Caught Sticky Fingered

Yesterday was not unlike a typical winter Saturday here at the UCTMW World HQ in River City. Slave was up early, preparing our daily edition, then, when paged by our Publisher, I shared it with her. She languished in bed, legs spread, as I lavished her with worship, then allowed me to fuck her as recognition for a job suitably done.

Then we were off our separate ways. Mistress took sullen teen number 2 on a series of errands, including some nail maintenance and a trip to the grocery. I picked up my ever so cute grandson for a trip to our local farmers market, then back to our house for some book reading and play.

Mistress returned home with groceries not long before I was off to return the grandson home for his nap time, and as I was leaving she was preparing her self a lunch with some egg salad purchased at our local Bagel Emporium.

But when I returned to the house about 45 minutes later things were unusually …. Quiet. The kitchen was deserted, and Mistress’s egg salad luncheon was sitting at her place on our kitchen counter, half eaten.

Hmmmm …. A case of Alien abduction?

Possible, but unlikely…..

I crept upstairs, noting at the landing that our bedroom door was closed.


Hmmmmm ….. I could be discrete, and text Mistress to see if it was OK to disturb her. But sometimes this Slave cannot suppress his playful miscreant side. (Well, actually more often than not I have that sort of suppression problem.) I was willing to risk a good cropping to discover what I expected to find on the other side of the door.

So I popped the door open.

Sure enough, there was Mistress, splayed across the bed, her jeans open, zipper down, exposing that sweet lacy violet thong.

And Mistress had the phone pressed against her ear, a cat who ate the canary smirk across her face.

“M, guess who just arrived….. Yes, it’s the Slave….. M says ‘hi’ Slave…..”

I raised an eyebrow, looking down on my Mistress, who was clearly having a little post-phone-orgasm chit chat with our Western Correspondent.

“But where’s the Hitachi, Mistress?”

“Back under the bed, Slave….”

Soon Mistress was signing off. And we were heading off to our gym for an afternoon workout. On the way, Mistress explained her afternoon diversion….

“Hope you didn’t mind discovering me that way Slave…. But M texted while I was eating lunch, and …. Well, one thing just led to another….”

“Of course I didn’t mind…. After all, you were just exploiting your contractual rights… use them or lose them, as they say….”

“Yes, I was….”

“And did M get off too?”

“Yes, he was home alone for a while, lying on his bed….”

I know Mistress particularly enjoys those moments of mutual fulfillment.

“Good to hear that his equipment is beginning to function up to standards after that shocking injury this week, Mistress.”

“Yes, he does seem to be coming along….”

Later, back from the gym, it was our nap time, then more sex for us both. We “picnicked” at home, then went to a local bar for a few drinks and some music. And somehow the subject turned back to how M first introduced himself to the Collins’ clan.

“It was December 25, more than a year ago Slave…..”

“Remember all the kinky stories he would send us….”

“Yes, we were talking about that…. Stories about his days as a ski instructor, and his girlfriend L, she was married, about 10 years older than him….”

Well since our Western Correspondent has been even less productive than normal due to his cock rehabilitation leave, this morning I trolled through our old emails to find this gem, sent months before Mistress and M developed their special relationship. Enjoy.

In the meantime, Slave needs to focus on our Switch Day Plans.

On busy weeks like Christmas or Spring Break we would have to move in with another ski instructor so they could sell our rooms. L and her husband were there at Christmas and Eric (another instructor) had moved into my room.

Eric was of Viking decent and a very good looking blonde guy. He was a bigger dog than me, a real ladies’ man. He was into kinky shit too. His dad was a doctor and Eric had a real steel speculum he used to use on the ladies. He lent it to me sometimes but that’s another story!

Anyway, L 's husband was there so we couldn't use her room, and she asked what we were going to do. I said Eric would get out when I asked him to, or maybe I would let him watch us fuck. I could tell that turned her on but she said we couldn't do that. I made no comment.

