Hello Friends:
Thanks for all of your love and support of Mick and me throughout the year. We have loved getting to know each and every one of you. We truly enjoy your adventures, posts and stories. As we have each conveyed in our own ways -- this world has become much more interesting than the vanilla life. And I am having a hard time not blurting out details of our blog and intimate world to our vanilla friends. Candidly, it's hard to find things to talk to them about.
Know that Mick came through (as to be expected) on the Xmas morning. He delivered yet another enticing little frock which sent our kids into their own frenzy! I am certain that you will each get to see it -- because while I may be in charge of Mick's cock and body activities -- he is really in charge of our day in day out life -- and seems to post one photo of me after another. Many of those that make this 47 year old body cringe.
I am especially thankful to the WC, whom I adore. He has brought great fun, friendship and other unmentionables (because, unlike some of you -- I don't write about that stuff) into our lives! And we found him all because of this blog. How weird is that?
Have a wonderful holiday. We will spend the rest of ours on a beautiful mountain, with brilliant sunshine and the comradarie of our surly, but cute teens.
love
Molly
Saturday, December 25, 2010
Merry Christmas!
Friday, December 24, 2010
The Morning Before Christmas
Our morning rituals went a little askew yesterday.
You may remember that our schedule Wednesday evening did not allow time for Slave to properly fuck Mistress after that clever “three way” stress relief session.
Then, when our friends left after an enjoyable evening listening to music at a local piano bar, Mistress was sleepy and ready for bed.
“I think you’ll have to wait until morning, Slave….”
That seemed quite reasonable to me, not that a Slave should have much say in such matters.
But when I woke around 5:30 am mountain time, when I might usually start working on the blog… there was an issue…. I had a very hard and needy cock. I mean, it had been almost 24 hours!!
I knew I was risking some Mistress wrath if I woke her in a fashion that she found unappealing, but….
I sidled up to her, closer in bed. She often says she likes me to press up against her this way, so she can feel my cock resting there between her warm and firm cheeks.
But this time the cock was not “at ease”. NO it was poking and burrowing, with a life and styling’s of it’s own.
And my left hand could not help but wrap around her, cupping a breast, lightly grasping her nipple between the sides of two fingers…. That could just be happenstance, couldn’t it?
She came awake slowly,,,,
“Ummmm …. Slave …. What are you up to? It’s so dark out.”
It was. Thick clouds, dumping snow on our mountain, were blocking the bright light of the nearly full moon.
“Well, Mistress …. I woke with a hard cock.”
I believe honesty is the best policy in dealing with a waking Mistress.
“I like that, Slave….and it seems you want to deal with this issue now?”
“If you, don’t mind, Mistress.”
Her butt wiggled, as if her cheeks were trying to grasp that hard cock doing the burrowing.”
“No Slave…. I don’t mind…..I like it when you are desperate for me.”
Of course, protocol here at UCTMW Enterprises always call for Mistress to be the first to “come” at these sorts of conferences. And the method chosen was with my hand reaching around her, my fingers spreading her lips, already seeming moist and succulent. I slid a finger ever so gently inside her, so that the tip could seek out that little trigger point buried within, while the upper half of said finger glided across her needy little clit.
This approach turned out to be surprisingly efficient, and soon, Mistress was pumping her hips against my hand, gasping into a nice little introductory climax.
“Would you like to fuck me now, Slave?”
“I thought you’d never ask, Mistress.”
Afterwards Mistress drifted back to sleep, seemingly not displeased with her rude awakening, and Slave went about his blogging business. There were curious readers to satisfy now.
You will be happy to know that Mistress was not shortchanged though. When she asked to read the blog later that morning, before it was time to head up our Mountain, she was lavished with some additional worship from her Slave.
It was the least I could do in light of her patience with me before her normal wake-up call.
Today will be a very busy one here in our undisclosed location. First, an abbreviated ski day to take advantage of some new fallen snow. Then, a quick stop at the grocery for some Holiday dinner provisions. Then a trip to our local Pueblo for their timeless Christmas Eve / Solstice celebration. The teens will whine about the smoky smell in their hair from dozens of blazing fires. But Molly and Mick hope that they learn that these end of year holidays are not just about a single culture’s propensity for commercial excess.
