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. 

Cuckold Meme of the Day: a Cuck's Post- Date Duty

 Coming home late at night from a date with one of her lovers, Mistress was often way too tired to allow her Cuck/slave to have my way with her.  But was never  too tired for my tongue.  If I did a good enough job she might unlock my cage.

More?

 As Mistress and her cuckold/slave languish in blissful retirement here at our SW hideaway, the world moves on, particularly when it comes to kink.  When we stepped into the world of female led relationships and cuckoldry way back when this blog was launched in 2009, we thought we were groundbreakers.  But now.... so much more mainstream.

Poly and cuckold lifestyles are becoming ho-hum.  Example: a recent New Yorker article titled How Did Polyamory Become So Popular? which reviews some recent books describing how widespread the phenomenon of spouses "opening up" their marriage has become.  Example:

 What are all these open couples, throuples, and polycules suddenly doing in the culture, besides one another? To some extent, art is catching up with life. Fifty-one per cent of adults younger than thirty told Pew Research, in 2023, that open marriage was “acceptable,” and twenty per cent of all Americans report experimenting with some form of non-monogamy. 

One of the books highlighted is "More", the memoir of Molly Roden WInter, a  Brooklyn wife describing she and her hubbie's sexual adventures in an open marriage while juggling jobs and parental duties.  

One passage describes how the couple  began their sexual adventures. In a huff, Molly goes for a walk  while hubby watched the kids, and stopping at a local pub.

Inside, she meets Matt, a younger man who buys her a few rounds of I.P.A.s. The description of him is generic: tall, jeans, hair. Their conversation is devoid of even the slimmest fragment of witty banter. This is a lust born of deprivation and desperation. She gives Matt her number, and by the time she’s home he’s sent her a text message, which Stewart spies. It turns out that he’s turned on. Matt becomes the couple’s marital lubricant. In bed, Stewart imagines that Matt is probably somewhere “thinking about what he wishes he’d done to you,” he tells his wife, before brushing his fingers across her panties. Roden Winter is riveted: “ ‘Fuck me’ I say, for perhaps the first time in our married life.”

That brings to mind how we stumbled upon the heat of cuckoldry here at UCTMW.  We had decided to enter into a Mistress / Slave contract and this lazy Slave searched for on-line forms to  avoid "reinventing the wheel" (a lawyer trick). One form specified the  Mistress's right to freely use her body with other partners. Of course, the slave had no such rights.  As I typed that language into the contract, there was that tell tale sign of arousal.  Turns out the thought of free lovin' also turned on Molly.  And off we went . . .

When I pointed out a review of "More" to Mistress, she quickly ordered it up on her Kindle.  Molly is a quick reader and she gave me a thumbnail review on a chair lift last week.

"We could have written that book, slave....."

"How so?"

"She had a lot of the same ups and downs we did.  Some fun along the way, but also a lot of hassle and angst....all those 'interviews' of guys who turned out to be duds. Getting 'ghosted' every now and then.  And worrying about whether the kids would find out."

"Did her kids ever find out?"

"At some point their son figured out something was going on.  The husband had to explain."

"Ouch". 

"Luckily we didn't have that problem."

That we were aware of....

Mistress's adventures occurred - for the most part - while our kids were off to college or living out of town. That was not the case for the Brooklyn Molly, as this passage from the NY Times review describes:

"Winter is at her home in Brooklyn. She has just had sex with her boyfriend while her two children sleep upstairs. Her husband, Stewart, consented to her tryst, but feeling guilty, she dashes naked into the kitchen to text him: Don’t worry, she writes, “he has nothing on you as a lover.” But instead of texting her husband, she accidentally sends the message to her boyfriend, who leaves in a huff, and later breaks up with her. Winter, devastated, begs her husband to come home to comfort her."

My Molly had several lovers share the marital bed with her, but never with our kids in residence. Way too risky. And I was usually in the house, other than those times when a lover dropped by for a  morning quickie after (or just before) her caged cuckold headed off to work.

 I reminded Molly that there was a big difference between the couple in "More", or typical polyamory, and what has gone on at UCTMW.

"Big difference.  Her husband had his own female 'side-dishes'. 

"True slave.  She seemed to resent that he was having more extracurricular fun than she was."

" I guess that's the advantage of keeping a husband  caged?"

"So true, slave. So true."

