After our early morning sexual rituals on Thursday, Mistress and slave spent the day on our foot, hiking for the 2nd time this summer to the top of New Mexico. We are in about as good a cardio and endurance shape as we have been in some years, preparing for our leave of absence in early September for a journey to the roof of Africa. As you can see, Mistress's legs are particularly fit and fetching as a result of all this hiking and cycling. Unfortunately, the trail was a little too crowded yesterday for any on mountain oral attention to those fit and fabulous clean shaven folds.
After we got back from the mountain (and showered off all the distilled and crud), we had a long conversation with the WC. It is getting to sound like he and B really will be coming down to see us on Monday. We even did a little meal planning, and had a candid conversation about what really might happen when they arrive.
Poor B is the one person who has been out of the loop when it comes to the adventures of Molly, Mick and our Western Correspondent over the years. What will really happen when they show up at our door here at the UCTMW HDH? We made it clear that it's all up to B. Maybe we just have some pleasant dinners and vanilla tourism activities during their visit. Or maybe more.... it's her call.
The WC must have passed that onto B last night, because when I woke up this morning there was a text message from him on my phone.
"Mick- I told B that you said she would be in charge, She wants you caged when we get there. :)."
My response....
"It shall be done."
Of course, was that smiley face a sign that Mike was only pulling our legs. Or does B really want me in the cage? I guess I'd better play it safe and make sure I have the cage on.
Mistress and slave were back on the trail again yesterday, tackling a steep but beautiful trail up to a local peek that topped out at 12,100 ft. Another 10 miles on our legs and feet had us a little tender and stiff by the end of the day.
But because the trail was off the beaten path, it gave us plenty of privacy. On the way down we took a rest on a fallen tree, and Mistress must have had an itch that needed to be scratched. After all, it had been nearly 7 hours since wake up sex back at our hideaway.
"This would be a good place for some worship, slave....."
Naturally, her wish was my command. She slid down her hiking shorts and yellow undies. slave fell to his knees on the soft forest moss and detritus. Lips earnestly were applied to clean shaven folds. It took nor more than a minute or two to deliver the desired results.
Sunday was busy here, once Mistress was released from her bonds, the Hitachi was stowed and the bright orange extension cord was spooled and parked in the corner of the bedroom for future contingencies.
First, we went on a long bike ride, down into what we call “the hole” a strange geological accident a mile or two down the road from our cabin.
. “The hole” is bordered by mountains on one side, and a mesa on the other. It seems to be an ancient lake bed with one rocky end long since blown out, allowing the lake to drain. Now it accommodates green pastures at the banks of an arroyo still flowing strong with the lingering snow melt.
(The photo shows Mistress looking down toward the end of the Hole, after having finished the climb out, way ahead of me, I might add.)
It’s a long (mostly) downhill roller coaster ride to the bottom, leading to a long, challenging hill climb back out. The altitude, at 7500 feet, adds to the challenge.
I consider that climb out of the hole a pass/fail test to determine that Mick does not need an angioplasty anytime soon. So far I have passed.
But if you go that way, it’s with one hell of a view.
After that adventure, we took the kids on a five mile hike up to a nearby alpine lake. The payoff is the 300 degree view of snow dabbled peaks at about 11, 500 feet.
While they groused a bit on the way up, all of our legs seemed to get some new life on the way down, anticipating a rendezvous with some strudel and fries at a scenic Inn at the foot of the trail.
By the time we got home it was Mistress and Slave’s nap time. This time it seemed a good idea to do the nap first, BEFORE the good part. I was plum tuckered out.
And although I offered Mistress my tongue and fingers, I made it fairly clear that I had doubts about whether her cock was prepared to enter the fray any time soon.
She seemed tired too, and demurred on my offers.
Both of us had stripped off the hiking attire and were naked in bed, cuddled together, considering whether to read a bit first, or just close our eyes. Then the text message on Mistress’s phone jarred us.
It was M, our Western Correspondent, checking in. Mistress hopped out of bed. Read, and tapped a response.
“I told him it was nap time, Slave.”
Back into bed. Settling a bit more comfortably into one another.
“Chime”.
Mistress hops out to read next message.
