Comforting Rituals

Molly and Mick were all wiped out on their first Monday back to “reality”. The time shift and recovering from all those hours on our crammed steel and glass capsule, hurtling through the time and space across a good chunk  of America had  us a little off our game.

And of course there was the return to our offices, where our colleagues almost forgot who we were and what the hell we did there.

But there were some comforting rituals that helped us make it through the day.

When I arrived at the office, there was a lovely email photo of Mistress's cunt, swaddled in some lacy green undies. I figured our Western Correspondent got a copy too, but that did not bother me. At least I was on the distribution list.

There were  the little affectionate text messages that popped up on my cell from time to time. 

Or were they taunting?

In a  mid-afternoon meeting, my cell beeped and I scanned the message:

“M is sending me pics of assholes, Slave.”

For a minute I was confused. Why would M send Mistress a photo of someone like Don Rumsfeld or Dick Cheney? Or was it Bret Farve?

Then I realized what she was probably referring to….

“His?”, I responded. I tried to imagine our WC positioning himself for such a shot. But then maybe he had hired a free lance photographer that would show up on some future expense report.

“No… just random ass holes.  He’s trying to provoke me.”

Ahhh…. The provocative image  of being taken from behind by the special occasion cock. I suspect that may well have gotten Mistress’s juices flowing, even in her exhausted state.

After my meeting, I decided that the return trip downtown to my office was a bridge too far. So I simply headed home, getting there around 5 pm. Mistress was still out, having sought refuge at her nail salon for the full appendage treatment.

“After all that skiing, my feet are a mess, Slave…. And those broken finger nails form all that cold weather…. “

“Enjoy, Mistress. Just checking emails.”

When Mistress returned home, she found me on our bed, sorting through work emails. She collapsed next to me, and together we scanned some of your blogs, before mustering the strength to whip together a suitable emal for the teens.

It was only after we read and expressed admiration for Suzanne’s kinky choreography at ALL MINE, aligning cocks and tongues so dramatically with her stable of men, that I realized I had ignored an important ritual.

“Would you like me to worship, Mistress?”

This was something we had fallen off the wagon on during our ski trip. Slave had not spent nearly enough time on his knees. And it probably showed in my slovenly and disrespectful attitude.

Mistress had already shed her work outfit, so all I had to do was remove her lacy green undies.. But even then I had to be corrected, since my initial approach was to part her legs on our bed and slide between them/

“Is that the proper position, Slave….”

“Oops.”

I tossed a pillow on the floor, knelt and she embraced my head with those delicious thighs.

It seems her luscious nectar always tastes better when I am down on my knees, focused solely on her pleasure.

I parted her clean shaven lips with my tongue, tasting the first flow of her juices, then proceeded to devour her, suctioning her little bud between my lips until she was writhing, then bucking against me. When she approached her peek, she squeezed my head hard with her thighs, then collapsed back on the bed, spent.

I slid up next to her then, embracing her, as she came down.

“Slave, I know you’re exhausted too. so no sex for you tonight. Save your energy for the morning. And since we can’t drive together in the morning, you need to wear your cage.”

“Of course, Mistress.”

So here I am, sufficiently rested, the steel ring that seats my cage already in place, snugging my cock and balls in its tight embrace.

Let’s hope Mistress is indulgent when I wake her up. Otherwise it could be a very long day.

Scenes from the UCTMW road trip

Sharing some photos taken along our barn storming tour of our great nation:

The mobile UCTMW unit gets packed for the trip East. Servile boyfriend can be barely seen lashing his bags to the roof. He gets graded on his knots. 

The "scenery" in the Top of Texas. Makes Kansas look interesting. Plus Kansas has Dorothy and Bob Dole.


Surly Teen II digs into what passes for breakfast at the I-Hop in Springfield, Mo.  "Hold the waffle", seemed to be her order.

Classy T-shirts at the infamous convenience store /gas station we visited after midnight on Saturday in Will Rogers Home town East Oklahoma, as modeled by Johnny Knoxville in Jack-Ass II.



Ski accessories with a kinky theme.

 At Montana Mike's near Oklahoma City the bar crowd watched the Sooners stomp on metro-sexual elitists from Connecticut in Fiesta Bowl. When in doubt,  give the points and bet on the Red State team to beat the Blue state team every time.

Back in River City

The UCTMW mobile unit rolled into River City at around 9 pm last night after two days of rolling across America. We spent a good part of our trip tracing the route of the Old Route 66 – from New Mexico all the way to St. Louis.