Cuckold Meme of the Day: Clean-Up in Marital Bed

 Another flashback: Brings to mind all those times when the cuck had the chance to gently salve Mistress's clean shaven folds after a long and "stressful" sleepover with one of her lovers. If I did a good job, Mistress might even unlock her work-a-day cock.

Cuckold Meme of the Day

 This makes the cuck flashback to those nights when Mistress's lover slept over and I served coffee in the morning. 

A Kinky "Curse"

 After a long and emotionally draining mission on family business to Europe through Christmas, Mistress and slave have been hunkering down at our Southwest Hideaway these last three weeks, spending some time on the ski slopes and avoiding too much socializing here in our small high desert town. A typical day   features our daily "wake up sex", mornings on our nearby ski hill, lunch at home, afternoon "nap time" with our cat, usually topped off with some oral worship for Mistress. 

That leaves plenty of evening time for us to kill, typically in front of the TV, fire blazing, catching up on some of the movies and streaming series we had missed while away. Yes, kind of boring, but also comforting after too many weeks on the road.

One of those is a Showtime Series called "The Curse" starring Emma Stone and Nathan Fielder as two married do-gooding, if delusional, real estate developers gentrifying a very real town -- Espanola, about an hour down the highway from us.  It's fun to see a series using locales that we drive past regularly.  The script is snarky and satirical. The background actors sure seem like the cast of colorful oddball characters we see in these parts everyday.

What we were not expecting was a hot and kinky sex scene in the first episode that teases out some cuckold and humiliation fantasies you don't normally see in the mainstream media. The set-up was a scene of Fielder taking a whiz, brandishing  what by any stretch of the imagination is a remarkably tiny male tool. (Mistress's reaction: "Yuck. Gross".) Then there was an uncomfortable  conversation between the husband and his father-in-law, where it comes out that the wife had discussed the husband's "tiny cock" with her family.  The Father-in-law  confesses he has a comparable issue,  and advises to "embrace" his shortcoming and "Be the Clown".

The action quickly shifts to the couple's bedroom.  Stone is lying back on the bed, in the throws of sexual passion as her husband, on his knees, works away with what seems to be the sort of Magic Wand slave often deploys on Mistress.  Hubbie is wanking away with the hand not wielding the Hitachi.  

As they simultaneously come to their orgasmic threshold, Stone repeatedly  invoke the name of  the absent (possibly imaginary) "Steven" who is apparently the third party "Bull" who's imaginary cock is  fueling their mutual masturbatory frenzy.   Yikes.  This was not previewed in the series trailers! 

This should be a link to the actual scene. (You can also search for it in Google images with the terms "The Curse Masturbation scene").

Not sure many "vanilla" viewers figured out what the hell was going on here. But for those of us with a little familiarity with the world of cuckoldry - whether "IRL" or simply in the fantasy realm, "WOW."

Afterwards, as the credits ran, Mistress and I unpacked what we had seen.

"At least my 'work-a-day' cock is not that small Mistress...."

"At least", slave. 

Morning Has Broken?

Or is it Morning IS Broken? Hate to dredge up an old Cat Stevens song, but I was searching for some catchy way to kick off yet another re-boot of the UCTMW blog. And for those of you concerned, yes, Mistress and slave's wake up (morning) sex is still a daily ritual here at the SW hideaway.  But, sadly, there has not been much kinky or cuckold sex going on here at the hideaway. We spent a little too much time in Europe last year with our lovely daughters. And we are still confronted with the problem finding suitable playmates here in our small high desert town.

Not for lack of trying. We still have a profile on Collarspace, and a seemingly dormant profile on Fetlife.  But not much action.

There was one couple who responded to our Fetlife post a while back.  She was about Molly's age. He was about 10 years younger and purported to be a "Dom".  Mistress seemed potentially smitten by him at first. There was a meet over drinks encounter, then a laid back dinner at our house, where the wife expressed what we took to be an expression of interest in moving forward. And while we had never gotten involved with a couple, slave was willing to "take one for the team". But the husband seemed to fade into the background as she took the initiative going forward. It seemed she wanted to get into Molly's pants. Bottom line, it never panned out. 

More recently we got an overture from a guy on Collarspace from a nearby town who seemed age and interests compatible with Mistress. But when we agreed to exchange photos via gmail, all we got were dick picks. 

Yuck! Mistress does not judge potential partners (solely) on the dimensions of their tool. Turns out he was also married and needed to keep any relationship hush hush.  That would never work for Mistress, who is too experienced to want to play "hide-and-seek".