Then again, I suppose those of us at UCTMW can be accused of a certain type of excess ourselves
From our top management, to our far flung reporting staff to those lowly horny tools in our mail room, the staff here at UCTMW wishes a peaceful and joyous Christmas for all of you who celebrate it.
Thursday, December 23, 2010
Input from A New Contributor
Over the last few months, Molly and Mick have received some supportive and clever comments from Donna, a fellow kinkstress from the south with a serious disability that has not prevented her from dipping her toes and other body parts into the world of BDSM with the rest of us.
She recently shared a lengthy post she has provided to Dr. Dick's website, which I think our readers will enjoy. Here is the link:the indominitable human spirit.
A few years back, Molly and Mick had the chance to spend some time skiing and talking with members of the US Disabled Olympics Ski Team, who could kick our ass on mogul runs in their custom made sleds, using hand held tiny skis to guide their turns down Vail Mountain. Their skill was stunning. But their spirit was even more amazing.
Out on the slopes today, the Collins clan saw a disabled skier learning how to use one of those small sleds, with the help of a ski instructor. One of the surly teens noticed the guy, clearly paralyzed below the waist, and commented: "why would he want to bother...."
I tried not to be preachy, mentioning simply that the skier probably wanted the same experience of being out on the mountain, facing down gravity and nature that we enjoyed so much. it just took him a whole lot more effort and guts to do it than it took us.
Of course that reminded me of the spirit of adventure that Donna's wonderful essay demonstrates. And I wanted to share it with all of you.
Of course, Donna's comments show that she has the type of sense of humour that we appreciate here at UCTMW enterprises. She was quick to chime in on the adventures of the WC's brother with his runaway finger. Here is a portion of her recent email to me:
She recently shared a lengthy post she has provided to Dr. Dick's website, which I think our readers will enjoy. Here is the link:the indominitable human spirit.
A few years back, Molly and Mick had the chance to spend some time skiing and talking with members of the US Disabled Olympics Ski Team, who could kick our ass on mogul runs in their custom made sleds, using hand held tiny skis to guide their turns down Vail Mountain. Their skill was stunning. But their spirit was even more amazing.
Out on the slopes today, the Collins clan saw a disabled skier learning how to use one of those small sleds, with the help of a ski instructor. One of the surly teens noticed the guy, clearly paralyzed below the waist, and commented: "why would he want to bother...."
I tried not to be preachy, mentioning simply that the skier probably wanted the same experience of being out on the mountain, facing down gravity and nature that we enjoyed so much. it just took him a whole lot more effort and guts to do it than it took us.
Of course that reminded me of the spirit of adventure that Donna's wonderful essay demonstrates. And I wanted to share it with all of you.
Of course, Donna's comments show that she has the type of sense of humour that we appreciate here at UCTMW enterprises. She was quick to chime in on the adventures of the WC's brother with his runaway finger. Here is a portion of her recent email to me:
I have been reading and enjoying your blog for several months and commenting every now and then. [Speaking of comments, do you really believe WC's brother and that whole three times up the bum thing? Any chance this is a brother who is a bit jealous of WC and is talking out of his hat? I mean really, does he carry a dozen finger cots or spare plastic gloves in his pockets, or perhaps one of those pocket sized containers of anti-bacterial cleanser?]
I agree Donna. The WC may have to have an intervention with his brother on the issue of proper sanitation.
And here is another contribution from Donna, a kinky holiday poem which you may enjoy:
And here is another contribution from Donna, a kinky holiday poem which you may enjoy:
I came across a little bit of seasonal poetry that I thought might appeal to you two as well as WC. It probably won't appeal to his brother since there is no mention of thumbs with attitude. However, I wonder whether the brother's name might really be Jack...as in stuck in his thumb? And yes, it is almost time for my next dose of medication, why do you ask?
In any case, this is an erotic romance writer's version of The Night Before Christmas.
