On Saturday morning, we were lounging in bed, sipping the lattes I had whipped up, and mustering the strength for some muy caliente morning sex before sliding into our ski wear. Mistress noted that several of our readers had recently posted descriptions of their personal “down under” grooming techniques.
“Maybe I should give my perspective on this Slave.”
“You should, Mistress.”
I’m always looking for additional content here at UCTMW. So, before I began my ritual morning worship, Mistress asked me to pass the laptop, and this is what she wrote for you:
“So, it has been one-year since I have gone to the hairless pussy thing. Frankly, I had never thought about it much. Except for the fact that I have a very full head of hair, I am not a hairy person.
You may recall that a little over a year ago I briefly saw a guy (aka, the Starter Dom). He requested that I go hairless. Mick endeavored to shave me and kind of did a marginal job. WC recommended a wax…so I went for it…full wax …. and have not looked back.
Have noted that both SFP and Aisha have written about their techniques for hair removal. Sp in their spirit, I am throwing in my now “expert” experiences after one year. Understand that when I do something, I do it all the way. So for Molly Collins, I like it smooth daily without one hair to view.
Molly’s tips:
1) Waxing once for starters is great. I have no patience for partial regrowth to then go wax again. Those short stubby hairs are ugly and itch.
2) I shave each day. This involves all parts every day.
3) SFP, I do not use a mirror. I feel my way.
4) I do know that I have to catch the strays while moisturizing out of the shower.
5) Mick LOVES me bare. He is a happy man.
Hard to understand why I kept hair there for so long.
Love
Molly
Yes, this Slave is a happy man. And I think I do a better job with my worship duties when I have a “clean slate” to work on.
Yesterday the sun was out for our endeavors on the slopes. We were up and out early, and enjoyed our time alone on the mountain. I shouldn’t whine about our surly teens, but there is something exhilarating about a day on the trails without hearing the endless litany of complaints, as in, “this is boring”, “I’m cold”, “my feet are sore”, yadda yadda.
For a change it was just Molly and Mick, under bright skies, with relatively empty trails winding before us.
Marvelous.
And when we hit our quota of runs for the day, there is nothing better than returning to a quiet little hideaway, with no one to raise a surly eyebrow as we retreat to our Chambers, for a little “rest”.
The difference yesterday was that Mistress had an opportunity to reconnect with our WC for a little de-briefing.
It had been about two weeks since they had a chance for more than a short conversation. So there was plenty of pent up demand at both ends of this particular conference call.
And when, after our nap, the text message chime went off, and Mistress mentioned that M wanted her to call, like a good Slave, I found an excuse to make myself scarce.
“Maybe I will go check the post office box, Mistress.”
Mistress protested that I need not slide out of the warm bed, but I had a sense that she was grateful for the privacy.
And sure enough, not long after I climbed into the car for the short drive to our little post office, I got a text from Mistress. “date with WC, Slave. Then sex with you afterward.”
I smiled to myself. I was happy to be her closing act of the afternoon.
When I got home about 15 minutes later, I brewed another coffee, and sat down at my laptop to take care of some work emails. But I would be less than truthful if I did not note my amusement over the little wanton moans and whimpers that were emerging from the closed door of our bedroom.
This is a cozy house. But like a good slave, I turned on the radio to give Mistress a bit more privacy.
A bit later, I was paged.
“Ready for you now, Slave.”
And she was, all warm and toasty, and certainly very damp from her exertions.
“How many, Mistress?”
“Just two, Slave….”
She had that smug little contented smile on her face. If there had only been two, they certainly ahd been good ones.
And I’m pretty sure she had a couple more before I was done with her. And I was grateful to M for providing the foreplay on this particular afternoon. It’s nice to have him back in the rotation. And I kind of enjoy my role as the “Closer”.
While my “pitch count” maybe somewhat little limited, it should help keep me preserve my “cock strength” and lengthen my career. I could become the Mariano Rivera of sex bloggers this way.
(My apologies to readers not into silly baseball clichés, but the season is almost upon us.)
As we rested a bit afterwards, I had to ask another question.
“Did M get off too, Mistress….”
“Yes, Slave. He said it’s only the second time since he got out of the hospital.”
Wow. This from Mr. Three-a-day. If not more.
“Wow…. He really was in a bad way. But it’s good to hear he is on the mend.”
“He did say that one nurse was always interested in helping him when it was time to pee….”
“See… I knew the special occasion cock would get some special attention when he was laid up.”
After we went out to a charming historic inn for some live music, performed by a musician with whom we have become close over the years. And mistress was required to fend off some 20 something skier who apparently was out looking for cougar action.
Once again, as I was getting us drinks, Mistress found herself with this “stallion” plopping down next to her, wanting to know if a man was sharing the love seat with her. And if, not, well, why not him?
She shooed this one away. Not nearly as interesting as Phillipe.
“Too young and too boring, Slave.”
The WC and Mistress were in touch my text through the evening, and had another chance to talk as I lay in bed next to her, reading a book. But when I offered her a little more worship, she demurred.
“I’m good, Slave….”
Yes I do think she had her not inconsiderable appetites sated yesterday.
Sooo…. Boot week is over today, but I thought we would share a few more shots… call this the "Men of UCTMW" Boot Special.
First, a shot of Bill, our Director of Security, International. I’m wondering if there is a place in those boots to hide a small but deadly knife.
And then there is your humble Executive Editor, fresh from yellowing the lingering snow.
As for this last shot, I apologize for the blurry resolution. Of course, we had asked our Western Correspondent to submit an appropriate image for this week’s theme, but, surprise, surprise, he missed his deadline.
Fortunately, we did receive an updated report this week from the PI we had deployed out west to debunk the WC’s bogus Worker’s Comp claim arising from the infamous “frozen cock” incident.
As you may recall, he claimed a lengthy period of recuperation was required. As you can see from this photo, taken surreptitiously, from our investigator’s belt buckle cam, M’s alleged “recuperation” must have included some time at a ski resort. But at least he kept his boots on.