But then came another candidate from that same nearby town who put himself forward. The profile seemed to have potential until you came to the age line.

"Slave, he's half my age.  Younger than our two kids. That would never work".  And who is the lowly cuckold to question Mistress's judgment?

But then....that last candidate persisted.  Maybe it doesn't lead to anything smutty, he proposed, let's get to know one another.  That led to a chain of emails where he shared some of his interests and experiences, and the cuck reciprocated.  This youngster also demonstrated a clever turn of phrase and healthy sense of humor, something I know Mistress always appreciates as much as skills under the sheets. (Heck, how else did she end up with me?)

He asked about our experiences and interests, and I was candid.  I was also curious about how he got into the whole cuckold thing.

"I have been involved with couples before. I was introduced to the lifestyle in college when a girl came on to me. I knew she had a boyfriend, so I asked what the deal was and she explained. I've always had dominant tendencies, particularly in the bedroom, so it came naturally to me. From there I didn't always seek out couples, but often had an eye out and have had a few dynamics (though, like you, it has been a little while). She had a wild streak, he was on the submissive side. He was basically along for the ride. It was an excellent learning experience and jumping off point for bigger and better adventures for me."

Now that was a surprise to me.  I always thought the whole cuckolding thing popped up when more mature married couples decided to spice things up.  It was hard to imagine that as a college age guy I would get off on sharing my girl friend. And yet, I have noticed some fiction out there focusing in college campus cuckolds. Who knew it really happened?

When he pressed us on more details on our own experiences, I took the easy way out and pointed him to this blog, though it had been dormant for a while.  He seemed to enjoy and had some interesting reactions. 

"It's intriguing to read a blog written by clearly educated people. I find it easier to connect with similarly educated, intelligent, and curious people.

"For some reason I am (pleasantly) surprised by the amount of power exchange in your blog. Somehow I got the sense that you were not as into that sort of thing. It is definitely up my alley. The pinned list of wants for a part-time Dom describes me to a T (except I'm short a few years, but we've established that)."

Of course, Slave is easily flattered when someone takes a shine to our collective works here at UCTMW. And I was intrigued by some of his perceptive follow up comments. Like these:

"I was additionally surprised to find a level of "forced bi" play in your blog posts. I'm not sure why you guys struck me as more buttoned up initially.

I love forced bi dynamics for the same reason you guys do, or at least professed to in the posts I enjoyed last night. I am not attracted to men in any way, but find exerting my dominance over both hotwife and cuckold extremely erotic. Sharing a tender moment with the wife while cuckie cleans our juices off my cock, laughing with her as we make "him" prepare me for her, and seeing her face twist as I have her administrate a particularly cruel torment on my behalf are all some of my favorites."

As the conversation progressed, I told him all this had gotten me interested in re-booting the blog, and would he mind us sharing some of these communications with our "massive" devoted readership. (If you are still out there!) He agreed and even proposed some terms and conditions, including some rearrangements on the masthead, indexing upgrades and "Not to push my luck too hard, but I think it's only right that Mick only be referred to as "the cuckold" or some variation thereof (e.g. cucky, cucklette, sissy, etc.) from now on."

All that seemed reasonable to "the cuckold" and a reasonable price to pay for the inspiration to relaunch the blog, which, has always been a helpful accelerant for Mistress and her cuck's wake up sex.

We even mulled over what to call "him", on the blog seemed to agree on "Nascent Bull" (NB) reflecting both his age, his experiences  and his aspirations. 

Of course, the jury is out on whether Mistress will ultimately stick to her initial judgment that  he is "way too young". It's her call on whether to open that door, or keep it closed. But at the least, all this might lead to some interesting blog posts. 

Curious to hear from any readers still clicking on this link to know what they think about the potential "young dom" tames "cougar hot wife" scenario. 

 

Back to "Civilization"

 There were no middle of the night visits by Mistress to her slave's solo tent that Sunday night.  I was left to see their shadows in sexy motion inside the tent, until their electric lamp was extinguished.  Those shadows and the muffled sounds of passion that emerged from across our camp site led me to conclude that Scott effectively dealt with any pent up passions he might have  accrued as Mistress squirmed on his lap through her "punishment".  And knowing Mistress (and the sounds she makes in the throes) I was sure she enjoyed at least a few more cums as she relieved Scott of any pent up demand. 

