Hunk Watch

Mistress and Slave have been spending a good bit of time up at our local Ski Hill, where a big regional music fest is proceeding under a "bigtop" in the shadow of the mountains. It's great music, and even better people watching, particularly for those of us from the more tedious and predictable heartland.

I believe I mentioned earlier this week an encounter we had down on the banks of the Rio Grande. Mistress was sunbathing topless, and we struck up a conversation with two middle aged women who were doing likewise. It turned out that one of them is the Mayoress of the little village where the ski hill sits, and there she was last evening (fully clothed) acting as ticket checker at the festival gate.

Mistress and I chatted her up, making only vague references to how we had met, avoiding embarrassment. But Slave did note that I deserved credit for recognizing her....

"See I must have been looking at your face, not elsewhere...."

 The Mayoress seemed impressed with Slave's discipline. (As was Mistress, who did not recognize her!)

Of course, Mistress had her own distractions at yesterday's event.  We were sitting near the entrance to the "backstage" tent, where the performers hung out and accessed the free booze and munchies through the show. So she had a chance to check out some of the "stars" up close as they sipped wine and lounged against a fence, watching the other acts.

A couple of local guys caught her eye, one who we had met here last year. The first (on the right) is a native American performer and artist who hales from the local Pueblo.

The second is a local Hispanic / Native American hybrid of sorts, who now performs more in California than in these parts.

Mistress had trouble containing her enthusiasm when they appeared near our seats, joshing with each other and the assembled semi-celebrities.

"Those guys are hunks, Slave...." she whispered to me, indicating with her eyes the gentlemen she was drooling over.

Mistress does know her eye candy.

I did admire her ability to keep her tongue in her mouth and admire from afar (or at least a few feet away).

But I will certainly understand if when I am performing my morning worship she elects to fantasize that these two fellows are tag teaming her instead of her pampered house slave.

HNT / Missing My Mistress

The Slave is in our nation's capitol still. Mistress is back in River City. We did talk last night after my dinner, and her engagement with Sir M.

Both of us were a little tired, so we did not ahve the energy for a "video chat" over our trusty Apple computers, the type involving the wanton display of body parts and voyeuristic abuse of body parts.

Plus it sounds as if Mistress's parts had sufficient wear and tear last night.

"How did your evening go, Mistress."

"Very nicely, Slave....I was a little late getting there, so we did not have as much time to play as we would ahve liked."

"Were you punished?"

"No .... he just kind of ....grabbed me when I arrived. Kissed me. Fed me a bit of a snack....then took me to his bedroom.... we mostly hung out there."

"Did you use those toys, Mistress?"

"No .... time was short.... I think he just wanted to get to the sex part."

"And how did that go, Mistress?"

"Well he told me to take my cloths off..."

"And did you?"

"Of course, Slave. He gives orders. I follow them."

"And then?"

"He told me to kneel and suck his cock..."

"How was that, Mistress?"

"Very nice, Slave.  I miss your cock tonight. But it was nice to have his in my mouth."

So I am imagining my Mistress. Naked. Kneeling. Her Dom feeding her his hardening cock. I have noticed the Mistress's skills in this area have ...developed ... over the last few months. I suppose practice and variety can enhance ones skills.

"Did you come for him Mistress?"

"Yes, Slave.   Of course."

By now my "tired" cock was twitching. But I did not want to press Mistress for permission. But I know that by this evening, when my dinner with relatives is done, I will be looking forward to that video chat.