Molly and Mick Have a Literary Adventure

Yesterday Molly and Mick took a little literary detour after a vigorous 20 mile bike ride in a beautiful but little used federal park not far from our mountain hideaway.

Our destination was up a 5 mile dirt road, on a hillside in a pine forest on the slopes of the Sangre de Christo mountains.

At the end of this road sits a former goat ranch, carved out of a pine forest. Hand cut logs were used by 19th Century settlers to build a handful of rustic cabins, and a rambling cottage that was occupied for several years by a literary lion of the early 20th Century: D.H. Lawrence.

After Lawrence’s day, Georgia O’Keefe spent time on her back under a towering tree, painting a work she titled “Lawrence’s Tree.”

We saw the memorial his wife Frieda built for Lawrence years after his death, his ashes mixed into the concrete so former or would be lovers could not spirit him away.

Romantic, no?

Molly and Mick strolled around the grounds, gaping at the giant tree O’Keefe had painted, and sitting on the front porch that Lawrence, Frieda and the artist Dorothy Brett had surely occupied in their day, on similar sunny but cool summer afternoons. And we must have been infected by the writer’s sensual temperament.

“How would you like some worship, Mistress?”

“Here, Slave…..?”, she said with mock surprise, as she sat on a little bench, built into a corner of Lawrence’s porch.

There was no one else around. We were the only visitors. If there was a staff patrolling the grounds, we had not seen them. Presumably we would hear them coming, right?

Without further discussion, Mistress slid off her tight black riding shorts, fumbling a bit to get them over and off her riding shoes. Her, by now, well tanned cunt was perched at the edge of the bench, readily available for my attention. And I fell to my knees on the hard and worn wooden floor.

Fortunately, it did not take too much attention with my lips and tongue to get Mistress to the point where her hips convulsed against my mouth, and she moaned with delight, squirming away from my probing tongue.

“That’s enough, Slave”, she said, her face a pleasant shade of red. Then she had a proposition for me.

“Would you like to fuck me here, right now, Slave?”

But that might be pressing our luck. And that bench did not seem all that comfortable for the use Mistress proposed. I did not want either one of us to acquire splinters for our bottoms.

But Mistress gave me a rain check, which I collected later that afternoon. And Mistress rewarded me by requiring me to insert that little white probe.

“I need a particularly hard cock this afternoon, Slave.”

I was able to deliver, and Mistress seemed to enjoy riding it to one of those special, heartfelt orgasms that make a Slave proud.

Maybe she had been infected by the spirit of Lady Chatterly. though I think my mistress could show her a thing or two.

Afterwards, we drifted off for a nice nap, and showered for a dinner engagement with some friends. But before we were off for the evening, Mistress received a text from her long distance Master.

“He wants to talk a bit, Slave.”

“No problem, Mistress.”

Mistress was naked, as has been her practice this week. And she settled onto a chaise on our patio, visible only to some decorative horses in the pasture out back. (They have gotten an eyeful this week).

But as I was dressing, Mistress popped back into the house.

She had sunglasses on but nothing else, her hair still damp from the shower. And a very wide grin.

“Could you fetch me the Hitachi, Slave?”

Ah, so it would be that type of chat. I dutifully arranged the extension cord and power tool for her, making sure it was operating properly. Then left Mistress and M to their fun.

I tended to some work on my computer. Mistress and M chatted away. But soon she was back in the house looking for me.

“How many, Mistress?”

“Only one today Slave….he just got home. Said he would masturbate and think of me.”

“I think you like inspiring that sort of behavior, don’t you Mistress…. You like the thought of him playing with his cock, obsessing about you….”

“It’s … nice, Slave. Very nice.” But Mistress’s wide smile said something more than “nice.”

Somehow, somewhere, I sense that D.H. Lawrence would approve.

In Negotiations

This blog got started after Molly and Mick entered into a very detailed contract requiring my rather thorough and complete submission to Mistress’s will. We negotiated the terms after I prepared a draft using elements from other similar agreements found on the internet.

But we also included a renewal option that would allow me to cancel or ask for changes to the contract once a year, on a date in mid-July (our wedding anniversary).