The next morning, as I prepared our last coffees and breakfast on the trail, Mistress emerged sheepishly from her tent, undies restored and hands no longer bound. 

She gave me an affectionate kiss and gentle hug, but shared little more than "Hot night, Slave.....I'll share more details later...."

Scott was out of their tent shortly after, gratefully taking the coffee I handed him. "Your Mistress is a handful, Mick. You're a lucky man."

"Agreed". 

Soon we were all on task breaking camp -- rolling up sleeping bags and tents, and filling up our packs.  It was only 8:30 am or so, but the sun was already breaking over the rim. Mistress had gotten back into her hiking pants and boots. It was just about time to hit the trail. We were heading back up to the rim and our "real life". Scott was venturing solo further into the Canyon for a few more days. Time to say our farewells. 

Back packs on, Mistress and Scott exchanged a lingering hug and passionate kiss or two.  Tongue seemed to be engaged on both of their parts as their bodies melded together for a final time, his hands gripping her ass possessively. But if there was a morning "quickie" inside their tent before we broke camp, Slave may have slept through it. 

Obviously, I was anxious to hear Mistress's play-by-play once Scott took his own separate path down the trail. Before we parted, Scott gave me another of those firm handshakes, as his left hand gripped  my shoulder.

"Thanks for your hospitality, Mick", he said with another of those smirks.  I guessed he was still genuinely confused about how a husband could give free rein to his hot wife, and actually seem to enjoy it.  Understandable. 

"It was a fine time for all", is all I could muster.  

Then we parted, with Mistress and slave re-covering the 4.5 miles back up the Bright Angel Trail to the rim. Somehow we had worked our way back into shape over the last two days, so our uphill journey, despite the heavy packs, seemed less exhausting than our Saturday morning descent had been. 

During breaks for trail mix and water, and while walking side by side on the trail, we did a mutual debrief on our eventful weekend. 

"So what happened in that tent last night, Mistress?"

"Well you'll be happy to learn he kept my hands tied most of the night....I think he got off on being in charge.  He even figured away to stake me down to one of those tent poles for a while, 'torturing' me with his tongue and fingers. He was driving me crazy, making me beg to cum again."

"Awww, poor Mistress."

"Then there was some cock riding with me on top for a change. Got to say I'm a little tender down there."

"How long did this go on?"

"Hard to tell. We probably dozed off for a while after the first round.  And we talked some before another round."

"What did you talk about?"

"Hmmm.... he was interested in some things he read in the blog. Like your cock cage."

"Oh really? What about it?"

"He focused on references to 'the Boss', wanted to know who he was, and the bit about him taking the key to your cage the last time we saw him."

I remembered. Ouch. 

"What did you tell him?"

"That he's a guy we met via the blog years ago. That I used to have phone sex with him back in the day. and that we reconnected recently. I think Scott liked the concept of controlling your key and deciding when you and I can have sex."

"Yikes. He's into control?"

"Seems to get him going, Slave. In fact, he gave me a final order this morning, before we got up."

"Really....explain please."

"He says no regular sex until he gets out of the Canyon on Friday. Says it's only fair since he won't be having any.  He'll text me when he's out and 'free us' from his 'edict' if he deems it apropriate."

I was  stunned by this revelation. It had been almost three days now without any sexual relief.  Was Mistress serious?"

"Are we really going to follow this 'edict' Mistress? Got to admit all this has made me over the top horny for you.  I'm already thinking about where we'll stay tonight, and getting you into bed. I mean, are we ever going to see this dude again?"

"Awww . . . poor Slave. But you're the one who started us down this whole cuckold road.  Maybe it's time to take your medicine too, like I did last night.  And I DO think we'll see him again.  He was talking about visiting us in June. And maybe me coming to Austin over the summer."

Yikes.  I think Mistress was smitten. And with Scott relishing a role of domination and control this could have legs.

By the time we reached the rim, and off loaded out packs into the back of our Subaru, our feet and backs were feeling the effects of all those miles on the trail. We'd covered about 24 miles and a total of 9000 vertical feet.  Pretty good for oldsters. But at top of my mind was when I might be relieved of that building sexual tension. All that talk on the trail about cock cages, denial and Scott's budding relationship with Mistress had me semi-erect for what seemed like ages by now. 

