The Dowager Domme Goes Full "Dragon Lady".

Mistress and slave have had a few days now to recover from the big wedding that Mistress had perfectly planned and executed for our daughter and her new husband.

Of course, the weekend was a forced march through a Friday brunch, rehearsal, rehearsal dinner hosted by Mistress's mother -- the Dowager Domme; then a long Saturday of preparing the room (an old retired Catholic Church) organizing photographs, and, finally a very big long night.  It wasn't until past midnight that the two of us finally made it home, exhausted but satisfied that, despite all odds, things had gone off without a hitch.

Excellent planning, Mistress!

But there was still a Sunday of visiting with family before they left town, and a dinner with our two daughters, the new son-in-law and some friends from our Florida days. By Monday morning we were running on fumes.

"I  should use the crop on you today, slave.....but I'm too tired."  There had been a cropping hiatus with our two daughters in the house since Wednesday, because the sounds might be a tad disturbing to the two Dommes in training.

Fortunately (or not, depending on your perspective) Mistress recovered her energy level by Tuesday, and reminded my bottom of what it had been missing.

The only amusing note from the weekend was the Dowager Domme's choice of a wedding outfit.  Of course, one might have expected the grandma of the bride to wear something elegant but unobtrusive so as not to eclipse either the bride or her daughter, the "MOB".

But that would not be in character for the Dowager Domme, would it.

Instead she showed up in a rather severe looking black dress accented with large red flowers. (a bit like the one on the left, but with a shorter hemline and a broader collar).

I decided to address the elephant in the room.

"So J, that's quite a dress. Where did you get that?"

"Thanks, Mick. It's Vietnamese...."

"Ahhhh..... the Madame Nhu look."

She just smiled to my reference to someone those of us who recall the Vietnam War would remember.

Madame Nhu: the so called "Dragon Lady",  who was part of the ruling family of South Vietnam who
LBJ and Nixon propped up at the cost of thousands of young American lives.  Didn't she have her own torture chamber, where political dissidents met a cruel fate?

Of course, Mistress was a little annoyed at her mother's attempt to "upstage" her daughter and granddaughter at the big wedding.

 But then what would one expect of a true "Dowager Domme".   In fact, maybe we should start referring to her as the "Dragon Lady" from now on.   I just don't want to end up in her cross-hairs.

Our Big, Sweaty Irish / Latin Wedding

Because of all the family activities yesterday, it was a Saturday relatively short on sex here at the UCTMW World HQ.  Of course, we got in our early morning session before the teens and their big sister were up and moving.  But after that…. We were way too overscheduled and harried for much fun behind the closed doors of our CEO’s executive suite.

As I was taking my two cute grandchildren to the market and then swimming with the help of the older daughter, Mistress was making a COSTCO run and getting her lovely nails worked over.

By the time we got back home at around 2:00 pm, we were both so gassed from the hot and humid weather that the best “action” we could muster was a 40 minute nap, cuddled against one another naked, before the next round of socializing began.

Mistress showered, and then began primping for this quickly scheduled spontaneous wedding in a local park gazebo. It was another steamy day here, and Mistress picked a vivid summer frock. She found some sort of adhesive “bra” to eliminate the strap lines, which seemed both odd and alluring. I had to take a photo to share with our readers.

The groom yesterday was my nephew, son of my much  missed younger brother who passed away about 4 years ago.  He’s a solid, red headed Irish lad, who despite a healthy appetite for the suds (and a bit of a gut to show for it) recently completed a marathon.

 His bride is a stunning, dark complexioned woman from South America he met about two years ago. She’s in her mid-20’s and my brother (and our father) would have loved to welcome her exotic looks and charm to our burgeoning Irish-American- Jewish clan.

Side by side, she and Mistress match up well in terms of both skin tone and attractively curvy bodies.  Folks were already commenting on how lovely their children will look.

They needed to rush the wedding to satisfy our nation’s byzantine immigration laws, and preserve her visa. So the ceremony was short and very sweet, and presided over by a local judge who, oddly, did the honors for Molly and Mick at our impromptu wedding about 18 years ago this month. So there was a pleasant bit of déjà vu to the whole affair for us.

The reception was thrown in the yard at the groom’s mother’s home (my former sister in law), and the night took on a Woody Allen movie quality, with the old (me, my mother, and my brother’s old friends), the new (a slew of grandchildren) , and the exotic (all that Latin dance music).

I took a surreptitious shot of Mistress’s vivid dress and her sensible yet elegant sandals to give you a feel for the evening.

At one point, before the dancing began in earnest, a strapping young man, barely 30, dressed in jeans and a preppy blue button down shirt approached. He said “Hi Mick… is this your gorgeous wife?”  It took me a while to remember him. Then I realized he was one of the groom’s high school friends, a kid I’d not seen in about 12 years.  I guess that would make him around 30.

He quickly zeroed in on Molly in a way that was quite flirtatious. It turned out he’s a West Point Grad, an officer who has seen both Iraq and Afghanistan in recent tours. He had a disarming and charming demeanor, but no doubt tough on the inside.

I stepped away to chat with some other folks, knowing that Mistress might enjoy the attention, and curious about whether how far the young stud would go to play his hand. 

Later Mistress said she noticed his flirting, but ultimately played the “I’m about as old as your Mom” card.  But apparently our sullen teens also noticed this chat (I’d bet they both thought this young officer was cute and worth flirting with too).

Sullen teen #2 took a photo of Molly talking to the young officer, and put a caption on it to show her sister and mother later that evening:

“Cougar on the prowl.’’

Naughty girl.  But worth a few laughs between us all as the evening progressed. Maybe that’s what happens when you give your teen daughters free access to the wine at a wedding reception.

In the car on the ride home we were all laughing about the evening’s events, and the young, flirtatious officer.

“She even called me a cougar in front of him when we were getting ready to leave.”

Gales of laughter.

‘And what did he say?”

“He said ‘your mother is not a cougar’, girls.”

I wondered… what made him think that?  I think she’s got a lot of potential.