At Last.... (with musical accompaniement).

Some of you gave old Mick some serious shit yesterday for whining about our “horrid”  56 hour draught here at UCTMW World HQ.

It had been since Thursday morning …. And Mistress was not scheduled to return until 1 pm or so Saturday from her trip to visit her very old but still feisty grandmother.

Yeah... I know. I'm spoiled. But could be that just makes it worse, when Mistress and I are apart? Even if just briefly?

I dutifully kept my vow of “no touching” without Mistress’s consent, passing the time with some yard work, tax document preparation, and visiting my own cranky whiner of a mother. I tried to avoid being  the sad, lonely guy in this song.

(Hmmm…. Maybe my whining is hereditary…. Though her whining seems more to do with ambient noise in her condo, whereas mine focuses on missing my beloved CEO).

While I had a chance for a couple of brief conversations with her, Mistress was always in close proximity to her mother or grandmother while she was away, even at bedtime, so there was no opportunity for any naughty or intimate chat. I just didn't know what to do with myself.

During the course of my Saturday morning, I did receive a textual taunt:

“It’s ass fucking day. Slave….”

But finally, Mistress pulled into our drive, dropped off by her mother. I was in our backyard, gave her a wave, and briefly finished up filling a  trash bin with some of last fall’s leaves before helping her carry her overnight bag up to our room.

  

At Last…. Mistress was home.

Of course, I offered to take her to bed and lavish her with some physical attention immediately.  But it was a gorgeous, warm and sunny day here in River City.

“They’ll be time enough for that Slave…. First, a bike ride to get the kinks out after that long drive….”

“Sure… but save a few kinks for me, Mistress.”

The bike ride was glorious, but after about an hour we were back and…. Thanks to the gods… the two sulky and bored teens had decided on an outing to the outlet mall.

Amazingly the house was empty now..

We relaxed a bit…. lying in bed. I had showered to make sure I was “spanking” clean for Mistress.

“Get out my equipment, Slave…. And bring a riding crop too…”

Gulp.

I collected her harness, the accompanying dildo, and lubricant. AS she slid into it, tightening it to fit her lush body, I found the crop in the corner of our closet and handed it to her.

“Get in position, Slave….”

“But why the crop, Mistress….”

“You know why…. You were certainly less than enthused to see me this afternoon Slave….”

“But….”

“I would have expected you to rush over and greet me when I pulled in…. instead…you kept raking those leaves….”

Thwack….

“Ouch….”

I tried to minimize my offense… “I was just finishing the task so we could go upstairs together…” or some such. She would have none of it. And it turned out she also thought I was less than sweet and charming when we talked on the phone while she was gone.

"It reminded me how distant you were sometimes when we were commuting."

No, that was not good. Not at all. No wonder she was itching to apply some good punishment. Best to leech those bad vibes out of her system pronto, even at the expense of my temporary discomfort.

By now the blows were raining down. My ass was getting increasingly tenderized, and I was squirming on the bed.

“Hold still, Slave… you’re just making things worse for yourself….”

I tried. Believe me I did. But man, that crop was hurting my bony old white ass.

“My, that is getting pretty red, Slave… maybe I should take a picture….”

“Feel free, Mistress.”

I figured that she could not snap a photo and clobber me with the crop at the same time.

But, At LAst (yet again), she  was done with the crop, admiring her handywork, her hands sliding over the welts that she had created.

“Nice…. Slave…. But now, get in position for the good part….”

I settled back onto the bed, my hips under a pillow.

She straddled me, then slid her tool home….

“”How’s that, Slave…. “

“Ummmm…. Nice Mistress.”

Soon she was picking up the pace, filling me quite effectively… and working herself into that lovely frenzy that delivers a lunging, moaning climax for her.  I remember her nails digging into my back, her hot breath on my neck when she collapsed onto me, spent.

When she extracted herself, rolling off to remove her harness and deposit on the floor for me to tuck away later, she gave me some additional instructions.

“Go put in your device, Slave…”

I made sure I hopped to…. I was not going to cross her again today, and I had some business of my own to tend to….finally.

Bench Strength

I hope all of our readers enjoyed the wonderfully detailed and sexy blog from our Senior Correspondent yesterday. It was certainly a relief for your Executive Editor to know that I could feed this particular beast with some quality entertainment on Friday morning, even though I would be up late then out early, taking Surly teen #1 on a college visit.