By now it was past noon, we were headed east on the interstate towards to NM/AZ state line. I was making hotel reservations on my phone with Mistress behind the wheel. 

"So are we really abstaining tonite Mistress? I don't know if I can handle that."

"He just said no 'regular' sex, Slave.  I took that to mean no intercourse in the technical sense."

"So?"

"So I think we can solve your problem in other ways tonight."

Ahhh. Good to know I remained a pampered Slave after all.

Final Night In the Canyon

 Dinner completed, we were all  still a bit fatigued after our 14 mile trek down  and back from the depths of the Canyon. As I began stowing away our dinner gear  for the night, I speculated about Scott's plans for Mistress.  Would  he really explore Mistress's  bondage kink in their final night together? 

It didn't take long to find out.  As I washed our dinner plates and cups, Scott was digging into his back pack. He came back to the picnic table brandishing a length of belt like fabric webbing about 5 feet long.  Apparently he subscribed to that old Boy Scout motto: "Be Prepared". 

"This should do," he commented, looking at Mistress, who  remained seated at the table, still nursing her tea.  Her expression reflected equal parts uncertainty and curiosity with just a smidgeon of  anxiety.

"Hands," Scott directed.  

"Really? Here?" she asked looking around the camp site.  While the grounds were not as crowded as they had been Saturday night, there were still some other campers in the distance, maybe 50 yards or so away. 

"Oh, don't worry.  It's gotten dark and I won't be parading you around for all to see. We can certainly keep things private. At least for tonite."

A promise of a reunion?

Mistress glanced at me, still uncertain.  After all she could simply say "No".  Would she?

"Are we really doing this in front of the Slave?"

"Seems it's nothing he hasn't seen before, Mistress," that added with a slight touch of snark. "The only thing different from your 'switch days' is that I'll be the one in charge tonight. I'm sure Mick doesn't mind. Do you Mick?"

At this point, my own  level of arousal was on the rise at the thought of witnessing Scott take charge of my Mistress. 

"No. . . Sir. Who am I to object?"

"Exactly," he responded with a bit of a smirk.  Mistress shot a dirty look at me, as if she expected me to be the Night in Shining Armor, coming to her defense.  But I knew her well enough to judge her an enthusiastic participant in whatever mischief was to come.  She was already squirming with anticipation as she made a show of finishing her tea.

"Hands," Scott repeated again a bit more forcefully, holding up the belt.

Mistress slowly stood in front of him, finally extending her wrists in front of her. Apparently her answer would not be "No."

Scott just shook his head, signaling with a twrling finger that Mistress should turn her back to him.  He wasn't fooling around.

She hesitated, then complied. Slowly spinning around, glancing at me. By now it was almost dark, so it was hard to see her blush of arousal. But I could almost hear her racing heart beat. 

Scott gathered her hands behind her, crossed her wrists, then wound the fabric strap round them, first vertically, then horizontally, tying it off with a knot that tightened all of the strands in a way that produced a slight gasp and shudder from Mistress.  

"Too tight?"

Mistress just shook her head, indicating a "no."

She was twisting her wrists, testing her bonds. They held tight.

"Haven't done this in a while", Scott remarked to me.  "What do you think, Mick, does it look like that will hold?"

"Seems a good job," was all I could muster, still in a bit of erotic shock seeing my wife so efficiently brought under such swift control by another man.

"Now it's your turn to help, slave. I'd like you to get down there, take off her hiking boots, and pull down her jeans.  Around the ankles will do for now."

Mistress just looked at both of us with that "really?" look again. But her unsuccessful struggles with her bindings left her knowing her opportunity to resist had passed.

I knelt at her feet, a familiar place for me, and began unlacing her boots.  She co-operated to the extent of sitting back down in the picnic table bench, lifting each foot as I worked off those boots.  Her thick hiking sox remained to keep her toes toasty as the temperature dropped.

"I can't believe you're doing this to me, Slave?"

"Just following orders, Mistress", giving us both a quiet laugh.

Next I unbuttoned her jeans, and she lifted her butt slightly, aiding my effort to pull them down over her firm thighs and long legs to her ankles. Apparently she had decided either that "resistance was futile" or she really did not want to resist.  I was guessing the latter. 

So there she was, hands bound behind her, jeans at her ankles further restricting her movement, her lacy forest green panties for all to see.  A fleece jacket and T shirt covered her breasts and tummy. 

"Is she turned on, Mick?"

