, not much ever came of it.  He claimed to have  reasons to come to River City for business, but it never quite happened.  Ultimately, Mistress wrote it off to just some horny guy remotely rekindling a college romance, but not willing or able to make anything happen IRL.

Now, years later, suddenly they were back in touch. The trigger was Mistress's realization that E (who she still sees on Facebook) was also friends with one of her Facebook friends here near our SW Hideaway. "He says he still wants to spank me". But her past experience with E back in 2009 makes her think it's all BS.  If he never made it down to see her when we lived in the heartland, what are the odds of him actually showing up here, or arranging to meet her somewhere convenient for her.  

"Plus he's still married, slave.  Just to someone else now."  

Seems to close that door, but I do think it gives her a little thrill to know there's someone out there itching to spank her. 

 

Cuckold Meme of the Day: Texting with Her Lovers

 One of the hottest things about our more active cuckolding days was when Mistress had an active cyber flirting life with her lover(s) du jour. 

Maybe she was just texting with a work colleague, or her sister, but it was fun to speculate that she was texting with J or M or one of her other "friends with benefits". Were they setting up a date, were they reminiscing about their most recent encounter.  Was she getting instructions on how to edge herself at a time and location he determined?  The possibilities in the mind of her loyal cuck were endless. 

Sometimes she'd give me an update about what her lover was saying to her.  Sometimes she'd ask for advice on how to respond. Other times, she'd just smile laschivously at a message when her I-phone chimed.  I did my best to resist asking who she was texting with.  My favorite response, if I did: "None of your business, Slave. . . "

Cucks in the News

 If you've been following this blog, whether for a decade or just for a few months, you know this is where  "Cucks" can feel they have a safe place to relish sharing their hot wives, partners or significant others with whoever might catch their  lustfully roving eyes. We wear the label "cuck" with a certain kinky pride!

Sadly, for some the word "cuck" has become a slur, particularly in the world of right wing politics. 

Earlier this week a group of celebrities  rallied in a well subscribed zoom call under the name of "White Dudes for Harris", in support of the presumptive Democratic Presidential nominee, who could become the first female President. The call, which featured  "dudes" like Bradley Whitford, Mark Hamill and various Bridges bros, drew in nearly 100,000 participants and raised a few million dollars for the Harris campaign.

Of course, this "White Dudes" cyber get-together  took direct aim at former President Trump's core support among white male voters.  

Don't mess with their base! 

So it was no surprise when MAGA world responded with their typical overheated outrage, led by Junior:

 MAGA World's instinctive response to any guy who might support a strong female candidate for POTUS is to question their masculinity, and likely have wives forced to find a real (presumably MAGA) man to satisfy their sexual needs. 

But a lot of  willing "Cucks" proudly share our wives to provide them with additional sexual gratification and actually get off on it too!  Maybe we really should form a "Proud Cucks for Kamala" group of our own?

This is not the first Trumpian effort to alienate strong women and the men who love them.  What about the quote from VP candidate J.D. Vance, disparaging "childless cat ladies" as miserable losers unworthy of elective office.  He and Trump have doubled down on the notion that there must be something wrong with a woman who loves her  cat,  but who has not (yet) reproduced.  This from the same team that believes they can tell women they should not be allowed make their own decisions about whether to carry a pregnancy to full term. 

In the MAGA world view, the only proper role for women appears to be to stay home and raise the kids.  God forbid women might exercise some degree of sexual freedom outside their marriage, even when their loyal hubby gives them a free pass.

Of course, as proud parents with two cat nurturing daughters who have not (yet) brought any grandkids into our world, i.e., "childless cat ladies", we  take personal umbrage against Vance's disparagement of our daughters. Whether or not they chosoe to reproduce, they are wonderful citizens of the world as far as we are concerned. Heck, we love our cat too!

But this made me wonder: How does Vance feel about childless dog guys? Like this one:

They seem to have been given a free pass. 

Cuckold Meme of the Day: Cuckolding PDA's

 Back in River City we were always pretty discrete about Mistress's extracurricular relationships. Both she and I had fairly high profile jobs in those pre-retirement years. We didn't need rumors about Mistress caught "fooling around" in public with someone other than her hubby.

But that didn't mean that she made no "public appearances" with her lovers.  She and J (her longest relationship) would often meet publicly for dinner or lunch, then retreat to his house or ours for  more intimate activities.

Of course, I always knew when and where they would be meeting for one of these "dates". Usually they picked a site closer to his home out in the 'burbs, where they would be less likely to encounter one of our friends or colleagues. I stewed at home or work while she was meeting publicly with a lover. But it was easy  to imagine they might be seen by someone who would raise an eyebrow or two. And could they really resist the tell tale body language of lovers- some hand holding, intimate touches, simmering eye contact; maybe an under the table grope or Mistress's wandering foot under the table.

Would someone ask "Why is Molly Collins having dinner on a Friday night with someone other than her husband"?  

As far as I know, no rumors ever flew about her back in those days.  But who knows..... 

Cuckold Meme of the Day: Cut Off by the Bull?

 

None of Mistress's lovers over the years  seemed to mind that she and her Cuck continued to have a robust sex life, regardless of her activities with her various "side-dishes". Indeed, her extracurricular sex life seem to pour a powerful accelerant onto our own sexual activities. 

Why didn't any of her "bulls" ever try to crack down on us? My guess is they were not really bulls.  Just nice guys who figured they were lucky to have their occasional chance to "get lucky" with a hot babe who's husband seemed crazy enough to grant her a hall pass.  I suppose some real "Bulls" out there might have been a tad more controlling.  

Or are guys like that really creations of cuckold fantasies, not actually found in the wild?  Thoughts....

Cuckold Meme of the Day: What She Brings Home

 After a date, or when her lovers went home after a sleepover, my privilege was to graze through her clean shaven folds and sample the scents and flavors left behind. 

Cuckold Meme of the Day: House Guest

 Reminds us of all those nights (or mornings) when Mistress "entertained" lovers at our home, and her cuck served dinner, drinks and morning coffee.