So I told Eric to leave us alone and we went up to the room, got naked and started fucking. One of the fantasies I used to tell her to make her cum was that I would make her get naked on the bed on her knees and elbows with her legs spread wide open. I would tell her that way anyone who came in the room could see her asshole and pussy and that both holes would be right there ready for them to use. Then I told her I would let the French ski instructors come in and fuck her for $20.00, $40.00 if they wanted to fuck her in the ass. I would tell her this fantasy as I fucked her and she would always cum hard.

On this day, I changed the fantasy and told her I would let Eric come in and fuck her for $20.00. If possible, she came and came and came even harder.

Afterword we were talking and I said “let’s do it, I will sell your ass to Eric just like our fantasy”. I started rubbing her clit and trying to talk her into it. She started cumming and cumming as we talked about the fantasy. We came to an agreement that she would do it, but he had to wear a condom and would fuck her pussy, not her ass. I agreed, but added that I would whip her ass hard with the belt before he fucked her, and after I would fuck her ass. I just told her that and she came again. She was very nervous about the whole thing, but ready to go. She thought Eric was good looking but thought he was arrogant. Actually that was true, but he was a nice guy.

We set it up for a couple days later. Eric agreed not to come to the room after skiing until 5 PM. I told L to come to the room right after skiing. When she got there she was still in her ski clothes and I told her to strip naked. She did and lay down next to me. I started rubbing her clit and telling her what was going to happen. She was so turned on she was shaking. I just kept edging her. Her pussy was soaked and my fingers slipped in effortlessly. I had her get up on all fours. I took the belt and doubled it over and started to whip her ass really hard. When she was turned on she could take a real hard strapping and it turned her on like nothing else. When I was done I told her to spread he knees wide open and put her elbows on the bed and arch her back.

She was waiting there naked in the most lewd position. It looked hot. I continued to rub her pussy and she was still shaking. When the door opened she actually jumped. I told her to close her eyes and keep them closed. Eric walked in and said "oh it looks like you have been a naughty girl." Then he shoved 3 fingers in her and said " I can't believe how wet she is".

Eric started rubbing her clit, and she came HARD right away. He was still dressed in his ski uniform and he just pulled down his pants and I handed him a condom which he put on. Then he got behind her and just jammed his cock in her in one thrust. She let out a howl and started cumming again and again. He came pretty fast too, and then I nodded to him to leave. He left and she started saying over and over again "I can't believe we just fucking did that" and "that was so fucking hot".

Then I took of my clothes and got behind her with some lube. I lubed up her asshole and my cock and gently pushed it in. Once she got used to it I fucked her hard right up her bottom. She kept coming and so did I. The whole thing was crazy hot, but she was a little embarrassed when she saw Eric later at dinner. Hope you enjoy the story."

I note that our email response to this story said, in part, "Molly thought this story was pretty hot". Obviously, M planted the seeds for what has become an intriguing relationship by sharing these moments from his past in those early emails. In a way, he was already auditioning for what was to become role here at UCTMW.

He is a crafty, if malingering Correspondent, isn't he?

Mistress Flies Solo

First, thanks to UCTMW’s  southern photo-correspondent and seamstress, Donna, for this contribution. Her generous offer to prepare a cock cozy to aid the rehabilitation of our Western Correspondent following his bout of cock-bite has been greatly appreciated.  Now she’s found the perfect accessory for Mistress to try out on the WC’s special occasion cock,  once rehabilitation is completed.

After we got our 6 inches of snow Thursday, the thermometer plummeted, so Molly and Mick has a very cold Friday here in River City, with temperatures in the single digits last night.  And unlike some people, we did not use it as an excuse for a late night bike ride.

We did try to generate some heat in our own way though. There was some vigorous morning sex, after Mistress chortled through my morning’s effort.

“I’ve already told him that I am happy to come inspect and help him nurse that frozen cock to life, Slave… what more can we do?”

Then Mistress stopped by my office for some post-lunch worship.  

Yum.