I mentioned this approaching date to Mistress yesterday. Of course, I have no plans to cancel the contract. It’s been a very healthy development for our marriage, and some elements – including Mistress’s right to enjoy the attentions of others – have acted as quite an unanticipated accelerant for our sex lives, as our regular readers no doubt can tell.

And while the contract certainly allows Mistress to take some extreme liberties at my expense, she has been abundantly merciful. It seems I rarely am required to wear my cock cage these days, primarily because we drive to and from work together. Nor have I been leased to another Mistress.

But no contract is perfect. Surely it could use some enhancement. So when I mentioned the upcoming date, I asked Mistress if she wanted to make any changes for her benefit, since I have no requests for amendments on my own behalf.

And she asked for some assistance, from our Western Correspondent.

Mistress was sunbathing nude on our patio, reading a book. Slave was doing some actual work on my laptop, under the portal and in the shade.

Then her phone rang. It was M, checking in on her morning activities.

Here’s how I heard Mistress’s side of the conversation.

“So Slave reminds me that our contract is coming up for renewal. There is one day a year when he can get out, or ask for changes.”

“He says he doesn’t want out. Isn’t that right, Slave.”

I can speak when spoken to under these circumstance.

“Of course, Mistress.”.

“But I am thinking, maybe I should make some changes…what do you think?”

“Yes, I suppose I could use your advice. Maybe I should retain you as my special counsel.”

“Great….Slave forward the contract to me so I can pass it onto M….he’s going to look it over and see if any of the terms need to be ‘tightened up’.

‘Of course, you might want to tighten up the contract on me….right now I can have sex with anyone I want…isn’t that right, Slave?”

“Yes, Mistress…of course.”

“But I bet you’d like to limit that to only you, wouldn’t you, M?”

Mistress laughs. A very seductive laugh. She’s squirming a bit on her chair. This talk is making her as hot as it is me, I suspect.

“Well I guess that would have to be in a contract between you and me…. Without that, I don’t think I am ready to give up my freedom just yet.”.

No doubt this had M’s brain buzzing a bit.

I forwarded the contract to Mistress as required. I went back to my work, then we took a long bike ride.

That afternoon we were settled back on our patio again. Mistress was back in her au natural state. Getting her private parts all nice and brown to match the rest of her.

But her I-phone was in hand again.

“Ummm…Slave. M texted me. He must be busy at work, but he wants me to …masturbate….now.”

I smile. Clever M. He does have a way of pulling Mistress’s strings. And she was happy to comply with his command.

“Would you like me to get the power tool, Mistress?”

“Yes….that would be nice Slave.”

I found the device, ran the long extension cord out to Mistress, plugged it in for her and made sure it was in operating condition.

I considered offering to do the “dirty work” for her. But I figured M had demanded masturbation, and who was I to interfere.

“Do you mind if I watch, Mistress?”

“No Slave….I insist that you watch.”

I settled into a nearby chair. Attentive.

Mistress spread her legs a bit, lay her head back on the chaise, and applied the soft churning ball at the apex of her two well tanned and shapely legs.

“Mmmmm…..this machine is amazing.”

Her hips was beginning to squirm from side to side, her wrist working it just so to find the best angle of attack.

“Is this a little strange, Slave? Me masturbating just because he tells me to?”

“Not if it makes you happy, Mistress.”

It certainly seemed to being making her happy.

“Did he tell you to think of anything in particular, Mistress?”

“Yes….he told me to think about him pushing me over his desk and fucking me then and there ….from behind.”

The thought seemed to engage Mistress in just the right way…she came with a sudden moan, writhing against her device, the muscles in her forearm rippling a bit as she held on for dear life.

Her eyes opened, she smiled that well fucked smile I have come to know.

“Did you like the show, Slave.”

“It was very entertaining, Mistress.”

And, of course, Mistress texted back to M that her mission had been accomplished.

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MIstress's Naked Sunday

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Mistress Works on Eliminating those Tan Lines

“Can you put some sun screen on my bottom, Slave.”

Of course, I could. The sun was bright and warm here at our mountain hideaway, and the low wall around our patio gives Mistress plenty of privacy for naked sunbathing.

The only hassle was finding an extension cord and outlet convenient enough to assure that he Hitachi was readily accessible where she had arranged her little sunbathing nest.