It’s nice to have the depth of reporting and writing acumen here at UCTMW to provide cover without missing a beat when the Editor feels like being a slacker!

St. Pat’s Day here was a busy one. I was off to work early, all locked up in my cage, and Mistress was at home, with lots of pent up demand following that long 36 hours of so of sexual wasteland.

And, in case you are wondering, she did allow her dutiful Slave to fuck her Thursday morning before snapping the lock on my cage. I just wasn’t permitted to let her come, on orders of her Personal Trainer. It required a deft touch, because I could tell that Mistress was particularly horny, all amped up with the teasing she had gotten from M and me through the prior day.

I mean, requiring her to play with her little swollen clit every time she went to the loo? M, you had worked her into a frenzy.

So, when she offered to let me take my own pleasure, it seemed almost too cruel. But this Slave is weak. And writing the blog had gotten me rather needy too…. So in a moment of weakness I fully exploited the opportunity presented to me.

With the hard steel ring for my cage already in place, it probably took me a little longer than normal to get to the point where I was begging her permission. And when I exploded into her…. Well, I just hope the girls’ shower was turned on to muffle my moan.

“My goodness Slave, that must have been a good one….”

“Uhhh…. Yeahhh….”

Articulate, huh?

Later in the morning, Mistress had her “training” session with M. I’m sure she made some interesting sounds of her own. When she called me on her own drive to work she seemed pleased with herself.

“Done, Slave…..”

“And how many, Mistress?”

“At least three, Slave…. “

“And did M get to play too….”

“He did, Slave…. He seemed to enjoy himself rather well.”

So it sounded as if Mistress’s long suffering was rewarded.

Fortunately, she was able to drop by for a late ” lunch”. Naturally, there was time in my office for me to check out that green St. P Day thong she had emailed me before her date (It’s posted on Thursday blog).

(Green undies must have been the rage on Thursday. I understand that Tammy at All MIne wore some over his own cock cage when he went out for a few beers and some NCAA action with his friends).

Soon Mistress’s bright green thong was drooped around one leg, and I was on my knees, adding to Mistress’s O count for the day. She had some catching up to do.

At around 6 pm, it was time to change into my Tux for our annual gathering of the Friendly Sons. It’s an affair that is all male, but which seems in my mind to have lost its gregariousness as the years have passed Maybe the Sons are just getting too old and boring. Or the event too predictably routine. It’s not like the days when all got rowdy and smoked cigars into the night. Instead, it seems that we spend a good deal of time clapping ourselves on the back in congratulations that we lasted yet another year.

Boring.

Then again, maybe I was just anxious to get out of my cage. Sin, you may disagree, but I suspect I was the only Friendly Son with that sort of accessory hidden behind my cumberbund.

By the time I made it home, both Mistress and Slave were rather tuckered out. And I had an early departure time with our daughter.

For her part, Mistress was off with her mother to visit her aging grandmother a few hours away. It was an overnight trip

So Slave and Mistress have actually gone without sex for nearly two days as I type this.

Ouch.

I passed the time last night by making dinner for my daughter, nephew, son-in-law and two cute grandkids. Then caught some basketball. Congratulations to Suzanne and her alma mater! Good pick in that game….

Then it was off to a lonely bed. Mistress had no privacy, so there wasn’t even a chance for some smutty pre-sleep chat.

I woke with one of those nagging cock’s, and was sorely tempted to use a little self-help. But without permission, it just would not have been right.

And, quite frankly, it seems odd to be writing this blog at all, with no one up in the bed to present it to for reading while I consume her sweet juices under the covers.

Fortunately, Mistress should be home by around 1pm.

We have some catching up to do!

From Our Senior Correspondent... A Few of their Favorite Things

 (Mick recommends the following musical accompaniement. )

A couple of days ago when I knew I would be filling in for Mick while he recovers from the annual salute to his ancestral roots, I suggested to Bill that we share with you a few things that really get our motors started. We decided to leave my red bottom and his mighty swing arm off the list because you already know how important that is to us. The choices were tough but eventually Bill chose my clamped boobs and I chose his love notes. Oral sex was the big winner for us both.  

Bill’s Choice – Clamped Nipples

Bill prefers boobs to be large and for the nipples to be clamped. He thinks of breasts as one of the perfect sex toys of the human body for both giving and receiving pleasure.