We were greatly aided by all the technology on board. When I was a teen, a simple trip from upstate New York to the Jersey shore with my three younger siblings was euphemistically referred to as “hell on wheels”. Boredom was the most hellacious factor, spawning bickering and clandestine fist fights and pinching , conducted below the level of the rear view mirror to avoid the wrath of Dad.

Now the teens had laptops, an AC/DC converter, videos, games, their I-phones, etc. to amuse and distract them from the grand, but, to them, uninteresting vistas we passed along the way. And the grown-ups had their  Mi-fi mobile hotspot, with a surprisingly good connection all across America. (Verizon may want to pay us for product placement at UCTMW).

We were able to establish (or discover) a few things:

·      In Oklahoma, “Do not Drive into Smoke”. Apparently it’s OK elsewhere.

·      Feral Pigs do not make good neighbors, or pets.

·      Cuervo Gold is cheaper in Missouri than any other state we passed through.

·      We actually have a reader in Oklahoma, who, with the assitance of our snarky teens,  has found new meaning in the local convenience chain “Kum and Go.” And yes, you can buy their T-shirts on-line.

·      The largest cross in this continent is along the road side somewhere in Texas West of Amarillo. And truth be told, it’s not that impressive.

·      On the other hand, the world’s largest rocking chair is located off I-44 in Missouri.

·      There is also a vacuum cleanrer museum (and outlet) near Cuba, Mo.

·      Unless a motel is a familiar “brand name”, our teens assume it is “sketchy”, and populated by extras from a “Scary Movie” sequel.

And while there was no switch day in that Holiday Inn across the street from the Will Rogers Memorial Rodeo arena in East Oklahoma on Sunday morning, Slave and Mistress were able to access each other freely as the sun rose over the Wal-Mart parking lot next door. The teens had been relegated to their own room.

It may be the one and only time we have sex on a Sunday morning in Oklahoma, so for that sake alone it was memorable.

And I suppose I have left unreported the New Year’s Eve (and New Year’s Day) encounters back on our cozy bed at our undisclosed mountain location. Let’s just say that I am glad we did not venture up the mountain again for fireworks and a party in the minus 15 degree temperatures, but decided to generate our own tasteful celebration between the sheets. 

The teens were bought off with a bottle of Prosecco to enjoy the occasion. And we suspect they made the most of it, particularly Surly Teen #1 and her boyfriend.

Yesterday evening, as the sun set, we were crossing Indiana and a slice of Kentucky, finally within striking distance. I was at the wheel. Mistress was multitasking next to me.

Her laptop was open and she was messaging over facebook with Aisha, reporting highlights to me in furtive asides. It seemed to be relationship chatter.

At the same time she was trading smuttier text massages with our Western Correspondent, who had been checking in on our progress. She had that flirty smile on when she received her messages from him, and dashed off her replies.

Afterwards, as we settled into our bed and went through accumulated replies, I asked her what the two of them had been chatting about.

“ He was cooking dinner, Slave…. And was talking about vegetables.”

She giggled.

“Is that what got you all animated, Mistress?”

“Well…. he said he was going to make me wear my butterfly vibrator (the one gifted to her for Christmas) to the grocery store, and select  assortment of things – cucumbers, you know, for further play….”

“I’m glad you had your own on board distraction, Mistress….”

“It was of comfort, Slave….”

Well, now it’s time to wake her and see if she has adjusted enough to the time shift to enjoy some indulgence before we head back to work after our two weeks away.

Welcome to 2011, all.

Oh Kum, all Ye Faithful. And Fill 'Er Up.

Vistna, Okla. The mobile UCTMW unit was packed, loaded and on the road yesterday at about 9:15 am Mountain time. the teems were packed into the backseat, with the boyfriend adding a little testosterone to the mix. The computers were powered up, and our mobile wifi hub was humming.

We proceeded via the southern route, through parts of New Mexico, across the "Top of Texas" (scenic Amarillo may have more fast food franchises than any place west of Indianapolis) and then clear across Oklahoma, which was all a hush as the Sooners stomped the pitiful pretenders from Connecticut in the Fiesta Bowl.

Sometime around midnight, we staggered into a small town just shy of the Missouri Border, running on fumes. The first gas station we discovered drew knowing snickers from our oh so urbane teens: "Kum and Go", which gave us all a shot of adrenaline as they posed for photos in the cold and dark in front of the sign.

Back in the car, they googled this regional chain, only to discover that it has become a bit of a cult classic, after one of the stars of that cinema classic, "Jack Ass II", was filmed in it's branded shirt.

Now the girls want to look for another one so they can get their own T-Shirts.

And all Slave wants to do is get back to my own bed, with the lovely Mistress at my side.