After I smeared some number 8 on her lovely bottom, I poked around as any good Slave would and noticed some hair sprouting up back there since her last waxing.

“Hmmm….you may want me to do some tidying up back here Mistress.”

“Do you mind shaving me back there later Slave…..it’s a little too hard for me to reach.”

Add another project to my weekend punch list.

After my inspection and sunscreen was liberally applied, I picked up the Hitachi.

“Just wanted to make sure that it’s ready for you, Mistress.”

I had plans to watch the big USA – Ghana Soccer game at the local Cantina. I figured Mistress might want to engage in a little self help in the absence of my cock.

But once the highly persuasive tool was churning in my hand, It seemed a waste not to put it to its proper use.

Mistress squirmed and squealed in surprise as the business end of the tool slid between her legs, finding that little vulnerable, but deliciously responsive spot.

But she did not protest. Instead her bottom rose up a bit to accept her therapy and make sure it was precisely on target.

Soon she was grinding against it, writhing a bit from side to side, before her body shuddered in release.

“It seems to be working fine out here, Mistress,” I said, using my best Mr. Wizard voice. Another experiment properly concluded.

“Ummmmm….Yes, Slave. Very well…..”

Mistress settled back in to her chair, picked up her book, seemingly content. And I was off to watch the game and it’s disappointing conclusion. But at least I am done with those annoying Vuvuzelas for the next four years.

At some point ,after Landon Donovan scored the sole goal of the day for our slow, lumbering crew, I got a text from Mistress. A storm had popped up over the ridge line, and sheets of rain were falling. Dramatic.

“Your naked and wet Mistress has gone inside, Slave. Come home soon.”

Soon I rode my bike home in the rain, stripped off the wet cloths, and joined Mistress in bed.

Sidling up against her, my hand wormed its way between her legs. As we kissed, and I used my fingers to tease and torment, I updated her on the motley crew with whom I had shared the afternoon.

“Any Master material, Slave?”

Mistress is always on the lookout for someone to take her firmly in hand. And out little town has its fair share of mountain men and ski bums who might fit her needs. But they weren’t wasting the day like me watching s sport where the score too often ends up 1-0.

“Not this afternoon, Mistress. It seemed that everybody but me was drinking Bud Light.”

Cheap, Yes. But hardly a sign of Alpha Maledom.

“Well, keep your eyes peeled, Slave.”

Oh, you can be sure of that.

Soon Mistress was moaning softly, as she came against my hand. Then rolled languorously over, onto her tummy, letting her tush squirm a bit against the bed with her little aftershocks.

I knew what this signaled. I got up and snapped the photo above. Then climbed back into bed, on top of that lovely bottom.

My cock was already rather hard, and I slid it between her firm and now tanned bottom cheeks.

“M is desperate to fuck you in the ass, isn’t he Mistress?”

Mistress remains a virgin there. She has said many times, she’s not allowing anyone to “go there”. But I can see an exception being made in this case.

“Yes….he talks about it a lot, Slave.”

“And I bet you’d give in to him….wouldn’t you?”

“Well it makes me a little nervous ….but I don’t really think I could say no to him if he insisted.”

“That would really make you his Slave, wouldn’t it….”

“I guess that would be the last straw, Slave…”

Yes, as one of our commenters noted a while back, the surrender of her final “virginity” to M’s desires would make her submission to him complete, wouldn’t it?

Mistress had lifted up her ass, just so, and my cock had wormed its way into her tight cunt, oh so wet and welcoming.

As we talked about how I would never think of denying M “first dibs” on her ever tighter as, I pumped away at her, increasing the tempo until my Mistress was moaning with a rather dramatic orgasm. And then another one.

And after a bit, when Mistress seemed sated, I rolled her over to finish the job, Grateful that Mistress was in a beneficent mood and allowed me to come too.

Now it’s the dawn of our switch day, what we have planned to be a “Naked Sunday.” Mistress will be naked, collared and restrained most of the day, with regular orgasms wrung from her, on the hour, every hour. There will be an exception made for our morning bike ride, and for dinner when two friends will join us. Though I am toying with the idea of making Mistress wear her collar or wrist cuffs for through the dinner hour.

Any thoughts on that, dear readers?

Be sure to tune on tomorrow to see how our adventure unfolds.