"Grooming" in the "Bush"?

Slave is back from our hideaway. Mistress is still off in the wilds of Kenya. Thankfully she returns on Saturday, and we were able to talk briefly today. She regaled me with stories of some lions munching on the neck of a giraffe. I'm just grateful they weren't noshing on her.

Sounds like the close quarters with her sister and the Dowager Domme has kept her sexual fun in check these nearly two weeks.  I suspect she will be a pretty horny Mistress when she touches down.

And her slave will be aiming to please.

I do wonder if she's been able to keep those clean shaven folds maintained, what with the close quarters and her limited access to showers in the "bush" ( pun fully intended).  Which brings me to an article I noted in today's NY Times, which surprised me. Most Women Prefer to Go Bare.

The report suggests that the "clean shaven look" is more common than I expected:

A new study published in the journal JAMA Dermatology on Wednesday confirmed just how widespread the practice is. Sixty-two percent of a nationally representative sample of 3,316 women said they opted for complete removal of their pubic hair; 84 percent reported some grooming.

While the report says that the percentage of ladies going for the clean shaven folds look skews younger (18-34), the 62% number was larger than this old slave would have expected. Not surprisingly, some ladies do it to accommodate a man in their life, as Mistress did at the request of one of her earler cuckolder lovers some years ago:

Women were more likely to groom if their partner expressed a preference for it, the study found. But while earlier smaller studies had shown a link between grooming and sexual activity, particularly oral sex, this study found that while some women groomed for that purpose, it was not the primary reason: For example, 22 percent of the women reported grooming around the area of the anus, but only 10 percent had partaken in anally related sexual activity in the prior year.

Instead, the researchers said, providers of health care and aesthetic treatments should become attuned to the diversity of reasons that women groom. The women also said they did so for vacation and because they see their own genitalia as more attractive when groomed.

Whatever the motivation, I can vouch for the fact that it is certainly easier for me to ply my craft at pleasing Mistress with my avid lips and tongue without all that clutter in the way. Hopefully her days as a “Jungle Girl” will not change her grooming habits once she returns to “civilization”.

It Takes A Village

Here in our high desert hideaway, Mistress and slave have been slowly bouncing back from our 3 am phone call earlier in the week, and the low level anxiety burn about our daughter in Brussels. She's back in the city now, trying to get back to her normal routine, and telling us not to watch the alarmist reports on US television news.

Good advice, no doubt.

Mistress and slave are trying to get back into our normal routine too, with our traditional wake up sex, some work on the phone or at our computers, then some skiing, then an afternoon nap followed by some worship to tide over Mistress's sexual requirements. Last night's evening activities involved Mistress participating in a local public radio "radiothon" to support the local county animal shelter. Being a "cat person" Mistress was more than happy to lend her deep and sensuous voice to the cause.

The "radio station" was actually an airstream trailer out on the Mesa - a flat expanse of sage brush and prairie dog villages that stretches out from the mountain range behind our house to the deep river gorge 15 miles to the south. And the airstream is parked in the backyard of a funky brewery and performance space that some locals have constructed in the wide open spaces.   It may be the micro-brewery with the vest view in America (though I've not been to Bend, OR).

The crowd last night at the brewery looked like a casting call for a movie set in the '60's about the Haight Asbury scene in SF. Apparently this is where all the hippies moved when the rents got too high in the bay area.

But today's headline is not about micro-brews and hippies, but was triggered by something that Terri over at A Married Sissy said yesterday.   His wife Diane got home late from work and bluntly informed Terri that he should mark down an orgasm for her on his daily "Chastity Report". (This slave would be embarrassed to do a chastity report because there would be so few entries reflecting my denial, but to each their own!)

Terri knew his place, so did not ask the "who, what, when and where"  concerning Diane's particular cum O' the day. But he speculated that her lover Paul had provided some oral pleasure at the end of the day in the privacy of Diane's office.

And this seemed to raise some jealous impulses. Apparently Terri believes that he should have a monopoly when it comes to providing oral sexual pleasure to his wife. As opposed to more traditional sexual intercourse, which he may consider to be the proper role of a cuckolder / lover like Paul.

Now it may not be unusual (and in concept it has a certain hot factor) for a cuckolder and / or wife to limit the cuckolded hubby to non-penetrative sexual services, I've never heard of any corollary, i.e., that the cuckolder should NOT be allowed to provide oral sexual pleasure to the wife. After all, don't some alpha guys enjoy the occasional opportunity to reduce a woman to a quivering mass by the simple use of lips and tongues? If the shoe was on the other foot, I certainly would!

Nor do I have that particular jealousy gene.

Mistress's own occasional lovers have always seemed to enjoy that privilege, and Mistress has reported her enthusiastic enjoyment of  their oral attentions when and if provided. She has an apparently bottomless sexual appetite, and sometimes it's a team effort to satisfy it. ANd those clean shaven folds are mighty tasty and tongue tempting.

I like to think of myself as a team player. And like any NBA "role player" coming off the bench  to spell a star player in foul trouble, who am I to object when said star gets to score from a variety of places on the floor while I am on the bench?

To pervert a phrase made famous by a certain Presidential candidate, it does take a village.

Back to Basics

The voters have spoken. Slave's side won. Now it's time for Mistress and slave to get back to "real life". I suppose it was fortunate the electoral adventures of the last few weeks were a proper "Last Hurrah" rather than a "Last Stand", but the part Mistress likes best is the "Last".

"I've noticed you've not been calling me 'Mistress' as much lately, slave...."

Definitely not a good sign.

So slave has committed to doubling down on being a good slave these next few weeks. And while today may be a challenge (I have to leave for an out of town meeting at 6:30 this morning), I hope to do even more worship and devotion to Mistress to show her that she's still my No. 1 priority.

Plus, as it turns out, it's the healthiest thing to do!  Mistress pointed out this article to me yesterday:
Going Down On Women Is Good For Your Health. Turns out that some high fallutin' researchers have "studied" the issue and verified that treating your babe to some orally induced cums helps fight heart disease and cancer.

So, Terri. It's time to work even harder on those oral servicing skills. Maybe we need to share tips on how best to do our jobs in that "area".

I wonder if we can now get our health insurer to pay me a stipend once I retire?

Say It Ain't So.

Slave definitely fucked up yesterday.

I had an early morning meeting. Mistress had suggested I wake her no earlier than 7 am for our wake-up sex rituals.  But when I returned to the UCTMW executive suite (I am an early riser) she was still dead to the world. It was clear she was not inclined to be roused (and aroused) so early.