Have a nice day,
Donna
An Erotic Romance Night Before Christmas
By Devon Rhodes
'Twas the night before Christmas, when in every hut
All the authors were reading and writing their smut;
The stockings were net above killer high heels,
In hopes that St. Nichol-ass would soon cop a feel;
The kids were at Grandma’s, all snug in their beds,
While drool-worthy eye-candy danced in my head;
And I in my teddy, and watching the clock,
Had just settled down to await the Big Cock,
When on the front door there arose such a thumpin’,
I reclined on bed to wait for my pumpin’.
From outside the window, Tom opened his sash,
Tore open his raincoat and gave me a flash.
The moon on the breast of my hero's huge pecs
Gave a woody the size of his home state of Tex,
When, what should my wandering eyes watch come in,
But a hot dommy Master, and eight smokin’ hot men,
With a huge throbbing cock, so taut and so slick,
I knew in a moment I must have his dick.
He cock-ringed his buddies before they all came,
And he spanked them, and stroked them, and called them by name;
"Now, Asher! now, Derek! now, Paulie and Darin!
On, Cristoph! On, Corey! On, Donnie and Larren!
On top of the bed! Let’s show her a ball!
Now lick away! lick away! lick away all!"
He was dressed in black leather, from his head to his feet,
And his skin was all oiled, inducing great heat;
A bundle of toys he had flung on my bed,
And I knew he’d torment me before I gave head.
His abs -- how they rippled! his chest smooth, not hairy!
His ass cheeks like apples, and no way was it cherry!
His sexy wide mouth was drawn up in a smirk,
And he looked like a man who knew just how to work;
He was hot and enticing, and wanted to tame,
So he tied me right up and started his game;
An hour or so later I was limp and wrung dry,
The guys were all empty, endorphins were high;
He spoke not a word, but packed up his toys,
And wiped up the cream then zipped up his boys,
And tucked a long finger under my chin,
And giving a kiss, said, “You were a ten.”
He strode to his ride, to his guys gave a leer,
And told me for sure they’d be back here next year.
And I heard him exclaim, ere he drove out of sight,
"Sexy Christmas to all, and to all a good-night."
By Devon Rhodes
'Twas the night before Christmas, when in every hut
All the authors were reading and writing their smut;
The stockings were net above killer high heels,
In hopes that St. Nichol-ass would soon cop a feel;
The kids were at Grandma’s, all snug in their beds,
While drool-worthy eye-candy danced in my head;
And I in my teddy, and watching the clock,
Had just settled down to await the Big Cock,
When on the front door there arose such a thumpin’,
I reclined on bed to wait for my pumpin’.
From outside the window, Tom opened his sash,
Tore open his raincoat and gave me a flash.
The moon on the breast of my hero's huge pecs
Gave a woody the size of his home state of Tex,
When, what should my wandering eyes watch come in,
But a hot dommy Master, and eight smokin’ hot men,
With a huge throbbing cock, so taut and so slick,
I knew in a moment I must have his dick.
He cock-ringed his buddies before they all came,
And he spanked them, and stroked them, and called them by name;
"Now, Asher! now, Derek! now, Paulie and Darin!
On, Cristoph! On, Corey! On, Donnie and Larren!
On top of the bed! Let’s show her a ball!
Now lick away! lick away! lick away all!"
He was dressed in black leather, from his head to his feet,
And his skin was all oiled, inducing great heat;
A bundle of toys he had flung on my bed,
And I knew he’d torment me before I gave head.
His abs -- how they rippled! his chest smooth, not hairy!
His ass cheeks like apples, and no way was it cherry!
His sexy wide mouth was drawn up in a smirk,
And he looked like a man who knew just how to work;
He was hot and enticing, and wanted to tame,
So he tied me right up and started his game;
An hour or so later I was limp and wrung dry,
The guys were all empty, endorphins were high;
He spoke not a word, but packed up his toys,
And wiped up the cream then zipped up his boys,
And tucked a long finger under my chin,
And giving a kiss, said, “You were a ten.”
He strode to his ride, to his guys gave a leer,
And told me for sure they’d be back here next year.
And I heard him exclaim, ere he drove out of sight,
"Sexy Christmas to all, and to all a good-night."
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