Molly and Mick Misbehave at the Hot Springs

After our morning bike ride, the plan for Thursday was to head to a hot springs resort about 40 miles from our mountain hideaway. A day of soaking, sun and massage as the result of a nice gift certificate left by one of our house guests.

But as Mistress was eating breakfast, her devoted Slave went to visit our local Post Mistress, who was indulgent enough to accept some postage payment for books we were sending to relatives. Phew. I was afraid my gringo, Midwestern money would not be good enough for her.

When I arrived home I found mistress, naked on our patio, phone in hand, her legs spread oh so wantonly on her favorite chaise, phone in hand. And she had that silly “you caught me” grin on her face.

“It’s M on the phone, Slave. ….You missed the show.”

Mistress’s grin and the way her thighs slid so suggestively together told me exactly what type of show I had missed.

She does have a needy and naughty little cunt. Apparently, she could not resist his importuning to play with herself, though we had our morning session only a few hours earlier.

But soon she was done with her remote Master, and we were off to the Springs.

Mistress was delighted to learn that part of our package included some time in a private area, behind closed doors, with our own private pool fed by the ancient and very warm springs.

I suspect our regular readers know what was sure to happen.

This was a private outdoor space, backed up against a rocky cliff face, shielded by rustic wooden fences from other bathers. It had its own Kiva fireplace, which would have been of comfort for an evening session, but hardly necessary in the blazing mid-afternoon sun.

Decadent.

First, Mistress shed her bathing suit, and instructed me to do the same.

Then there was the scoping out of our options. There were no soft flat surfaces available.

Mistress did look fetching, spread nude across a lounge chair in front of the fireplace. I took a photo with her I-Phone which she texted off to M, so he could get a taste of our fun.

Then we returned to our scheming.

The tub itself was too hot for the type of sex we engage in. Plus, there was the yuck factor. Not very nice to leave all those natural juices in the pool for the next visitors.

So we settled for some initial worship with Mistress perched on the edge of the pool, her legs draped over her Slave’s shoulders, who worshipped and wallowed at the same time. Mistress ultimately succumbed to my lips and tongue, with a lovely gasp and moan of ecstasy.

Then we scoped out options for the proper position for Slave to claim his reward.


I suppose we could have waited until we got home, but then what would we have to blog about?

The lounge chairs had those unfortunate armrests. Not enough space for Mistress to comfortably ride my cock in that position.

Mistress did kneel to suck me into the proper configuration for fucking, though.

And then we settled for the hard concrete, me on top, Mistress below, a fluffy towel beneath her. I certainly enjoyed the experience, though we wondered whether some hikers on the ridge above us might get a show of their own.


Afterwards, as we rested, read, and soaked in our private pool. Mistress snapped the attached photo of me which she has asked me to post with today’s blog.

At some point, Mistress received another text message from M.

“He’s impatient Slave. He wants to know what we are up to in here.”

I guess he did not want to wait to read it on the blog. Then again, being her Master has its privileges.

Mistress tapped away on her phone.

“I told him I am going to need that upcoming massage after being fucked on that hard floor, Slave.”

I was glad we sequenced the proceedings properly. I would hate for Mistress to have a tender back.

HNT/ Another Day in Our High Desert Paradise

By now some of you may be thinking this is getting a little tedious…..Molly and Mick, no surly teens to deal with, figuring different ways to have sex and/or consume intoxicating substances.

Are you thinking, maybe they should go back to work, like the rest of you hard working bloggers  (and blog lurkers) out there. Or at least spare us their fun.

It could be that even our Western Correspondent might be getting a little tired of our routine of non-stop debauchery. After all he has a job and kids to attend to this week back in the big City.

Not that he wasn’t invited to join in and expand the fun.

Maybe the polite thing to do would be to post a notice that Mick and Molly are on vacation and will report back on their return to River City. But we do feel a need to keep on slogging with the blog, and to find new things to report to you about.

Here is the compromise: in the interest of not boring you with the routine sexual couplings of an almost 60 professional and his younger and very sexy wife,  I will just skip to some highlights of our day that did not involve the normal worshipping, fucking, moaning and writhing.

8 am – Morning sex behind us, Mistress is already out on our secluded patio, giving the decorative horses next door their daily show, writing her vanilla blog naked (bt for sun glasses) typing away at our picnic table. I snap a photo and hope she will not acquire a splinter on her tender tush.