So we passed on morning sex, giving our selves rain checks for the evening.

But.... we met downtown around 5:30 pm for a political event, she accompanied me to another speaking engagement, then back downtown. After a couple of drinks and dinner at a funky local bistro we finally arrived home in separate cars around 10 pm..... and crashed.

I even forgot to offer the services of my devoted lips and tongue.

So there has been no cumming, even for Mistress for a whole 24 hours. (Unless she resorted to self-abuse yesterday without cluing me in.) It was an accidental, unscheduled abstinence day.

I clearly dropped the ball.

Our reputation is on the line.

If word gets out on this I may have my sex-blogger card revoked.

Fortunately, this is a new day.

Time to get to work.

Dry Spell

Here at the UCTMW World HQ, slave has had a bit of a dry spell compared to our normal sexual hijincks. 

Monday Mistress had one of those ridiculously early morning meetings that foreclosed our normal "wake up" sex. 

Monday night one of my older daughters made an unusual cameo appearance, bedding down in the bedroom next to us. The combination of a later night airport pick-up and an early delivery of said daughter to an MD appointment, shut us down again.

Then last night Slave was recovering from some heavy drilling in my mouth at the dentist office. Fortunately, I was able to perform a couple of worship sessions for my impatient Mistress, one while she was catching up with the exploits of the Cuckolder, who has re-emerged in the bedroom of his lover, Janice. She read his blog from my laptop as I used my tongue and lips (one side of my mouth still a little numb) to provide her with a little extra stimulative accompaniment to get her over the top. 

"I wish he'd add a little more detail, Slave....."

I'm not sure if that was more of a comment on my oral services, or Marc's entry, but it's clear we've both got to up our game.

After Slave was done with his "work", I noticed that Mistress was responding to some text messages. I try not to pry in these matters, but she disclosed she was communicating with her "back up" lover, K. 

"He's back from his trip from Alaska, slave.  He wants to get together...."

Of course, the problem is that with our daughter home, there really isn't an assurance of privacy here.  And K has some privacy issues at home too.  

"I told him we can meet for a drink next week, Slave."

Mistress's frustration with Jay's own scheduling issues clearly has her looking for other options.

Sounds like we all have to up our game. 

But the good news is that it's a new day at the UCTMW World HQ. I have a feeling my dry spell is going to end this morning.

Mistress and Slave on Ice

Mistress was able to find an opening in her busy schedule for some afternoon nooky with her lover Jay on Thursday.  So when I came home Thursday night she had that "well fucked" look on her face, and even allowed me to have a taste of the residue mingling with her own sweet juices in her clean shaven folds.

"Can you taste anything different, Slave?" she asked, after I had soothed an extra cum out of her.

"Hmmm.... yes, Mistress. A little extra salty taste maybe...."

Sadly, I've never been the sort of natural juices connoisseur who can come up with flowery phraseology to describe the impressions made upon my taste buds.

Unfortunately, the wake up sex generously allowed by Mistress on Friday morning may be the last time Slave has for some sexual release until the middle of this coming week. Mistress had a minor medical procedure Friday afternoon (performed by the MD who got to enjoy her 'walk of shame" a few week weeks back). All went well, but her clean shaven folds are on the injured reserve list at least until Wednesday, when we head for France with our older cute Co-Ed.

Of course, all this abstinence is nothing new to lots of you out there. Your typical married middle aged couple probably only have sex once or twice a week anyway.  But 4 days without sex at the UCTMW World HQ is quite an abberation. If not an abomination!

Mistress finally was shaking off the aftereffects of the anesthesia this afternoon, as Slave prepared to watch the local Pussycats take on Johnny Football.

"I'm kind of horny, Slave....."

Slave can take a hint.  I persuaded her to let me to provide a little surface therapy with the tip of my tongue. Believe me, no arm twisting was required. 

"I don't think the doctor said 'no orgams' slave....."

I proceeded gently, not wanting to press Mistress's luck. Fortunately, she seemed able to cope with my delicate ministrations until they had the desired effect.

"Ummm.... that was nice, Slave....."

Let's hope this did not setback her recovery.

Slave is getting a little horny too.

Kinky Boots and UCTMW Fan Fiction?

Mistress allowed slave to break his long cruel streak of abstinence on Saturday morning .... it was the sort of 36 hours of denial that I know won't earn me any "Awww.... poor Mick's" here..... But I know I was grateful. I tried to make sure Mistress was equally gratified, and threw in some afternoon worship too to make sure she had sufficient return on her investment.

Last night we had a double date of sorts with some friends .... we were heading to a funky urbanista neighborhood, so Mistress dressed down with dark jeans and a black leather jacket. She topped off (or would it be bottomed off?) the look with some new all weather boots she acquired on her recent visit to Portland.  Here they are:

I think they have a "Cruel Mistress" sort of feel, don't you?  Maybe accessorized with a black leather whip or crop?  Mistress see them as a more practical solution for snowy or slushy days here in the heartland, because they've got tough, rubber soles, and a heel built in to the body of the shoe.  I wonder of she'd let me lick some day to get the salt off?

Turning to a different subject, Slave is still having fun with the UCTMW Tumblr page, where we now have more than 200 followers.  The content out there ranges from cute kinky to artsy kinky  to creepy and dark kinky. And lots of images seem to get recycled regularly. But there was one unattributed image that popped up on my stream that made me wonder if there is someone out there who has appropriated our characters here at UCTMW and turned them into a very well drawn and imagined comic strip.  Take a look:

Although, taking a closer look, this lady is missing Mistress's clean shaven folds. But I swear that container with the kitchen tools is exactly what you'd find here in the UCTMW corporate commissary.

Mistress Starts Her Weekend Early

We've finagled another empty nest weekend here at the UCTMW World HQ - one daughter is off to the WIndy City, and another is visiting a friend on the East Coast. So Mistress and her devoted Slave have a few lovely days without our nosy brood in our faces, dampening our fun.

That gave us some space for some long and boisterous fucking in Thursday night, and gave Mistress the freedom for a little "sidedish" action mid-morning in Friday.

"My new old friend got in touch this week, Slave.... he's coming over Friday after my breakfast meeting."

This is a gentleman caller from Mistress's not too distant past. They've been in touch of late and she was able to pencil him into her dance card with the Mistresses in training away for the weekend.

Slave was off at work, but certainly wondering how Mistress's mid-morning tryst was going. I heard from her at around 12:30 pm, before I headed to lunch with a client.

