Apres Ski with the WC.

I know that some of you may pop over to UCTMW this morning, expecting one of our elaborate Switch Day scenarios to unfold for your greedy little eyes.

Well…. sorry to disappoint.

When Mistress woke, she was feeling a little under the weather, and her Slave still had a glowing bottom, which probably put him in the “less inclined to be a hard ass Dom” frame of mind. So instead of binding her to the bed, or suspending her from a ceiling beam, for a turning of cruel tables, I chose the path of least resistance.

I brewed her a latte.

Then Mistress read the blog, as I slid my tongue across and through her moist folds. But she was feeling her oats with the reprieve she was awarded.

“Stay down there Slave…. I’m going to see what our friends are up to. She even read me a few passages from SFP’s blog about her new “bilingual” D, and typed off a sweet reply, which she read to me as I tended to her.

Only then did she put down the laptop.

I had decided she was in need of some power tool therapy, so popped out of bed long enough to retrieve her Hitachi from its drawer and plug in the extension cord.

But before I could click it into gear, Mistress had a suggestion….

“I’m sure you’re rather horny this morning Slave… but for extra fun, why don’t you put in your little device.”

Ahhh. The Aneros. Who could resist when Mistress put it that way. I happily obeyed, abandoning all pretense of taking charge. Once the device was lubed up and slid home I returned to her, my cock already aching for release.

I slid into bed with her, the Hitachi in hand, sliding it up the inside of her thigh to it’s natural resting place.

Soon Mistress was vibrating in tune with its powerful touch, and coming with those lovely bucks and moans that please me so, until she pushed it away.

“Enough, Slave…. Now I want my cock.”


We cuddled a bit as she toyed with my un-powered tool, until it met her high expectations. Indeed, it was soon me begging for the privilege to fuck her. To prove my devotion, I fingered her to another sweet explosion before permission was finally granted.

Ahhhh. Sweet release.

It had been a whole day, what with my “harsh” punishment of the evening before. I was very grateful for that long period of denial to come to an end.

We lingered in bed a while, me reading the Times on line, Mistress posting some family photos to facebook. Then we were off in different directions. I dropped Mistress and surly teen #2 at the Ski Mountain, then headed south to pick up Surly #1’s boyfriend who was arriving via plane to join us for this last week of our vacation.

After the three hour drive – with me acting as chauffeur as the two teen lovebirds sat in back on the drive home – I took a long bike ride in this unusually mild and sunny weather. (Suzanne, we should be the ones getting the big snow storm, not you and Tammy!)

Mistress got a ride back down the mountain from friends, and I was looking forward to a hot shower with her and a possible “round two” in our chambers, when she returned at around 3:45.

But she had other plans.

She took me aside, after greeting the visiting boyfriend.

“Slave…. our WC wants me to call him …. You don’t mind, do you?”

Well of course, who was I to object.

It had been a long holiday weekend without much chat between them. I settled down in front of the TV to watch some football and read a book. Mistress closeted herself in our room. I could here the sound of her voice from time to time, but not their intimate dialog.

After about 30 minutes of watching M’s home football team engineer a comeback with the help of a rookie Quarterback who’s name conveniently rhymes with a cut of beef, the door opened.

Mistress motioned for me to come hither, and whispered in my ear.

“Slave, it turns out M is home alone…. And well …. He wants to have a ‘date’… could you please get out my equipment.”

Of course, I could. Retrieving it again from its drawer, plugging it in and handing it to my sweet Molly, who would now be at the controls, responding to M’s directions.

I left the room, resumed watching the game, which soon ended. Then their were NFL highlights brought to us via the cliché bound former jocks and coaches rounded up for such occasions.

I marveled at M’s focus at having foregone his home team’s big come from behind victory in order to direct Mistress to a few wanton cum from the power tool climaxes.

Unless he is good at multi-tasking.

About 45 minutes later the door opened. Mistress had a towel wrapped around her lower half, looking a bit dazed, but happy.

I shut down the TV, and went to her, and the door closed again. Not that the two teens reclining on the guest room couch, doing their own “catching up”, paid the old fart parents any mind.

“How many, Mistress….”

“Oh, I lose track, Slave…. Maybe 2 or 3.”

I’ll count that as 3 or 4. But then, who’s counting.

“And did M get to partake as well?”