WE met some friends for dinner after work, slogging through one of our more charming urban neighborhoods, through hard packed snow and a little slush.  By the time we were back in the car and headed home, it was fairly late, we were very cold, and I was feeling the relaxing buzz of a Jamieson, neat.

“Will you be in the mood to fuck me tonight, Slave….”

Hmmmm. I was making no commitments. Just looking forward to sliding into a warm bed and cozying up to Mistress.

Then her text message chimed. It was our WC. 

“He’s still talking about his need for rehabilitation, Slave….”

“Doesn’t he know a good ambulance chaser….”

“and how mean a General Counsel you are….”

Awww. Poor M.

“I’m reminding him of my offer to come inspect…. Nurse him back to health.”

“Nothing like a hands on CEO, Mistress….”

“And I’m also telling him that Slave isn’t sure he wants to fuck me tonight.”

Ahhh. The gauntlet is thrown down. What is a slave to do?

At home we prepare for bed, after fending off complaints from a surly teen about our nerve in entering her room to bid her goodnight.

Mistress is naked, soft and warm. And she is sharing a few more messages with M before signing off for the night.

As I get cozier with her, my thoughts turn to more carnal subjects, and I am about to reach for one of Mistress’s more responsive zones when she throws the curve ball.

“Hand me the Hitachi, Slave….”

Ohhh?

“I’m happy to handle those duties myself, Mistress….”

“No…. I’m in charge here, and I will be happy to handle it all by myself.”

Oh my…. I wonder if I am about to become redundant.

But I dutifully turn over the power tool, switching it on for her.

“Are you sure you don’t want me to do the honors, Mistress?”

“No Slave….. I’m going to do it the way B (M’s wife) does…. Feel free to watch, and learn…..”

So I cuddle in tight, kissing her deeply as her hand works away under the covers, the buzz of the machine dampened a bit by the warm comforter that shrouds us.

At some point she reaches for my cock, which is already filling out. Apparently it had not gotten the message  that it was not needed, at least not yet.

With remarkable efficiency, Mistress soon brought herself up and over the edge, quaking and sobbing in a remarkably robust climax.

And by now her Slave was definitely in the mood to participate.

“You can put this away now Slave….. and then you can fuck me….”

“Happily, Mistress.”

Mistress Demands an IME

First off, thanks for the very kind and thoughtful review over at MissBehavior yesterday. Here is the link:Miss Behavior

It’s good to get that sort of feedback from a fellow blogger who is clearly paying attention to our usually true, if fantastical, antics here at UCTMW.

We really did have a snow day here in River City yesterday. School was cancelled for the surly teens. And since Mick and Molly carpooled in our only 4WD vehicle, Molly could not linger here at home for her planned “date” with our Western Correspondent.

That did free her up from the anticipated embargo, and she indulged my cock yesterday morning, as the wet, thick snowflakes fell, after I had performed sufficient worship duties to justify such a boon.

When it snows here, the whole City seems to fall to its knees, cowering at the slippery white stuff, as if it doesn’t happen this time every year. So it seemed appropriate that our lunch engagements were cancelled, and we could reschedule lunch together.

And of course that also meant that Slave would be falling to his knees, to provide Mistress with some additional worship before we indulged our culinary cravings at a local chili parlor.

As I knelt to help Mistress remove a snow dampened boot, I asked if she had been in touch with our Western Correspondent, even though their date had been cancelled.

“Yes, Slave…..”.

“And was he frustrated about missing that date, Mistress?”

She was pealing back one leg of those smooth black tights to give me access to those luscious folds. I was planning on feeding my addiction to her sweet, musky juices. And I did not wait for her answer before digging in. This was the “palate cleanser” preceding our lunch, like a musky sorbet. Yum.

Soon Mistress was distracted too, and it was not long before her hips were rising out of her “throne”, pushed against the door, her head throne back, stifling a moan of release so as not to disturb my colleagues, passing by in the hallway beyond the door.