"Well Slave, he's gone now....."

"How was it Mistress?"

"Very nice, Slave.... he wanted to know how I could have the breasts of a 24 yr. old...."

"Of course you do.... but what did you tell him?"

"It must be my swimming.... keeps those muscles strong...."

"Did he play with them, Mistress?"

"Yes.... he seems to love them.... but he also was wondering about you..... whether you had the cage on today....."

"Oops...."

"You should have asked, Slave..... "

You see, this gentleman caller had discovered the blog a few months back, and he's taken an interest in our rather unusual arrangement here.

"He's getting off on this whole cuckold thing, Slave.... he likes the idea that you know he's fucking your wife, and that it actually turns you on...."

I had to cut the debrief short for my lunch meeting, but we resumed back in the Executive Suite at the end of the workday.... both of us naked and between the sheets.  As I savored Mistress's well exercised clean shaven folds, she filled in some more detail about her morning with her lover, who is about 20 years younger than her Slave.

'So how did things unfold, Mistress...."

"I was waiting for him downstairs, had changed into one of my black nighties... no undies of course...."

Her hips were shifting against my devoted lips and tongue as she spun the tale.

"He came in the side door ... and immediately pushed me against the wall and started kissing me Slave.... his hand sliding down,  checking to see if I was already wet...."

"And were you, Mistress?"

"What do you think.....?"

She went on to describe how they came up to our bed....how he unzipped and had her suck his thickening cock.... then bent her over the bed and fucked her from behind.

"Sounds very Dom, Mistress.... did you like that?"

"Of course I did.... you know how I like to be dominated....it was all very ....athletic....quite a few different positions before we were done."

By now Mistress had cum in response to her Slave's tender ministrations, and I had entered her from above.... our sex wasn't the athletic type. I figured she had been fully utilized already today, so I took it slow and gentle, getting permission before I came, of course.

It was a very nice start to what should be a good weekend.

Executive Retreat

With a house full of Co-Eds, Boyfriend, and visitor from across the pond over the last few days, Mistress and Slave spent more than a few hours holed up in her Executive Suite. It gave me a good opportunity to do what I do best - graze amongst those silky clean shaven folds. And Mistress was more than generous when it came to opportunities to fuck her.

Sunday morning, Slave deployed Mistress's favorite power tool, figuring she deserved a respite from my avid lips and tongue.  It seemed that it took her no more than about 60 seconds to "power on" and over the hill once I applied it as intended.

"It's so efficient, Slave."

So true.

And later in the day, when the neighbor's obsessive power vac-ing drove us from our deck, we retreated again, with Mistress directing me to insert "your device", that little aneros, to provide her with a particularly firm cock for her amusement before we headed off to a graduation party for the daughter of a friend with our children and the one remaining guest in tow.

Last evening after a long work day and a stop at a political event, we got home at around 7 pm, with plans to hunker down and watch "Mad Men". We walked into kitchen bedlam: the Co-Eds had decided to make dinner for themselves at home (good - better than another night at Chipotle). But the bad part was the disaster zone that was disguised as our kitchen.

"Let's just hide upstairs, Slave...."

I grabbed two glasses of wine and followed her upstairs, leaving the chaos behind.

There we were, barricaded in the executive suite one more time..... what to do?

No doubt our daughters think we are incredibly boring

Leprecock

The hardest part of writing today's entry was picking a suitable headline to describe Mistress's odd discovery yesterday afternoon.

She had been out late for a client dinner Thursday evening, so our day started a little later than normal Friday morning, with Slave endeavoring to provide her some wake-up pleasure before we both headed off to work. She seemed to have a busy work day planned - more clients at lunch time, back to the office, then we would both "hook-up" at a local watering hole with a couple Mistress had discovered through her AM "shopping" in the last week.

So Slave was a little surprised to get a call around 2:30 pm at my office from Mistress.

"Slave.... you'll probably think I'm crazy but I'm going over to your fellow alum's house.... he's been badgering me to come by the last few days, and well.... I'm tired of working...."

"I guess that's better than 'shopping therapy', Mistress."

This was the guy she'd met for drinks Tuesday evening - The golfer who'd been on scholarship 20 years after I graduated. Mistress had shared a few of his cute, urgent and flirtatious sexts with me. He clearly wasn't inclined to wait until Tuesday night if he could persuade Mistress to drop by any sooner. But he had shown a respectful reserve - no cock shots taken via the bathroom mirror from this guy.

And apparently he was an effective salesman, unlike the erstwhile Latin Lover who she had kicked to the curb.

I made sure Mistress took at least a few safety precautions, including giving me his name and address. But it's hard not to trust a fellow alum, right?  ( At least he didn't go to USC.... or Boston College for that matter).

I suppose it was fortunate that Mistress had made these plans "on the fly", since otherwise, Slave would have been caged and a little more on edge than normal as I awaited her update.

And sure enough, she came back on the radar screen at around 4:45 pm, calling me as she drove away from her little suburban rendezvous.

"You won't believe this Slave.... his cock looks just like yours!"

"Hmmm.... so he's got the standard issue Fighting Irish equipment?"

"Exactly.... it was hard not to laugh...."

Well not that her work-a-day cock is laughable.... at least I hope. And it sure looks good when tricked out with one of those gold helmets!

"Ladies and Gentlemen.... the cock of the Fighting Irish."

I couldn't help but start humming the fight song.

After some office worship/clean-up duty behind my closed office door, I debriefed her further over a cocktail at a crowded downtown bar as we waiting for our meet and greet with Shane and Bridget (was this Irish Week for Mistress?).

"It was fun, Slave.... he's a nice, funny guy.... and we watched the Masters a bit. He's played that course and knew a lot of the players from his competitive days. Interesting stories."

"But what about the sex, Mistress....did he satisfy your needs on a Friday afternoon?"

"He did Slave.... I did some cock riding... and he had me suck his cock. Could you taste the cum on my lips?"

"Uhhhh.... no..... I guess I missed that....."

"And how does he rank so far among your lovers?"

"I guess he falls into the "OK... but not great" category, at least so far...."

"Could this be another one-and-done, Mistress.... that is so ND, at least in the NCAA Men's bracket".

I'm not sure Mistress got the allusion. She's not much of a basketball fan.

"We'll see Slave...."

'Then again, if the point of all this is to provide a little variety for Mistress, what's the point of doing it with a cock that's just like mine...."

"You have a point, Slave."

We'll save the evenings further developments with Shane and Bridget for tomorrow morning's post.