10:00 am- after a hearty bike ride through our rolling, high altitude terrain, Mistress is lounging on her chaise, naked once again, working on tan line elimination. Her text message chime goes off.

“It’s M, Slave, do you mind if I call him.”

It’s polite of her to ask, but she is entitled to call anyone she wishes, whenever she wishes.

I am reading my book. She is chatting away about our day’s plans and her naked state.

But, undisciplined Slave that I can be, I could not help by chime in at a point a few minutes into their conversation.

“Mistress, you may want to tell him where your hand is placed right now.”

I don’t think she was conscious that her hand was parked between her legs, oh so gently moving back and forth.

“Slave is pointing out to me that my hand is between my legs, M. I guess I hadn’t noticed.”

“And you get very squirmy when you talk to him too, Mistress. In case he is interested.”

“He says I get squirmy too….”

That’s when their conversation went in a different direction.

“Really ….now …..right here?”

Mistress body arches a bit, her legs spread a little more wantonly.

“He wants me to play with myself, Slave….,,” she says, almost apologetically.

But there was nothing to apologize for.

“Would you two lovebirds like me to excuse myself?”

“He wants to know if he should watch, M.    …….

He says you should stay, Slave.”

That when Mistress’s fingers began to do their work, slowly rubbing away at her clit, a nice vertical motion, gentle, but apparently effective.

She was listening intently, and while I had no clue as to the words M was using to suck her deeper into her erotic trance, I could hear her responses to him

Phrases like….”Yes….”

“I would……”

“Ummmm….”

“I would like that…..”

“Yes, you could.”

And then, Mistress’s head was thrown back, and she was using the muscles in pelvis and arm to press her churning fingers and writhing cunt more closely together, moaning into the phone…coming at his command.

As she came down, Mistress looked to me for my reaction. She couldn’t see that my cock was twitching a bit on my shorts.

“He has you very well trained, Mistress.”

“Slave says you are training me well, M.  And it’s true….”

2 pm- Molly and Mick went to a lunch to hear a favorite author in a nearby town. After getting a collection of books signed, we were heading home.

“M just sent me a text, Slave. He says I should do something kinky to my Slave…maybe a spanking. Or a good ass fucking. What do you think about that?”

“Well I guess he’s looking out for my best interests, Mistress.”

“I wouldn’t want to disobey orders, Slave.. So when we get home be prepared.”

“Yes, Mistress.”

We took advantage of the late afternoon sun a bit, then as the sun was trending lower in the sky, Mistress told me it was time. We adjourned to our bedroom.

“Get out my harness, Slave.”

I was happy to comply. And its always interesting to see how enthusiastically Mistress comes as she pumps into me.

After we were done, Mistress was solicitous.

“Did you like that, Slave?”

“Of course, Mistress?”

“Why, Slave?”

“It reminds me that I am your Slave….get’s me in a better, more submissive frame of mind.”

“That’s good, Slave.”

I suppose M knew that when he sent this “suggestion” to Mistress.

10 pm- Mistress and Slave stagger in from an evening with friends at a local restaurant. We sat out on this charming patio, heard music, and consumed a variety of intoxicants, along with some crispy sweet potato fries.

We seemed to be way too loopy for sex, and I had certainly had my day’s quota. But as we did some web surfing, I pointed Mistress to a post by Remittance Girl, on the potential for addiction and desensitization from too much vibrator use.

So far, this does not seem to be a problem for Mistress, but she does like that Power Tool.

Mistress read through the thoughtful and well written article, laughing at parts. Then handed me the computer.

“What do you think, Mistress.”

“I think I want you to plug it in and use it on me right now, Slave.”

Mistress is the scrappy type who embraces FDR’s warning that “we have nothing to fear but fear itself.” Apparently fear of Hitachi addiction is not high on her list.

The light was out as I applied the tool, which made for an interesting and somewhat frustrating experience. I had a little difficulty finding the optimal target in the dark, so Mistress’s hand helped guide me. With no light ,I could sense and feel, but not see, the wanton writhing of Mistress’s legs and pelvis as she sought out the one additional orgasms of the day that  Remittance Girl had reminded her she needed.

Bottom line: Mistress went crazy. Then came with the type of needy desperation that suggested it had been weeks, not a few hours since her last one.

So, credit an assist to Remittance Girl.

And maybe I should invest in some night vision goggles.

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.

“