“He did Slave… his family was at the movies…so…”

“I suspect you liked all those sounds he made.”

“I did Slave… I did….”

(And I was not referring to the sound after the interception that clinched victory for his local team.)

But there was a happy ending for Slave too.

Mistress seemed determined to make sure my “lonely” cock was in the game too.

Soon we were both stripped and on our bed… our belated trip to the shower delayed one more time. And after mistress used her skilled lips to make my work-a-day wonder firm and ready for her, she rode me hard for two more robust orgasms before flipping over and allowing me to finish the job.

My athletic and well conditioned Mistress had a full workout for the day – on the slopes and between the thighs.

AS you can see, Après Ski in the Collins household can get a lot more complicated that some spiked warm cider and a dip in the hot tub.

A Tale of Two Bottoms

We had a lovely Christmas here at the Collins’ undisclosed location out here in the shadow of the Sangre de Christo mountains.  Aptly named for the holidays, come to think of it.

There was some satisfying wake up Sex, before the teens woke demanding tribute.

There was gift giving: the teens, still anxious after all these years to tear open the little treasures placed with care beneath our little tree. And a few gifts were Molly and Mick too.

There were the obligatory phone calls to far flung relatives. (The teens always roll their eyes when passed the phone).

There was a lovely day up on our sundrenched mountain: Not too stuffed with Texans on holiday, as it soon will be.

We came home from skiing at about 3:30, took a power nap, then had to begin preparations for our dinner with visiting friends. The girls had asked for a beef brisket, something alien to me, but which I had dutifully prepared that morning, between presents and phone calls.  It smelled lovely in the stove.

As I was dressing,  Mistress was wriggling into the new undies I had gifted her for the holiday. 

“Can I take a picture for our followers tomorrow Mistress …. I think they are due some delectable body parts?”

“Yes, Slave…. But I want you to get the riding crop too, when you get the camera.”

Gulp.

Earlier on the Mountain, Mistress had suggested that maybe she was not strict enough with me. Our WC has been pointing her to blogs describing the regimens of much “firmer” Dominant Wives, from Suzanne to Ms. Marie, and she’s been doing her homework.….

Gee, thanks, M.

After I took some lovely photos of Mistress in repose, modeling her new skimpy undies, sans the top that goes with it, She instructed me to drop my jeans.

I felt the soft caress of the tip of the crop. Then the first hard thwack.

“Ouch.” 

Yes it did hurt.

“I think you know what this is for, Slave….”

“Yes, Mistress….”

You see we have this couple visiting us with their son. Not staying in our house, but spending time with us in the evenings. We showed them the big celebration at the local Pueblo on Christmas Eve.

The sun had set over the mystical mountain. Fires were blazing. Billowing smoke and flying ash filled the air, obscuring the night. The exotic procession from the centuries old Church had begun. Our friends were concerned they might miss the action.

I guided them, pushing them forward to get a good view.

But Mistress had seen it differently, and was not happy.

“I saw you with your arm around Lisa…. It lingered longer than it needed, Slave…”

Well Mistress had nothing to fear. I am completely devoted to her, forsaking all others. But our history gives her reason for paranoia. I understand that. 

And, of course, Mistress is always right on such matters. If she saw those events as her Slave being too affectionate towards another woman, then, punishment was surely due.

The blows rained down on my ass. They hurt like hell. My hands instinctively flew to my sore and aching backside.

“Move those hands, Slave….that earns you a few more.”

Naturally, I complied, putting my hands on my head.  My bottom was on fire, but I was determined to be a good Slave.

Somehow I ended up on the bed, my ass exposed for a few additional thwacks, before she was done.

“There Slave…. I hope that reminds you how to behave when Lisa is around this evening….”

Then she asked for the camera and took a few shots of her own.

“I want one of these photos on the blog tomorrow morning, Slave…. Your pick.”

“And, by the way. This was not simply a prelude for you getting to fuck me…. No sex for you until tomorrow morning… at the earliest.”

Yikes.   

Mistress turns hard ass for Christmas. 

Mistress's Holiday Greetings

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

Merry Christmas!

Molly and Mick are lying in bed, having sated themselves on one another in the pre-dawn hours here in our UCTMW mountain outpost. The surly teens have yet to wake us demanding their gifts. So we have just enough time to wish all of our friends, readers and lurkers a wonderful and peaceful holiday!