50 Shades of TV Bondage Exploitation

Here at the UCTMW World HQ I am into my 4th consecutive cage day, but looking forward to a day off tomorrow for our switch day.

But unlike some of you out there, I am fortunate that .... at least so far.... Mistress has not made me sleep in that infernal contraption.

Last night we got home, planning a bike ride, some lay-about time, dinner and a movie. A nice friday night empty nest-a-thon.

But when we got home and I stripped off the work attire, Mistress played a little coy about when I might be released.

"just stand arounf naked for a while Slave and we'll see what Mistress desires."

"You wouldn't make me ride in this thing, Mistress.... would you? I could get hurt, and then what good would the work-a-day cock be to you?"

She didn't seem too sympathetic, but ultimately relented after I used my tongue and lips to provide some "service" before we headed out for our ride.

Later, back at home, she had me insert my "device" (the aneros) before I was allowed to make love to her.

"I might as well get a nice hard one, Slave....."

And she certainly did.

But since I will be going out for a while this morning .... to see my grandkids and visit my cranky Mother, I've already got that hard ring back on again. Hopefully there will be some wake-up sex in my morning before I go back on lock down.

I did want to share with you a little video clip I found Thursday night, when Mistress was off on her spontaneous date with J. It's been a while since Mistress and Slave have watched Weeds, which was kind of amusing in the early years, but went off into stoopid land a few seasons back. It's the show centered around Nancy,  the hot suburban mom who turns to selling marijuana to support her family after she becomes a young widow.

Every now and then it has dabbled in kinky sex. A few years back there was a memorable scene where the underemployed brother in law gets a surprise ass-fucking from a female rabbi who spent some time in the Israeli army.

Well this is the last season, and apparently they could not resist exploiting and tweeking the 50 Shades of Grey phenomenon. But its Nancy's son Silas, who started the series as a high school stoner, but has now transitioned to a 20 something lady killer, who get to wield a mean paddle.

Check it out: Weeds Bondage Scene

Our Southern Correspondent's Tutotial on D/s Communication Skills

 Slave was solo here at the UCTMW World HQ for most of the evening last night. I'd dutifully worn my cage to work, but was given dispensation to remove it once I got home and before a short bike ride to get a little exercise.

Mistress was headed over to J's "love shack" purportedly for a bike ride, but it was unclear whether she was planning a "sleep over". I felt a little sorry for J in fact, because I could tell Mistress was in a bit of a "demanding" mood. 

By the time I had whipped up some dinner, read the Times and wallowed in the political swamp on MSNBC I was getting a little sleepy, but just as I was nodding off my phone rang... it was Mistress, reporting that she'd be home before 11 pm.

Of course, I was grateful to have her company, though I knew I'd be waiting until this morning the break my "horrible" 24 hours of sexual denial.  

I asked for a little update in her evening and she gave me the quick summary.

"No bike ride, Slave.... we went out to dinner instead.... then I let him have a little fun when we got back to his house."

"Well that was nice of you...."

"I was kind of a bitch though.... I wouldn't take off my clothes.... just pulled up my dress and rode his cock....."

For some unknown reason that' the sort of comment that gets Slave..... shall we say it.... aroused.

But I kept my cool.... curious about how this unraveled. 

"Getting a little Dommey with him.... and how did he react to that....."

"I actually think he liked it Slave..... and to tell the truth, I thought it was kind of hot too....."

No doubt.

I may have to ask a little more about this shortly.  Fortunately, we do have this helpful guide from our Senior Correspondent to provide the meat of today's edition:

 

Do you remember the book Men Are from Mars, Women from Venus by John Gray? It was basically about communication differences between men and women and how one sex doesn’t know WTF their partner means without an instruction manual. Someone could write a similar book describing communication between Dominants and submissives. 

Let me give you a couple of non-BDSM communications gaps between Bill and me. 

When we’re traveling and I say, “Honey, I’ll need for you to stop at the next Rest Stop,” I mean pressure is increasing and my bladder is very quickly heading toward full. I need a toilet within 15 minutes. What Bill understands from what I said is that I will need a potty break sometimes before sunset but, if necessary, can wait until sometime tomorrow. 

When I say in a strained voice, “Bill, what would you think about stopping to ask for directions since we’ve been circling this block like buzzards over a dead cow for several hours now,” his understanding is that I am having a wonderful time, have total faith in his navigational skills, and would like beef for dinner.

With BDSM, understanding clearly what the other person says, and what they mean by what they say, is vital. In addition to the differences between males and females, there are differences between the language and motivations of Dominants and submissives, especially in a club situation when they don't know one another.

Let’s look at a potential BDSM dungeon situation. A sub might say to a new Dom, “Sir, please, please may I suck your cock?” The sub is thinking of licking, sucking, applying rhythmic pressure to the spongy head of the Dom’s penis with his/her tongue, to be accompanied by firm but carefully controlled thrusts from the Dom until he spills his seed into the waiting condom. (That sub reads books primarily from the romance section of the library, in case you couldn’t tell.) What the Dom understands is that this sub really, really wants his/her head squeezed between his hands in a vise-like grip with his cock thrusting all the way down that throat at ramming speed until he cums like Old Faithful at Yellowstone! (That particular Dom reads Guns and Guts magazine while sitting on the toilet, in case you couldn’t tell.)

At another station a Dom might say to a sub, “You said you have experience being tied. I want to be sure before we begin that you are completely comfortable with this. Do you have any questions?” The sub thinks this Dom is really hot looking and even though she doesn’t have any actually experience with Shibari, or any rope work at all, she figures she wears lace up shoes to the gym twice a week, a girdle to work every day, has laces on her bustier, and has seen pictures on the web. How difficult could it be? And she says, “No Sir, I don’t have any questions.” 

Even BDSM couples who have been together for a very long time can get their wires crossed with communication. Not so long ago, I was on my back on the bed, head over the edge with Bill’s cock in my mouth. I was running my lips and tongue up and down his penis when I decided to switch things up a bit and let my teeth lightly scrap up and down his cock. I looked up at him, his eyes were wide, he was so thrilled he was almost trembling, and he was making a primitive noise I hadn't heard from him before. I put all those non-verbal clues together to mean, “Wow, this is fabulous, Donna, give me more of that rub with your pearly whites!” What he really meant was, “Damn, damn, damn, WTF is she doing? I don’t want to startle her while her teeth are on my cock but she needs to stop!” As soon as he was able to speak he got through to me in very short order that he didn't like that. He was sore for a day or so and it was weeks before he let me have his cock in my mouth again. And now there is never a time when his cock goes into my mouth that he doesn’t tap my cheek and say, “NO teeth, Donna! Is that clear?”

