To the Peak and Back

Well, of course there was some gratifying morning sex here at our little Mountain Hideaway on Wednesday. I recall Mistress grappling for my cock after I had feasted on her, the laptop set aside now, and her compliment.

“Oh goody. The morning cock.”

You may know the type, hard and eager without much encouragement. Mistress shouldn’t have to work to hard for that effect should she?

But the real story today is a little travelogue about Mistress and our 2nd sullen teen – almost 18 now – who had an excellent adventure worth documenting here.

At our Ski Mountain, the most dramatic run is not “lift served”. No, you need to hike there, toting skis, or board. It’s a long and demanding climb. The locals with their well acclimated lungs and hard bodies can do it in 45 minutes or so. But for flatlanders like us – schedule at least 90 minutes if you are lucky.

The hike stretches across a long narrow ridgeline with amazing views across this wild and beautiful state and north to another. (the picture at the top gives you a good sense of the trail, which starts on the left and extends to the very top, maybe 1.5 miles).

And as the final destination seems to get tantalizingly closer, the trail gets steeper, narrower and dicier. Sometimes you can be plowing forward through knee deep snow, grateful for the footprints of those that preceded you. Other times, like yesterday, the snow is thin and your stiff and heavy ski boots are slipping and sliding on loose rock and ice.

But what awaits is a long and challening run over barely tracked snow down a dramatic slope until you finally arrive to the more routine runs where the mere mortal skiers have been looking up at you in wonder.

Now Molly and Mick have done this hike in years past. But it’s been a few years for me. Quite frankly, in my 60 year old decrepitude, it’s a tough physical challenge that I can happily forego – been there, done that – even though I do miss that sense of accomplishment when the run is over, and the views along the way.

So when our teen said this week “I want to go to the peak”, I was a little reluctant. Quite frankly, I didn’t think she knew what awaited or had the mettle to stick it through. And believe me, there comes a point on that hike when your body says “no mas”, but, quite literally, you can’t turn back.

I was not into seeing her hit that point and having to deal with the consequences.

But then Mistress stepped in.

“I’ll go with you…..”

I raised an eyebrow. Quietly lobbied against the risk. But they were undeterred.

So off they went.



Gutsy and determined.

And I got to watch them take their turns down that wide, steep slope, slowly but surely, about two hours after they headed up that narrow trail with a bunch of other hardcore skiers following behind.

The teen made it first, on her snow board, collapsing onto her back on the snow next to me.

“I’m really not that tired. It was just hard on my lungs sometimes….”

Uhh, yeah. At 12,500 feet, climbing up. It’s a killer.


Mistress made it down a few minutes later, a broad smile on that beautiful face.

“My legs are like rubber, Slave.”

No doubt.

So here is to Mistress and our sullen but adventurous teen. I am proud of both of them.

Slave Gets A Wake Up Call

With a little less time on the slopes this week (due to our later start time), Molly and Mick have made sure there is a little more time for R and R.

Yesterday morning, I cleverly manipulated Mistress to have me deploy my aneros, after she read the daily blog about such activities going “mainstream”.

I had been slurping away at her succulent folds as she read, both the blog and the related Salon article, pausing for occasional comments.

“Did you like the way that guy offered to bend over for the reporter, to aid in her ”research””.

“Pretty funny, Slave… now why don’t you go put in your device….”

“Of course, Mistress….”

I lubed up the little sucker and drove it home, then rejoined Mistress in bed.  My cock was already feeling the effect.

After making sure Mistress had her “starter” cum, courtesy of my lips and tongue, I was more than ready to take my own pleasure. But before granting me permission, Mistress made sure that I was suitably firm, groping down below with her fingers.

“Nice, Slave….. and , yes, you may now fuck me.”

Maybe it was a good night’s sleep, combined with the little probe, but I seemed particularly anxious to get “there” …. Maybe a little too anxious.  Soon I found myself perilously close to the edge, though I had not delivered Mistress the additional orgasm or two that she has come to expect, or asked for permission…

Yow….. “code red”….I pulled back, just in time…..

“What was that about, Slave…..”

She’s not using to my cock going MIA in the midst of the action.

“Sorry…. Got a little too … close ….Mistress……”

Had I reverted to adolescence or something?  We both laughed.  And the laughter helped bring me back away from the edge of the cliff, allowing me to resume normal programming.