My blue-gray top in the picture is one of Bill’s favorites to ramp up a bit of sexy nipple play. Just today he dropped his voice into that low and slow Dom range and ordered me to get the top from my dresser and take it to him. He held it up for me to slip my arms into and then told me to hold still while he laced it up, positioning my breasts just where he wanted them. After admiring the lacy texture with his tongue and using the pads of his thumbs to rub the damp lace over my nipples so they would stand up proudly, he told me to clasp my arms over my head. He leaned forward, grabbing the ribbon bow in his teeth. As he pulled his head back, the ribbons holding the front of the shirt closed loosened bit by bit until my right breast came tumbling out.

His lips were ready and waiting to draw my nipple and some of the surrounding breast tissue into his warm, moist mouth. He gave me a good solid sucking and tongue flicking, adding a bit of tooth and then quickly snapped on a nipple clamp -which I can only assume he had hidden in his jeans pocket- then he sweetly used his tongue to soothe and ease the sharp sting of the clamp. His head leaned forward again as he used his nose to push back the lace still covering my left breast. As my breast slipped out from the fabric, equal attention was paid to that nipple with sucking, tonguing and biting followed by a quick clamping.  Ouch! A good ouch that makes me moan and drip, making both of us anxious for further play.

Donna’s Choice - Love Notes

Bill’s love notes have always been a huge turn-on for me. I have a wonderful notebook he put together for me titled “Why I Think the Way I Think About You”.  It is a collection of handwritten and typed pages as well as page after page of pictures that he compiled for me when he had to be away for six long months. I also have pages and pages of letters that he writes for me about everything from the specific words he wants to hear me add to our playtime to instructions about choosing bras and panties that will please him. But, the really unusual notes he has given me are the instruction strips and my set of “Getting Down to Business” cards.

The instruction strips are kept in a bag in a bedside table. Every once in a while Bill will order me to reach into the bag and draw a strip of paper.  I know we will be following the directions exactly. Here are a couple of samples: I will lie back on the bed. You will crawl between my legs and begin by rubbing your boobs over and around my balls and cock. When I tap your head you will move further down and lick and suck my cock. After I cum, you will scoot up, straddling my face while I make you climax at least two times. Here’s another: You will lie on your back with your head off the edge of the bed. I will stand with my balls over your face. I will lean over and use the Hitachi on your pussy while you lick and suck my balls.

The “Getting Down to Business” cards are things he wants me to ask or beg him for. For example: ”I want a butt plug and a spanking, please Sir.” Or ”I’ve been a bad girl. Spank me, finger me, then cum on my pink bottom, please Sir.” From time to time Bill will leave one taped to the bathroom mirror or leaning on my laptop keyboard and I know that sometime that day I must say those words and he will follow through.

Oral Sex-That All Occasion Dance of Joy

I suspect that when my Home Economics teacher from high school lectured my class on the importance of developing shared interests with one’s spouse, she was thinking along the lines of cooking or tennis rather than oral sex. But, like any decent student, I drew the pertinent information from her lecture and applied it to my life.  For me the concepts that stood out were sharing, eating, and playing with balls,  and I have applied those lessons well! Oral sex is such a versatile endeavor and one of our all time favorites! Bill is quite fond of me giving him some oral attention on long car trips just to keep things from getting boring as he drives along. He particularly enjoys cranking up his Smooth Jazz Radio or the Jimmy Buffett channel while I pay homage to his very special equipment. Back at home, every once in a while I buy a box of flavored condoms to add some zip to the lick. Banana and pina colada are my personal favorites, and Bill’s rule is that the condom must be rolled onto his penis using only my mouth, no hands...alas, what a hardship. One time I tried those mints that are strong enough to give a little electric shock to the head of the penis. That mistake hasn’t been repeated and Bill made sure I learned the lesson that anything new touching his penis requires prior approval.  It’s all good.

Yesterday morning I found a note under my coffee mug that combined all of these favorites. It was a simple note that said: Crotchless Red Panties. Red Boa.  Paddle. Now.

Any guesses as to what was on his mind? How great is that!

Mistress's St Pat's Day Greeting

Slave was off at work, safely locked in his cage.

Mistress was home from her bike ride, waiting for the call to start her training session with our Western Correspondent and her personal trainer.  No doubt the Hitachi was on hand. and those clothespins too.

But isn't it nice that she took the time to tease me with an email with the heading "Happy St. Patrick's Day, Slave." And attached this photo?