I know that’s a very, very sad story, but I hope it makes the point that really strong communication skills, both verbal and nonverbal, are an important thing to work on with your BDSM partner. 

Hugs,

Donna

Thanks Donna..... on this same theme.... communicating one's D/s expectations, I saw a reference to this article in Salon on some 29 year old BDSM wannabe's attendance at a "Fifty Shades of Grey" party pop up in my office email yesterday. While the author mocks the adventures of Anastasia in the all too popular book, it seemed to be that she had some of the same maturity issues, if only in reverse. What do you think?

Addictions

Mistress has a perverse addiction.

No, it’s not my work-a-day cock.

Or even the WC’s special occasion cock, which she has seen in one dimensional images but has yet to experience in "Sense-Around".

No her addiction is to a strange mixture of sugar and ground almonds that she hunts down whenever she has a chance to prowl the European continent.

The pretext for her trip to Poland and the Czech Republic was to see and experience the landscape where evil manifested itself in unimaginable ways in the mid part of the last century. And she certainly did that, as the photos and stories she brought home show.

But I sometimes wonder if the whole adventure was really just to indulge her addiction to Marzipan.

The folks at Wikipedia have a useful definition for those of you who have not fallen into this strange and compulsive trap, which, at least for me, tastes no more appealing than flavored candle wax.



"Marzipan is a confection consisting primarily of sugar and almond meal. Some marzipan is flavored with rosewater. Persipan is a similar, yet less expensive product, in which the almonds are replaced by apricot or peach kernels. In Goa (formerly Portuguese India) almonds are replaced by cashews. Many confectionery products sold as marzipan are made from less expensive materials, such as soy paste and almond essence.[1]p. 594 German marzipan is made by grinding whole almonds with sugar and partially drying the paste, and French marzipan is made by combining ground almonds with sugar syrup.[2]p. 484 Spanish marzipan is made without bitter almonds.'

On several trips to Europe back in the 1990’s, to charming ski villages in the Dolomites, to Andalusia, or to the hill towns of Tuscany, it seemed a good bit of our evening passagiata was devoted to feeding Mistress’s addiction, by hunting down perveyors of her own personal crack, whether  in charming confectionaries, or  tacky convenience stores which could have been fronts for Al Queda for all we knew.

So it came as no surprise to me that, as Mistress disgorged the contents of her rolling duffel on Saturday evening, it seemed that 40% of its contents was Marzipan in various forms and shapes – some molded into cuddly little animals in fruity colors, others consisting of multicolored slices from what must have been a marzipan log. (Actually I surprised she didn’t find a way to ship a whole log of this stuff home.)
Mistress grudgingly gave a couple of these little morsels to the sullen teens, who seem to share this strange addiction. But she has hoarded the rest for herself.

After arriving home last night from work, Mistress still feeling a bit of the time shift after a long day of work re-entry, I offered to worship, a post-work ritual I had sorely missed while she was away.

“Of course, Slave….”
Soon she had shed her work cloths, and lay across the bed, completely naked legs spread. But before I fell to my knees she had one more request.

“Hand me that slice of Marzipan, Slave….”, indicating where it sat across the room on her desk.

“Of course, Mistress…”

She lay back, content, nibbling at its edges as I began to nibble on her stubble free, folds, gorging on her own addicting juices.

“Ahhh…. this is heaven, Slave….”

Seeing the humour in the moment I paused briefly to take the photo below, just to exemplify our twin addictions.

While Mistress may worship at the altar of that strange almond / sugar concoction, I am more than content to worship at her altar.

Cue the celestial choir.

Mistress Gets a Morning Work-Out

At least Mistress got back into a proper sexual groove yesterday, on our third day back to the grindstone here in River City.

And consider my general slacker-liness, Slave can’t complain either.

I had spent all day Wednesday in my cage, a nice reminder of my status around here. Then, after what Suzanne aptly dubbed the “Last Supper”, 14 extended family members, most of whom arrived fashionably late after I rushed home to prepare them the meal they apparently expected from us, I barely had the energy left to ask Mistress to unlock that little sucker.

By the morning I was sufficiently revived, and horny, so as to exploit my “morning fuck” privileges. And since M was unclear on any pre-training session embargo for Mistress, I made sure she had a couple of acceptable cums too.

Then I was off to work, while Mistress took a morning bike ride and awaited her call from our WC/PTTTCEO.

At about 10:45 I got the call from Mistress for her brief report on how that training session went. But, sadly, I was with the family member who was on the lam from trembling Tokyo, helping her with some financial planning. So I had to discretely suggest to Mistress that she might want to wait a little while before her taunt …. Errr… report.

Later, as I was heading back up the elevator to my perch, I got through to Mistress. She seemed relaxed and satisfied.

“So how many, Mistress….”

“Ohhh. Three or four, Slave.”

“Good…. I know I’ve been a little dull this week. Glad to hear that M is picking up some of the slack.  And did he get off too?”

“Yes, Slave…. He did.”

I know that always is a special treat for Mistress, knowing that the sexual energy is running both ways across the phone signals during those intimate little training sessions.

At the end of the day, Slave was pretty burnt out again. Mistress did shame me into a bike ride with her, after she and the surly teens returned from their manicure / pedicure session.

(I think I had fallen asleep listening to Chris Matthews drone on about the government shut-down machinations. I’m having trouble understanding how folks who can’t pass a budget on time can treat themselves to paychecks while other folks doing their jobs get stiffed, but I digress).

After we fed the girls, it was up to our chambers. I settled in with my Times, and Mistress discovered a text from M.

“Do you mind if I give him a call, Slave.”

“Of course not, Mistress….”

I laid there next to Mistress as the chatted a bit, exchanging a little re-cap on the hot-ness of their morning encounter.  And I was feeling a little guilty that I had not offered to worship yet, at the end of the day.  Bt after they hung up, I made up for it.

Mistress was in a cute nightie, sans bottoms.

“Mistress, we may be too exhausted for regular sex this morning, but can I at least have a taste?”

“Why of course, Slave…. “

She generously spread her legs a bit for me, as I buried myself there enjoying her sweet nectar.  I savored slowly, filling my lips with her tender folds, sipping so to speak from this lovely nightcap of a cocktail.

And although I may not have started with the intent of taking my Mistress to a good-night climax, well that’s where we ended up, as she shuddered and let loose a gentle moan in response to my attention.