I made sure Mistress was suitably pleasured then, before asking for permission. And when permission was granted…. Well let’s just say that the deferred expectations made the reward all the more compelling.  I collapsed in a sweaty heap next to her.

We had a lovely day on the mountain with the teens. A cloudless sky required plenty of sunscreen. And by the time we came back, my legs were dead and my body needed a little rest. 

After handling some pesky work matters, we found ourselves in bed, snuggled up and dozing off before it was time to fix dinner.

But after about 40 minutes or so of shut-eye, I was awakened by a Mistress who knew what she wanted.

She rolled onto me, with a little sigh of desire.

“I want my cock now Slave….”

Who was I to say “no”, when duty calls.

Still a bit groggy, I just laid back as Mistress slowly and deliberately ground her needy cunt against me, until I began to respond, firming up suitably.  Getting more and more, “in the mood”.

“I hope you don’t mind me just rubbing against you like this Slave….”

“Of course not…. But I suspect my cock would feel ever so cozy inside you right now, Mistress.”

She kept grinding.

I kept getting harder.

“All in good time, Slave….”

Fortunately, Mistress must have felt the need for something more “filling”.

She slid, adjusted, handled me, and was soon taking my cock for a long, hard ride.

Ahhh.

She took   her time, letting herself build up to one of those moaning, groaning comes that leaves her face all mottled, chest heaving, eyes squeezed shut, off in her own world of lust.

Rolling off me, she had one more demand.

“Fuck me now, Slave….”

Mainstream Media Coming From Behind.

Mistress, her Slave and the two sullen teens have gotten into a comfy groove here at our mountain hideaway.

While we very much enjoy the time the two of us get to spend here together, we realize this may be the last “spring break” we will share for some time with the teens, after about 12 springs in a row together here.

They’ve grown from cute little ski bunnies, working on craft projects acquired at the local WalMart, to the sullen and cranky semi-adults which they’ve become, buried in their technology, and barely grunting their acknowledgment when we try to engage them. One will be heading to college in the fall. The other seems headed to a year of study abroad.

So it seems our days of close quarters parenting are rushing to an unexpected and sudden end.

The horror.

My adoptive skills are relatively advanced though, so unlike springs past when I would play the drill sergeant, hustling all of us into our ski costumes and up the mountain by 9 or so, in time for lessons, or to beat the “crowds” to fresh fallen snow, I have adopted a much more passive approach to scheduling.

(Of course, this is also in deference to Mistress, who had been known to enjoy a little extra time in the sack too.)

So this week, we’ve been heading up the mountain at the shockingly late time of 10:30 am, with no forced quota for the number of runs expected either by lunch time or the end of the day.

This more leisurely pace seems to have improved everyone’s mood.

The later departure time also gives Slave some extra time in the am for blogging, staying in touch with work, and also tending to Mistress’s needs.

Yesterday, after I had prepared the blog, answered some work emails, and caught up on world news, I did stumble on an intriguing article in Salon, linked here, entitled, Bringing Up the Rear, which in light and frothy pop journalistic style describes how heterosexual males are enjoying the pleasures of anal penetration with increasing frequency these days.

The article is “packed full” with cute little stories of lads about town describing how their girl friends have introduced various probes and strap-ons to deepen their sexual fun.

And sure enough, the girls like it too!

So, folks, yet another “taboo”, seems to be falling by the way side, blurring the difference between our little, dark sex blog world and what might be called the “lame stream” sexual habits of “normal” folks. The next thing you know, blurry photos of a former governor all harnessed up and putting it to her “first dude” will pop up on the internet, as she bids for a little more “street cred” in advance of 2012.

Of course, the allure of this sort of play has been a feature of this blog from the beginning. We started with our little Aneros, which I tucked into my kit for this trip. And then, two Valentine Day’s ago, before this blog began, Mistress put her strap-on to use for the first time.

I believe it helped adjust my attitude and hers, taking us one step closer to our infamous Contract.

Of course, we aren’t the only ones in our little community dabbling in this territory.

Our WC has been known to enjoy it when his wife B straps on the harness and takes it to him.

And, of course, Suzanne frequently takes her “wife’ Tammy that way, in the “diaper” position.

(Mick is way too ancient and inflexible to handle that approach, BTW).
 

Earlier this week, Ms. Marie had a very educational product review, brought to you by EdenFantasies.com, which described newer, hi-tech approaches to this age old “problem”. It may be only a matter of time before the folks at “Snap-On Tools” get into this emerging market.