To verify, I leaned in, nuzzling into the soft fabric of those green panties. It was hard not to miss the intoxicating aroma of Mistress in full bloom, or to feel the damp fabric with the tip of my tongue.

"Verified, Sir."

Mistress just squirmed on that bench, moaning softly from my tongue's gentle ministrations, confirming my diagnosis.

Scott leaned over, helped Mistress to her jeans hobbled feet, then sat in her place.  

"Over my lap, Mistress."

Mistress just shook her head, sensing where this was going. But Scott's strong arms soon had her by the arm, gently but firmly pulling her down with her firm bottom settled over his lap, her head dangling down, face obscured by her long dark hair. He fondled that bottom gently.

"Like the undies. Soft and sexy.  But for what I have in mind, they're in the way. Mick, how about pulling them down to her knees?"

I looked at Mistress, who shook her head, giving me that dagger tossing glare.  But she failed to order me to disregard Scott's command.  Despite her sudden vulnerability, Mistress was going with the flow, seemingly prepared to "face the music". 

I squatted down, gently took those green panties in two hands and slipped them down over her hips and  around her knees. 

"Thanks Mick. Why don't you stand over by there, indicating the end of the picnic table, where I might block the view of any of our fellow campers who might  wander by or campsite.

As Scott resumed his gentle rubbing of Mistress's exposed ass, Scott continued. "Now Molly, keep in mind  that there are other campers not far off.  Let's not make them think anything improper is going on over here. Can you keep your voice low through this ordeal, or is a gag in order."

Mistress responded in a surprisingly submissive voice. 

"I'll do my best, Sir."

"OK, let me know if you change your mind."

With that Scott used his left hand to hold Mistress's bound wrists, securing her to his lap, while his right palm began to rain a a slow but steady assault on Mistress's squirming bottom.    Started with seemingly gentle slaps, that produced squirms and giggles from his 'Victim", he slowly built up  to a firmer rhythm that had Mistress jerking, then moaning in response. Mistress was doing her best to "take her medicine", but I could tell her bottom was getting red and the pain was becoming real.  Scott must have sensed it too, because his pace slowed, then stopped. 

"I like the way you squirm," Scott told her.  I was guessing Mistress was taking some satisfaction in sensing a  hardening cock under her pelvis.

Now Scott's hand was between her thighs, sliding to her sex, fingers probing. This seemed to get Mistress's hips gyrating even more, rising up to meet her hand.  Her faux struggles to  resist Scott's gentle caress were, of course, fruitless, as he held her firmly in place on her lap.

By now it was dark, so I couldn't see what surely were glistening  juices on Scott's fingers as he held them up for me to see. 

"I think you're right Mick.  This bondage and corporal punishment thing seems to light your Mistress's fire."

Back on task, Scott spent some time with a sweet and sour approach to Mistress. Firm spanks followed by gentle but insistent fondling of those damp, clean shaven folds.  

Of course, the outcome was inevitable: Mistress ultimately exploded into a throbbing, gyrating cum that left her breathless. Hopefully our neighboring campers were not listening too closely, or were otherwise inspired by her wanton performance.

"Oh, God" was about all she could muster. She was both shaken and stirred by Scott's "punishment," her hair a disheveled mess, breath still a bit ragged from her "ordeal."

Scott helped her off the lap, and asked me to relieve Mistress of her jeans and panties. I was happy to comply, and then helped her stand, with her resting her shoulder against my shoulder for support.  Weak knee-ed  was a good description of her state. 

"Hands?" she whispered, clearly hoping for release. I looked to Scott for direction. 

"OK, but redo them in front.  We have more business to take care of in that tent."

I followed orders again, loosening Mistress from her bonds.  She rubbed her wrists briefly, but submissively co-operated as I retied her wrists, palm to palm in front. 

"Thanks, Mick.  I think I can take her from here. "

Scott took Mistress under a strong arm,  gently helping her into her tent, no doubt ready to take his "Switch Day" prize.

Mistress's good night to me included "Remember, Slave....no touching." The tone of her voice suggested that there might be a price for me to pay for my "complicity" in the night's activities.  

To Be Continued....

Mistress Shares A Tent With Her Lover

 It was only about 8 pm, but the sun was down, temperatures were dropping fast, and we had a long day on the trail ahead of us. Did that explain why Mistress and Scott retired to their shared tent so early? Or were they both all too anxious to consummate their budding connection?