Slave is finally feeling a bit revived after a good night’s sleep. So I think I’d better shut down here and head upstairs to finish the job I started last night.

Mistress Demands an IME

First off, thanks for the very kind and thoughtful review over at MissBehavior yesterday. Here is the link:Miss Behavior

It’s good to get that sort of feedback from a fellow blogger who is clearly paying attention to our usually true, if fantastical, antics here at UCTMW.

We really did have a snow day here in River City yesterday. School was cancelled for the surly teens. And since Mick and Molly carpooled in our only 4WD vehicle, Molly could not linger here at home for her planned “date” with our Western Correspondent.

That did free her up from the anticipated embargo, and she indulged my cock yesterday morning, as the wet, thick snowflakes fell, after I had performed sufficient worship duties to justify such a boon.

When it snows here, the whole City seems to fall to its knees, cowering at the slippery white stuff, as if it doesn’t happen this time every year. So it seemed appropriate that our lunch engagements were cancelled, and we could reschedule lunch together.

And of course that also meant that Slave would be falling to his knees, to provide Mistress with some additional worship before we indulged our culinary cravings at a local chili parlor.

As I knelt to help Mistress remove a snow dampened boot, I asked if she had been in touch with our Western Correspondent, even though their date had been cancelled.

“Yes, Slave…..”.

“And was he frustrated about missing that date, Mistress?”

She was pealing back one leg of those smooth black tights to give me access to those luscious folds. I was planning on feeding my addiction to her sweet, musky juices. And I did not wait for her answer before digging in. This was the “palate cleanser” preceding our lunch, like a musky sorbet. Yum.

Soon Mistress was distracted too, and it was not long before her hips were rising out of her “throne”, pushed against the door, her head throne back, stifling a moan of release so as not to disturb my colleagues, passing by in the hallway beyond the door.

“Nice, Slave…..”

“My pleasure, Mistress…..”

As she reassembled her chic outfit, I asked her to finish the story about her conversation with M.

“Well we talked….. and I must have provoked him a bit, because later he said he “took care of himself”, before going back to bed.

“Ahhhh…. Still malingering after that sad frost bite plight, I see.”

But then later, I received a disturbing, if a bit incredible, email from M’s union steward, a certain Johnny “Big Fingers” Calamari, of Local 69, International Brotherhood of Teamsters. (Apparently the Newspaper Guild was a little too high falootin’ for our WC.)

The email contained the usual hyperbolic rhetoric about M’s sad and pathetic decline after his unzipped, commando sub-freezing bike ride, and the horrific calamity it had (allegedly) caused his special occasion cock.

Yadda, Yadda, Yadda.

There were threats of an OSHA investigation, and an extortionate demand for compensation in small hundred dollar bills, delivered to a truck stop that very night somewhere outside of Pueblo, Colorado.

But the exclamation point on this lowbrow attempt at extortion was the attached photo:

If Senor “Big Fingers” was to be believed, it seemed that the special occasion cock had fallen right off, with the exemplary specimen now preserved as evidence in a cocktail of formaldehyde and Cuervo.

After forwarding her this heinous email, I was quickly on the phone to our Publisher, with my General Counsel hat firmly in place.

“Mistress….. this is the problem with having a field office, with no HR staff on the ground. How do we know that this is really M’s damaged cock?”

“Don’t you lawyers have a way of investigating this sort of claim, Slave?”

“We do …. It’s called an independent medical exam (IME)…. You send some malingering Plaintiff or employee to a health care provider of your choice, and they inspect the alleged damage….”

“I don’t think it will take some expert to verify this claim, Slave…. Book me a seat on the next plane out….. and make sure M and his union rep know I am on the way to conduct this IME personally…..”

“Your wish is my command, Mistress…..”

Drive by Domme

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Slave Gets Extended Cage Time

First off, we want to say thanks to Suzanne at “All Mine” for the very kind shout out to the team here at UCTMW in her blog yesterday. She made a special mention of our Western Correspondent’s recent tutorial on breaking in a Slave to Ass fucking. See her post here:ALL MIne

Slave is not obsessive about blog stats, but I thought I would check this morning to see if Suzanne’s suggestion caused more eyes to find us yesterday. Sure enough, there were more than 257 page views of the WC’s clever tutorial, and more than 1000 page views of UCTMW yesterday, about 20% more than normal.

I’m thinking that there now may be more than a few extra broken in ass’s out there in the blog-o-verse, after their Dom’s or Domme’s decided to play along with M’s “How to” guide.

Of course, I suspect I will soon be hearing from the WC’s union steward, asking for some unwarranted salary increase. Ah well. I guess that’s just the price tag of success.

Suzanne, you should know that we’ve been keeping track and doing a little “Ohh-ing and Ahh-ing” about you, Jay and Tammy. In particular, Molly and the WC have been wondering about how you get Tammy to be so utterly submissive to you….You have a very compelling control over him. And now Jay is into the act too….Yikes.

Maybe you can get some product placement royalties if you promote the diaper brand you’ve been using.

Here at the Collins Household things were a little slow …. At least for Mick yesterday. After all that patting ourselves on the back yesterday about “quantity”, Mistress decided to impose an Abstinence Day on me. And I probably deserved it.

On Monday, Mistress finally received her package from M: One of those clever little insert able eggs that Aisha and Nilla have been writing about of late, but with a controller attached by wire.

I know M has plans for her compulsory use of that little toy. It was my assignment to get her batteries yesterday and …. Well….. Slave forgot.

Mistress already had the upper hand on me, since it was a cage day for me. I had been instructed to lock the little steel contraption on in the morning, since we were driving separately.

And because Mistress had to be out the door unusually early, we did not have time for our normal sexual activity.

Not that Mistress was bereft of sexual pleasure. That would be wrong, wouldn’t it?

As we showered, I embraced her warm, wet body as she rinsed her hair. My fingers dipped between her legs. AS well trained as they’ve become, it took only a few moments for me to have Mistress shuddering in my arms, a quickie orgasm to help brace her for the cold 8 degree River City morning.

I texted Mistress from my office about an hour later, suggesting that she stop by after her breakfast meeting. And sure enough, she popped in at around 9:30 am.

And our regular readers know what happened next. Mistress was soon in her “throne”, Slave was on his knees, and the grazing began. When She was satisfied – I think there were two involved because Slave was still hungry for her after the first one – I took a photo of her smug smile and spread legs and texted it to M:

“Breakfast”

About an hour later he replied:

“Wow, that’s early.”