“He says “LOL….”. I guess he knows what happens at “nap time” around here.”
She tapped some more.
“I told him Slave is blowing me off, at least for now.”
Well, I must say that got a rise out of me. No Slave likes to think they have let their Mistress down.
When she got back in bed this time, I found myself nibbling on her nipples: A practice probably not conducive to shut eye.
The text chime went off again.
“Slave, I’m telling him I am signing off for now.”
When Mistress slid under the sheets, her hands slid between my legs. She must have been amused by what she discovered.
“Hmmm….I think all that texting with M got you going, Slave.”
“I suppose I considered all that talk about me ‘blowing you off’ a bit of a challenge to your Slave’s manhood, Mistress…”
Mistress tried to walk that back a bit, and her comment to M probably was more a part of their own little sexy repartee than a slap at my serviceability. But, whatever, it did have its effect.
Somehow my cock had bounced back from the ride, the hike and the big stein of wheat beer at the trail head. I was ready and able to perform with just a tad more coaxing.
‘Slave, just so it’s clear: you’ve had your switch day and it’s over now. Go put in your device, and get back here.”
“Yes, Mistress.”
Well, that helped. By the time I had lubed up the aneros and slid it where it belongs, Mistress was commenting on how thick and useful my tool had become.
These last few weeks, Molly and Mick have done something never experienced over 20 years together: ride to and from work together. In the past we commuted in different directions. And for several years the commute built up a whole lot of frequent flyer miles.
But now we work just a few blocks from one another in River City’s “seen better days” downtown.
As you would expect, Slave drives. Mistress lounges feet up on the dash, checking emails and twitter. Updating her calendar. And more recently, texting our Western correspondent, and her new “Master”, M.
Yesterday, on the way home, Mistress brought me up to date on their latest mutual fantasy. And I guess I share a bit of the blame for planting the seed of this one.
The sequence as this developed went something like this:
Earlier this week, in an effort to entice M and B to meet us over July 4th on our undisclosed Mountain location, Mistress suggested some hiking would be on the agenda.
By email to both of them, I tossed on the following image:
Molly nude, hands tied behind her, leather collar, leash, tevas. M holding the leash.
M worked this into a more fully developed fantasy – which I assume had played a role in some of their phone sex, and Mistress’s outrageously horny demeanor these last few days.
On the drive home last night, Mistress scrolled through her emails and summarized some bits of it.
“He would take us to a trail head with no cars. Then, in the parking lot, he would have me strip, Slave.”
“Yes, that’s how I suggested things would start, Mistress….guess I am a little crazy.”
“No, Slave. Glad you have such a twisted imagination.”
“And then?”
“I told him that it would be fine with me naked. I don’t burn easily.”
It’s true, Mistress has a very dark complexion. She and Barack could be siblings.
“But he would be careful about that. He said he would slather me with sunscreen before we hit the trail.”
I imagined Mistress bent over the hood of the car, M’s fingers smearing a nice coating of Number 15 in places not likely to get too much ultra violet rays. Unless she was staked out in a grassy meadow somewhere.
“And then, Mistress?”
“He’d stash my cloths in a backpack, other than my shoes. I could wear those.”
“Did he mention a leash.”
“No, Slave. But the thought of that …. Ummmm.”
“What else, Mistress?”
“He said that as we hiked he would use me whenever he wanted. However he wanted. Wherever he wanted.”
“Did that make you horny, Mistress?”
“What do you think, Slave?”
With that she reached across the console, her hand landing between my legs. She liked what she found.
‘Seems like the story has a similar effect on you, Slave.”
The evidence spoke for itself.
She picked up her I-phone and snapped the photo above. Then she texted it off to M.
After our early morning sexual rituals on Thursday, Mistress and slave spent the day on our foot, hiking for the 2nd time this summer to the top of New Mexico. We are in about as good a cardio and endurance shape as we have been in some years, preparing for our leave of absence in early September for a journey to the roof of Africa. As you can see, Mistress's legs are particularly fit and fetching as a result of all this hiking and cycling. Unfortunately, the trail was a little too crowded yesterday for any on mountain oral attention to those fit and fabulous clean shaven folds.