It does make me wonder how Bill, our Director of Security - International feels about missing out on this action. Maybe Donna can engineer a way for him to be part of this new and oh so hip movement.

Now, dear readers, all this talk has Mick ready to see if Mistress is ready to wake up, and tell me to go “insert my device.”

Mistress Stands. Slave Delivers.

After missing our last switch day based on my general lameness, I figured Mistress was due for some “special treatment”. With much applause from the sullen teens, I even delayed our departure time for the mountain until 10:30 am,  to assure that there was ample time for the plot to develop in our charming little bedroom here in the great southwest.

So after Mistress had an opportunity to read the blog – with my tongue firmly planted between her thighs as tradition dictates – I told her it was time to face the music.

Some rope was used to bind her wrists together in front.

Then I pulled on the long lead I had left myself, indicating it was time to get out of bed and go for a little walk.

“But Slave… it’s chilly, I’ll get so cold….”

Yeah. The usual whining. Actually the morning sun was shining through the window, warming us nicely. Mistress was not in peril of any goose bumps, let alone  frozen nipples.

I brandished some rather cruel nipple clips we have here, with big dangling rings, just to make my point.

“Do I need to get these out Mistress?”

“Ohhh, God…. Not those.”

“Then come along….”

She co-operated now, fearing for her dainty little buds, and I positioned her under the ring I installed last summer in one of the pine hand carved vegas that cross our low ceiling.

Her arms were raised. The rope was run through the ring, then tied off.

Mistress was going no where.

Her little silk nightie – one I’d gotten for her some holiday past – just grazed her firm ass.  I took the time to snap a few photos form various angles, with Mistress having the right of approval before posting, of course.

Then I grabbed the riding crop which we had tucked into our closet to keep from the prying eyes of house guests.

I also made sure the radio was on – some early Sunday jazz – so that the teens would not be shocked at their parents’ antics.

The first slap of the crop seemed to catch Mistress by surprise.

“Owww…. That hurt Slave….”

It was followed by a few more…..I enjoyed seeing Mistress hop and squirm tethered to the ceiling, up on her toes a bit…. her little “happy dance” was quite delightful.

“Did you miss your switch day last Sunday, Mistress?”

“I did Slave….”

“You seemed to enjoy your little date with M yesterday, Mistress.  I bet you’d like him doing these things to you here, wouldn’t you.”

“Would you like it, Slave?”

She got a sharp slap with the crop for avoiding my question.

“Ohhhh…..”

“Of course I would, but that wasn’t the question, was it Mistress?”

There is nothing like interrogating a bound Mistress with a riding crop at your disposal.

“You know I would Slave.”

At about this time I slid myself up behind Mistress. Reaching around her for a handful of breast .

“I think you’re enjoying this, Slave.”

No doubt she could feel my thickening cock poking from the folds of the blue robe I was wearing.

“Absolutely, Mistress…”

My right hand dipped between her thighs, sliding through those silky, sopping, clean shaven folds.

“And it seems you are too…..”

After stepping back and giving her just a few more slices with the crop, I remarked on how nice and red her bottom had become.  My fingers caressed the little red marks. They would fade soon enough, but it was nice to feel how warm her ass was, as it shifted wantonly against my soothing fingers.

I stepped back again, and pulled the power tool from the its little hideaway, unwinding the extension cord.  Mistress could not tell exactly what I was doing, until she heard the Hitachi “hmmmm” to life.

I embraced her standing body from behind, my cock poking a bit into her ass cheeks, and reached around her with the magic wand.  I could almost feel her body melt as the soft white bulb pressed home against her, her thighs spreading as best they could to accommodate it.

“Now remember, Mistress, you need to ask permission to come.”

The little slut must have been fully primed, because it seemed it was only a minute or so later that she was begging for leave. And I was a pushover – as usual – and gave my consent.

That sent her into some nice shuddering convulsions that had her hanging from her wrist bindings, head dropped down, moaning ever so deliciously.

And by then I was more than ready to join the fun.

So I released her bound wrists from the little ring, and pulled her back to the bed.

Her wrists were still tied, and I pushed them over her head as I took my reward, sliding into her.

Of course, I made sure Mistress came at least one more time before I was the one asking for permission.

As we rested in each others arms afterwards, still with some time before our skis would meet the fresh snow that had fallen overnight, I asked Mistress if I had made up for our missing switch day.

“Of course Slave…. But you scared me with those nipple clips.”

“Maybe next Sunday, Mistress….”