And I was back at him:

“She has her needs.”

“Yes…. She certainly does.”

When I got home, around 7 pm, Mistress was still at the gym, to return a bit later as I was fixing dinner for us and the surly teens. The dreaded “stir fry”, in which Slave includes whatever her finds in the fridge.

Mistress knew the teens were hungry, and gave me a little kiss of greetings.

“I guess we will just have to keep the cage on for a while.”

And it stayed on until around 9:30 pm, through dinner and some Christmas Card addressing.

That’s when Mistress asked about her batteries. And I realized my error.

“Well there need to be consequences Slave…. Since I’m rather tired from spinning…. Maybe we cancel sex for this evening…”

She eyed the cage…. Of course I was naked, standing before her as she lounged in bed….

“Maybe you just keep the cage on and we will discuss this in the morning.”

Oh dear. And of coure, my cock gave off that pavlovian twitch when Mistress gets all dommy with me.

But I knew the cage could get a tad uncomfortable through the night…. When the cock inevitably stretches out as a result of who knows what dream activity.

“But how would it feel to have the hard, cold cage pressed up against your soft, warm bottom through the night Mistress….”

I knew I was treading on thin ice here….manipulative behavior could lead to treble damages… or three times the sentence with that dreaded cage.

But to my relief, she relented, apparently favoring her own comfort to my punishment.

“”all right, pitiful Slave… I will unlock you.”

So by now its been a dreadful 36 hours or so since Slave was allowed to come. Demand is more than sufficiently pent up.

So I know you will understand if I quickly post this sad tale and head up stairs to wake my sleeping Mistress.

From the Annals

We were biking in the cold yesterday afternoon – well not too cold. We are in between snow falls here in River City. So we took advantage of that window of opportunity for some out door exercise.

“Slave …. M says if you want you can post some of those stories he sent us when we were first emailing with him … those ones about that girl, his roommate, all that stuff….”

I figured maybe M was trying to leverage his column inches before the end of the year, hoping it would impact his incentive compensation calculation for 2010.

So being a dutiful Slave I started scouring through our in box from early in the year. So far I have yet to find some of those kinky gens, but I did find this… M’s first email to Molly and Mick, nearly a year ago, on Christmas day, 2009:


“I am the man who left the comment on your blog. I usually do not comment but wanted to thank you as we love your blog. As you invited people to email you I am doing so. We are a couple with two kids. I'm 50 and my wife is 48 our kids are 13 and 11. I too am my wife's slave and she is my mistress. I call her Mamm. We love it and our having the time of our lives exploring this lifestyle. If you would like to I would love to email with you.

Yours truly,

M and B”

Well it seems that the M and B relationship has evolved some over the last year. But what is also compelling is how the Molly and M relationship has grown and evolved over the last year too.

They seem well tuned to each other’s rhythms, despite the occasional hiccup or two.

Yesterday afternoon is an example.

Mistress was attending to various beauty rituals in the morning. I was playing with my adorable grandson. And after both of us were done with those activities, and took that brisk bike ride, we reunited in our Chambers with the door closed to wandering teens.

Mistress was already there in bed. Working on a vanilla blog, and her phone was handy too.

“M’s been texting me Slave …. He said that he and B were already to have sex and then his in-laws showed up….”

“Bummer….”

M and B are much more gracious with Parent time than we are here in River City.

“He says I need to get tougher on you, Slave…. That’d you’d love it…”

“It wouldn’t be my place to disagree, Mistress.”

We settled into bed…. a nap first and then….”

The chime on Mistress’s phone went off…She giggled, and read it to me.

“Are you guys having sex yet?”

“I’m telling him nap first, then sex…..”

And that’s what we did…. I woke Mistress around 4 pm…. We had time for a nice luxuriously slow fuck before it was time for her to begin primping for our evening engagements.

After she showered, and smeared all that moisturizer on her lush body, she looked at her phone.

“Sounds like M is home alone now, Slave…. Do you mind if I call to say hello.”

“Of course not, Mistress.”

So there we were … Mistress lying in bed, chatting with M about his day, me getting dressed for our night out.

To M: “I was too warm in bed to get up to get the equipment to fuck Slave in the ass today, M…. Hate to let you down.”

To me: “Slave, are you sure you want to wear THAT shirt…. At least wear a sport coat with it.”

“Of course Mistress….”

And to both of us: “This is so nice…. To have the two of you sort of here with me together…”

Mistress is there, phone in hand, naked, under the covers. And though it had only been about 30 minutes since her last collection of cums, she somehow seemed … in need. A Slave knows. It’s the smile, the tell tale wriggle that a less devoted consort might not notice.

“Would you like me to worship, Mistress?”

“M, the Slave wants to know if he can worship… now.”

She listens to him a bit more.

I asked again.

“M, I think the Slave really wants to worship me…. Do you mind.”

It was obvious M didn’t mind.

Mistress pulled away the covers. Soon I was on my knees, positioning her, with her legs spread, wide open for me.

“I just cleaned up down there, M…. so Slave’s got a very smooth cunt to worship.”

She was so very smooth, all freshly washed, shaved, moisturized, all ready for my tongue and lips.

And as I devoted myself to this pleasant task, I could tell M was contributing with some inspiring words. But all I could hear was, “Yes… Mike…. I would Mike….”, in that far away voice.

And soon Mistress’s hips were bucking against my eager mouth, a leg wrapping itself around my neck to pull me even closer to her.

“Ummm…. That was nice Slave….”

After, on our drive to a big festive Holiday concert, I asked Mistress what M had been whispering in her ear as I drew that last orgasm from her.

“Oh… I think he was imagining me sucking his cock while you were worshiping my cunt, Slave….”

“That would be hot, wouldn’t it Mistress?”

“Very Hot, Slave. Very hot.”

Rip, Ripple, Rippling

That comment yesterday morning, the one about our Friday night activities being “F****ing hot, came, of course, from the Western Correspondent.

And when Mistress read it, as I showered her damp and musky folds with attention from my tongue, it seemed to make her all the more wanton and responsive to my ministrations.

M’s reaction to our little tale had rippled back to Mick and Molly back here in the heartland.

And she was pleased to discover, as her hands groped for my cock when her first orgasm of the day was in the books, that her sexual energy had rippled along to me.

“Oh… already prepared to fuck me, Slave…. That’s what I like.”

Yes, my “quick start” mechanism was in good working order .