I was guessing the latter as I finished "the dishes", stowed away our food stuffs in a varmint proof container provided by the Park Service, hit the facilities and then slid into my lonely one-person tent.  

Their shared tent was about 20 yards away. At first it was internally illuminated by an electric lamp.  I could see forms moving about inside, including bodies smushing together and layers being removed. But soon the light was out, their tent bathed only in moonlight. 

Of course, Slave's mind was roaming directly into the gutter by now. Speculating about how quickly Scott was rounding the bases and heading for home with my sweet and sexy Mistress. 

And yet... despite the temptation, I heeded Mistress's invocation to forego any "self-abuse".  I knew Mistress enough to realize there would ultimately be a generous reward for my deferred satisfaction. I tried to distract myself by reading a novel on my Kindle. At some point I must have drifted off, only to be awoken by a whisper outside my tent.

"Slave....are you awake in there?"

"I am now, Mistress...what's up?"

"Well....it's about 11, we're going to sleep now, but Scott said I could 'tuck you in' on my way to the facilities."

"It's nice he gave you permission, Mistress," said with just a little snark. 

"He is getting a bit more .....assertive."

"And you like that, don't you?"

By now I had slid from my toasty sleeping bag and zipped open the tent flap.  Mistress was standing outside the tent, wearing a fleece jacket, thick hiking socks and....apparently nothing else. 

"It's kind of hot, slave....He's definitely enjoying taking increasing charge on this little adventure."

"And did that happen inside the tent."

"Ohhh Definitely. And Scott says ' why not give the slave a taste' if he wants."

Of course I wanted.....

Out on the firm ground now, on my knees before Mistress, it was hard not to catch a whiff of her arousal, mixed with the scent of her new lover. Hot.....

"So he fucked you Mistress?"

"More than once, Slave....."

"How'd that new sleeping mat work?"

"Not bad slave....we gave it a work-out for sure. It's cozy in there, and got pretty warm once things got going...."

"Details?"

"Not time for all that now, slave....it's getting late and he's expecting me back soon. Let's just say I rode his cock to more than a  few cums.  He's got quite a bit of stamina and, well, I'm pretty tender from that big cock ."

She spread her legs.  "So, do you want a taste, or not?"

"Of course, Mistress."

Slave shook off the slumbers and went to work, probing gently at first with my tongue.  The mix of salty residues from Mistress's clean shaven folds - a spicy combo of her own juices and Scott's remnants - got my own juices flowing.  But as I picked up the pace, pushing Mistress toward another cum, she backed off a bit.  

"Enough slave....you got your taste...but Scott says all my orgasms belong to him for the next 48 hours. And that you're cut off until we get back to civilization on Monday."

"Oh.... he really is is taking charge isn't he, Mistress."

"Ummm....yes. And I think you and I both like that, don't we?"

She had my number. And he seemed to have hers.

"Time to go back to sleep, Slave.....Big day tomorrow.  By the way, Scott says to tell you he likes his morning coffee black...."

This flashed me back to our days back in River City, when Mistress had occasional sleep overs with her lovers, and I served them coffee in bed in the morning.

"I'll be on top of it Mistress...."

"And I'll be on top of him....", she responded, dreamily.

She was already contemplating wake-up sex before, or after my coffee service?

She gave me a tender kiss good night, and headed off in the direction of the campground restrooms. I slid back into my tent and sleeping bag, still semi-aroused from my chance to graze betwixt Mistress's legs. And yet I made sure to keep hands off, as Mistress had enjoined. It was still late Saturday night, and I  considered how far the two new lovers had come since we met Scott  on Friday afternoon. I had to wonder what came next.

To Be Continued...

Cuckolded at the Campground

 After our frank conversation with Scott (who says he now prefers me to address him as "Sir"), Mistress excused herself to their tent to "change into something more comfortable". In her absence, Scott got even more frank with me.....

"So Mick, or 'Slave', as your wife  calls you.... you really are OK with me having my way with her?"

"Believe it or not, yes."

"You're not going to go all postal on me if we make love in that tent over there....or if she gives me the blow job she promises is in my future?"

So that's what they've been whispering about?

"She has her freedom on that front....just be gentle...unless she indicates she's looking for something more, say, forceful"

"Don't worry Slave.....I think we have an understanding about what's in or out of her limits, and while I might push them a tad, she's really the one in charge...."