“Nice, Slave…..”

“My pleasure, Mistress…..”

As she reassembled her chic outfit, I asked her to finish the story about her conversation with M.

“Well we talked….. and I must have provoked him a bit, because later he said he “took care of himself”, before going back to bed.

“Ahhhh…. Still malingering after that sad frost bite plight, I see.”

But then later, I received a disturbing, if a bit incredible, email from M’s union steward, a certain Johnny “Big Fingers” Calamari, of Local 69, International Brotherhood of Teamsters. (Apparently the Newspaper Guild was a little too high falootin’ for our WC.)

The email contained the usual hyperbolic rhetoric about M’s sad and pathetic decline after his unzipped, commando sub-freezing bike ride, and the horrific calamity it had (allegedly) caused his special occasion cock.

Yadda, Yadda, Yadda.

There were threats of an OSHA investigation, and an extortionate demand for compensation in small hundred dollar bills, delivered to a truck stop that very night somewhere outside of Pueblo, Colorado.

But the exclamation point on this lowbrow attempt at extortion was the attached photo:

If Senor “Big Fingers” was to be believed, it seemed that the special occasion cock had fallen right off, with the exemplary specimen now preserved as evidence in a cocktail of formaldehyde and Cuervo.

After forwarding her this heinous email, I was quickly on the phone to our Publisher, with my General Counsel hat firmly in place.

“Mistress….. this is the problem with having a field office, with no HR staff on the ground. How do we know that this is really M’s damaged cock?”

“Don’t you lawyers have a way of investigating this sort of claim, Slave?”

“We do …. It’s called an independent medical exam (IME)…. You send some malingering Plaintiff or employee to a health care provider of your choice, and they inspect the alleged damage….”

“I don’t think it will take some expert to verify this claim, Slave…. Book me a seat on the next plane out….. and make sure M and his union rep know I am on the way to conduct this IME personally…..”

“Your wish is my command, Mistress…..”

HNT/ Ouch!

On Sunday, our switch day, Mistress got to sport some clothes pins on her firm and succulent breasts, at the direction of our Western Correspondent.  On Monday, this blog described the experience, and we even had a lovely shot of both of her wonderful breasts all “pinned” up for the occassion.

But when we sorted through the comments, Mistress was a little surprised:

“No one commented on my breasts, Slave…..”

Yes, we do pay attention to your fun and helpful comments.

“Maybe it’s because I buried that picture midway through the story, Mistress…. I didn’t want to give away what your punishment was by sticking the little lovelies above the fold….”

“M did mention it though…. He thought the photo was very hot…..”very nice breasts, Molly” is what he said. Though apparently B (his wife) also has some pretty hot breasts.”

“I am sure that yours would hold up very well in a side by side comparison, Mistress.”

Maybe we should schedule that, M…. what do you say?

So just in case you missed Monday’s shot, I am featuring it again, along with a lovely close-up out take from Sunday’s “punishment”, as choreographed by our Western Correspondent.

Fortunately, he did not impose an embargo yesterday. Mistress stopped by for some post lunch worship, and after I had done my pleasant duties, still there on my knees in front of her spread legs, she had a suggestion…. Well, I considered it more of an order…..

“Now, take a picture slave, and send it to M ….”

“Of course, Mistress.”

I snapped one of her in her “throne” legs spread, one boot off, and one leg of tights off, her clean shaven folds still glistening, a smug little smile on her face, then zapped it off to Mike for his approval.

If she is free to cavort with her Slave on the afternoon before a planned “date”, she at least can show her gratitude with a smutty photo.

And, as it turns out, their date is now in jeopardy. She had planned to stay home a bit later this morning, for their scheduled “conference call”, but now the snow is falling, schools are closed, and it seems she will have to drive with me, in our only 4 wheel drive UCTMW mobile unit.

Poor dears. Let’s hope  they can figure a way to reschedule soon. Otherwise, our WC is likely to fall even further behind on his 2011 strategic plan.