After, we took a walk on the Lake Michigan beach, all bleak and blustery, the sun just rising over the bluff. Then it was breakfast with our friends before heading to my alma mater for a football extravaganza

These are good friends that we see only a few times each year. But because they know us not from the world of work, family and kids in River City, somehow we seem more open with them, and them with us. We trade candid stories about kids, ex’s, or our life before we went “public”, much more easily than with our family and friends at home.

But how far do you go?

At some point over the weekend, I think I referred to my beloved Molly as “Mistress”. It’s hard not to let it slip. But it seemed to fly past them.

And when we mentioned a trip next weekend to a party a few hours south of River City, it’s hard not to share the backstory: the blog, our new blogland friends, etc.

But I stepped back from that ledge. Not quite ready for the plunge.

Later as we walked around campus, Mistress was checking her I-phone.

“M’s watching Colbert and Stewart, Slave. Their big rally in D.C. He says it’s hilarious.”

Had Molly just mentioned M to our friends?

I whispered to her, “Uhhh…. Does Jane know about M?”

Maybe Molly had disclosed what I had contemplated, during some girl talk that I had missed?

“ Oh… I just told her that he was our friend.”

After the game, our amigos from out West headed back to their hometown on their team’s plane. And as we walked back to our car, Mistress shared a few more details about her texts from M during the day.

“He says that our blog really made him hot this morning, Slave…. He read it and then went upstairs and had ‘epic’ sex with B….”

“Glad we could spread the lust, Mistress.”

.

Hearing that our activities and words can light fires so far away is quite a rush for this old Irishman.

And on the drive back to the Lake, Mistress and M got to talk a while. It had been two days, and it was clear M missed Molly. And she had missed him.

Over dinner, we were contemplating what ripples we might encounter next weekend, when Aisha and Sir D join us for dinner and we attend their local play party.

“I ordered those special hose, Slave. The one’s with the strategic opening, so you can have easy access.”

“Well, theoretically, not just me, Mistress.”

“True, Slave…. So true.”

Mistress eyebrows lift suggestively, that little teasing smile hinting at the possibilities.

“I think all that talk about you taking on other cocks must have gotten M going, Mistress…..”

“Yes, Slave…. But sometimes I think you just try to tease him.”

“Who me? …. Maybe he was imagining it was his cock…. That I was watching you suck him off, Mistress.”

Mistress’s eyes lost focus a bit….I could sense that little squirm across the table as she fingered her wine glass. Apparently that scenario had struck a nerve.

“But what about you Slave…. What should you wear to the party?”

“The cage?”

“Well, of course. But wouldn’t that get uncomfortable?”

“I suspect it might.”

“Well I could always have the key with me, in case of an emergency.”

“How about a collar, Mistress?”

“Good idea…. But would I get a leash?

“If you would like.”

“I think I would, Slave.”

“Should I bring along those red leather cuffs, in case you want to lock them on my wrists?”

“That sounds like an excellent idea, Slave. But wouldn’t all this be a little humiliating for you?”

“Not if there are other folks dressed in similar fashion, Mistress. It would sort of be like a Halloween Party, wouldn’t it? And I would just be showing m devotion to you.”

All this talk led Mistress and Slave to skip dessert.

At least the sugary kind.

With our friends gone, and the little apartment we had rented for the weekend now all to ourselves, we retreated to bed, and some “Epic” activity of our own.

Frenzy

I collected Mistress in front of her office building yesterday, a little past noon.  She had just emerged from one long car ride, from Music City, and we were embarking on another: up to Lake Michigan to meet two of our “out west” friends for a little college football weekend action.

Standing on the side walk, as I pulled up, Mistress was a sight for sore and needy eyes: stylish fitted black pants, a black top showing off her buff arms. That long dark flowing hair.

Later in the car, we talked:

“After you’ve been away, and I see you for the first time, I’m always reminded how lucky I am to have you, Mistress. Or to be had.  You are ravishing, you know….”

“Mmmmm. Music to my ears, Slave.”

Mistress was tired from her earlier drive, and napped some as I steered us past the cornfields and back to my old alma mater where we collected our friends.  Then onto the Lake Michigan shore where we had reserved a charming two bedroom apartment in an old Victorian Inn.

Quarters were close, and we had our friends to catch up with, so Mistress had to settle for some quick worship in our bedroom as our guests changed. 

She sprawled back on the bed, caught up with Friday’s blog and your kind comments, and spread her legs for me.

But before I caved to the impulse of falling to my knees and tasting the juices Ihad been denied for TWO WHOLE DAYS …. I had to snap a photo.

“I am sure M will want to know you got here safe and sound, Mistress.”

“Go for it Slave.”

After I had finished my brief but productive feast, the chime on my phone went off. That was quick.

“You’re killing me here, Mick.”

Cruel, I know.

Then there were drinks, chat, dinner. And it was late by the time we got home to break Slave’s fast.

We said quick good nights and adjourned to our chambers. We got naked very fast.

And  there was a veritable frenzy of fucking.

At some point, as I was slowly sliding in and out of her, savoring the taste of her neck, Mistress asked the question that she is allowed to ask….

“What are you thinking, Slave?”

It’s in the contract. Although tempted, I can’t blow it off. So I was honest.

“It was about you and the first M ----(her ‘starter dom’, that guy from last winter / spring before she and the current M became an ‘item’) --- I was thinking about you stripping for him. Allowing him to inspect you, play with your cunt.  Was that a turn on Mistress?”

“Oh…. Well yes, it was Slave…. Pretty hot….”

We talked a little more – her being fed his cock for the first time, being fucked by him with her legs over his shoulders -and Mistress began working herself into a frenzy….

“Can I get on top, Slave….I guess I really don’t have to ask, do I?”

Of course she doesn’t.

Now she was up there, riding my cock, hard, grinding against me, and muttering some dark and enticing fantasies.

We were onto the upcoming play party. And what might happen.

“How would it be to watch me suck off another man, Slave…. Do you think you could handle it?”

“Ummm…. I could, Mistress….”

“Wouldn’t it be humiliating to see your wife, on her knees, submitting that way to another man … and enjoying it?’

“Yes…. But also very very hot, Mistress….”

“You know we’re going to do that someday, don’t you, Slave?”

Mistress was gasping now, getting near her point of no return.

“I suspect so Mistress.”

“I want to have you watch me, seeing you play with your own cock while I take another man on…..”

Then Mistress was crashing hard over the edge, moaning, collapsing onto me, rolling off … breathless.”

“Fuck me slave…. And tell me about it.”

I did my duty. Con mucho gusto.

It’s very good to have her back.