"Good to know....Sir....."

Just about then Mistress emerged from their tent, hiking pants gone, wearing one of those simple Eddie Bauer travel dresses she prefers for our road trips , in a deep green, a dress that stopped at mid thigh.  Simple, but displaying those strong shapely legs to their advantage.  Of course, she still had on those sturdy hiking boots.  

"Guess I should have packed some camp shoes?", She asked us.

"Oh those will do .... ", Scott said, eyeing her admiringly. "Maybe you and I should go for a little walk while 'slave' here is getting our dinners together."

He led Mistress off in the direction of a vista point north of our campsite, arm possessively around her waist, murmuring something into her ear that produced a nervous laugh, and an exaggerated sway of her hips.

Hmmm......was there a trail quickie in their near future?

While they strolled off, I busied myself getting our little camp stove set up, and assembled the variety of freeze dried meals we had packed for our trip.  About 40 minutes later Mistress and Scott were back, guilty grins on their faces.  Mistress's hair seemed considerably more disheveled than when they had departed. 

She excused herself to the nearby campground "facilities" to "feshen up". 

Scott say down at our picnic table as I fiddled with dinner prep. 

"Does she always walk off with other men without undies, Slave?" 

"It's been known to happen...uhhh....Sir."

"I do appreciate a woman who's clean shaven.  Always tastes so much better that way....and I must say your wife is very tasty.....could get addictive."

Why was this simple conversation making my cock surge?  The pathetic plight of a cuckold I suppose.

"Chalk me up as an addict . . . Sir."

"Understood. And she has such lovely soft lips  too.....can't say I've had such a satisfying blow job in a very long time...."

Yikes.  I  hoped Mistress would share all the naughty details when (or if) we got some private time.

Mistress ambled back to the camp site, still glowing from what I surmised was an al fresco cum, or two. 

As the sun was beginning to sink over the Canyon's rim, the wind was picking up. Slave got the water boiling, pouring it into the foil packets that would reconstitute into our dinner meals.  There was more water boiled for instant coffee and tea to wash dinner down.  All of us added an extra layer to beat back the chill. 

We chatted over our meal about plans for the morning - a hike down to the bottom of the Canyon - hopefully all the way to Phantom Ranch.  It was an ambitious agenda - maybe 14 mile down and back to our camp site.  But Mistress and slave were determined to make it down to the River on this trip, and Scott, who had done it before, was game to lead the way. 

As dusk settled onto our campgrounds, Scott slid off to the facilities and Mistress and Slave had a little heart-to-heart.  

"So things got hot on your little walk, Mistress?"

"What do you think, Slave?"

"Well based on what Scott mentioned, seems he enjoyed your clean shaven folds and the attention of your lovely lips."

"Oh he spilled the beans, huh?"

"I think it was taunting."

"Only because it turns you on."

Sad, but true.

We could see Scott  headed back our way. Our private time was running out.

"So you got to handle his cock, Mistress?", I whispered.

"I did, Slave."

"And?"

"Impressive. Not quite as big as that guy from the Forest Service.  But....impressive."

"I have a feeling you may become more familiar with it tonight?"

"Seems inevitable. But remember.....no touching no matter how inspired you are by these developments. Without the cage, I guess you're on the honor system.  Can you do that?"

"Yes, Mistress."

She gave me a little kiss. 

Scott was back now, sidling up to Mistress on the picnic table bench. Arm around her again. He helped himself to a kiss of his own, but this one ended up with tongue and wandering hands, laying it on a little thick for my benefit, no doubt. PDA's are just part of the cuckolder playbook I suppose.

Ultimately, they came up for air. "It's getting cold now that the sun's down. And we have a long day on the trail tomorrow.  Maybe it's time to snuggle into our sleeping bags?"

It wasn't so much as a question from Scott as a directive.....

"We don't have a handy 'do not disturb' sign for our tent, Slave", Scott smiled my way.  "But I think that's the ground rule for tonight.  Am I right, Mistress?"

"I think Mick understands that he's to behave himself in his tent tonight", raising an eyebrows in my direction. We both knew what that meant. 

"What a shame you forgot that cage.  I'd love to get a peak."

Then they said their good nights. 

I finished stowing away our food and eating supplies as Mistress and her new lover  zipped their tent flap closed.

It could be a lonely night. At least I had a warm down sleeping back to beat back the chill. 

To Be Continued.