Back at It....With a bad case of PSWSD

Molly, Mick and the surly teens landed back here in River City past midnight on Tuesday morning…. Thanks, Donna for covering for us yesterday. Mick was neither of mind or spirit for cute, pithy, sexy fun.

(I apologize, Donna, for missing your final passage though. I must have been distracted by the lady in the maid’s outfit.)

In fact, I am still scrambling here to get back into charming  mode. Both Molly and I often suffer from a bit of PSWSD on our return from our mountain hideaway (Post Southwest Sun Depression).  There we are relaxed, laid back and recharged.  Here we can easily get  stressed, over-scheduled and drained.

I will spare you the details….just hope that somehow we survive the obligatory meal for 14 we have been required to throw this evening in honor of a family member who has sought refuge in town here from Tokyo for the next week or so.

As Molly said “I mean we are the only family members who both have jobs, so naturally we get to play the hostess and host on a week night.” 

Yep.

(Surly teen 2 had a helpful suggestion: just order a bunch of pizzas. But that would be wrong, wouldn’t it?)

Rest assured that despite the stress of our return to “normalcy”, Mick did make time for a few moments of therapeutic worship for Mistress.  Yesterday, after we dragged our exhausted asses out of bed, and tried to wake up in a hot shower, I made sure Molly laid back on the bed to accept the attention from my tongue and lips that she deserved. Hopefully the little buzz made her day back at work just a tad more acceptable.

And after our trying days, re-emerging in the workplace, and juggling the “needs” of a few family members who just can’t seem to go on without us managing their affairs, I made sure I knelt and lost myself between Mistress’s firm and sexy thighs before heading off to the grocery to re-stock our larder for tonight’s set piece around the extended dining room table.

Molly and I did get a chance to chat with Donna on the way home last night. It was the first time Molly and Donna talked. They covered  careers, travel and   Donna and Bill’s extensive collection of sex toys. 

We clearly need a staff retreat to strengthen the connections between our management team. And maybe share some of those toys that Donna was busy cleaning this weekend. I wonder if there is a kink version of the Meyers-Briggs test that we all could take to verify our “types”?

So if you want sexy fun today in your blog reading today…. I suggest you check elsewhere. Over at ALL Mine, Suzanne is preparing to face the music after losing her virgin ass to Jay following But(t)ler’s sad showing in the NCAA finals. Whether Jay or Suzanne would win that bet had Slave here paying a lot more attention to the tournament this year than I would have after my alma mater crashed and burned in teh third round.

I only lost a bottle of Tequila to a  Texan friend following last night’s Women’s Final. But then my back door virginity went down the tubes some time ago.

Suzanne, please remind Jay to check out the WC’s tutorial. I made sure the link to the right is working.

Hopefully, we can get back in the groove here at UCTMW by this weekend !

Our Senior Correspondent's Spring Cleaning Tips

As I type, Molly,  Mick and the surly teens are lolling at DFW airport, waiting for our flight back to River City. It was a beautiful, if chilly day when we woke in the shadow of the Sangre de Christo Mountains. After some morning sex, Mistress twisted my arm to take a bracing bike ride in 20 degree temperatures. of course, it was well worth it in light of the day to come of sitting on our asses. And speaking of asses, I know the first thing I will do on emerging from our flight tonight is check the But(t)ler  vs. UConn score, if only to learn the fate of Suzanne's virgin ass.  

Good luck Suzanne! (of course, by the time you read this your ass's fate will be decided, at least until your next bet, maybe on the baseball playoffs in October?)

But since I anticipate being tired and cranky in the AM, I prevailed on our Senior Correspondent, Donna, to provide today's entertainment.  I am sure you will all be inspired, and just a little envious of Bill and Donna's extensive collection.

It’s Spring! Yes, it’s time again for the annual Sex Accoutrement Spring Cleaning. It’s that time of year to go through all our tools, toys, implements of instruction and supplies as we continue doing it like bunnies all over the house, on the porch, in the yard and in the woods.

For me, the easiest way to begin is by placing everything within easy reach, separating implements into similar piles. My piles are smackers (strop, paddles, whips, belts, canes and paddles), Liberator ramps, anal, vaginal and clitoral stimulators, sleeves, collars, nipple clamps, boas, blindfolds, handcuffs, under the bed restraint system and lubes (both water based and silicone). Don’t forget your multi-taskers from the kitchen such as wooden spoons, pancake flippers and offset spatulas, the glass dildos stored in the ice maker or the pocket rockets in the glove boxes of your vehicles.

The goal now is to handle every single implement, determining condition, variety, quality, quantity, as well as to check the “best if used by” dates on lubes and condoms. Hopefully we all keep our items of pleasure fastidiously clean, but even so they can develop wear and tear that we may have missed in the heat of the moment.

Start with one pile, for example, butt plugs. Separate the butt plugs into vibrating and non- vibrating. Now do a careful inspection for any areas where there may be chips or cracks that might be a spot where bacteria could hide. If you notice any, toss the plug in the trash, it’s not worth the risk. Clean as recommended by the manufacturer, dry thoroughly and replace batteries to be sure you will be getting maximum power and zip-a-dee-doo-dah.

Move on to the next group, say…maybe the vaginal toys. If your rabbit vibrator looks more like a decrepit wilting cactus than a satisfactory dance partner for your g-spot and clit, let it go. If you have tiny little vaginal vibrators left over from those days before several ten pound babies took your passageway to the light of day, why keep them? Are you going to hand them down through the family like precious heirlooms? I can guarantee that while you may have sentimental attachment, your heirs will have their own stash and won’t really be so desirous of yours.

A Busy Switch Day for Mistress

Sunday was our last full day here at our little hideaway, and also the end of the ski season at our beloved Mountain. The wind was howling most of the day, some strange front blowing in form the west, which shortened the time we spent on the slopes, but also gave Molly and Mick a little more leisure time for what we also enjoy doing behind the closed door of our room here.

While my bottom still had a little left over glow from the evening before, I knew I would be letting Mistress down if I did not exercise my switch privileges. I suspect that she looks forward to those occasions when she no longer has to “take charge”, and likes to see me put some additional energy into creating the scenarios that leave her “helpless” to avoid whatever I may have in store for her.

So I was determined not to let her down, even though she did sleep in a little later than normal Sunday morning.

After drinking her coffee and checking a few of your blogs – I think she particularly enjoyed  Suzanne’s description of getting attention first from Jay and then from Tammy early on their Sunday morning back east – Mistress knew her time had come when I began hauling some rope and other items from out little toy drawer.

She co-operated nicely as her hands were secured to the ring bolts at opposite sides of our bed, so they were spread wide, on her back for ready access.

Then I improvised a spreader bar from a handy ski pole and ski pass lanyards, necessity being the mother of invention, so that her legs were also spread, if not as rigorously as her arms.

Now she was mine….

I spent some time gnawing on her lovely nipples, making them firm, and also making Mistress squirm a bit against her restraints.

I straddled her then, feeding her my cock, which she took to with very pleasurable gusto, until it was firm and bouncing out between the folds of my navy robe. It made a nice popping sound when I finally pulled it out.

“Nice Mistress, you do that well with no hands…. But Maybe I should go make myself some breakfast now, …let you languish a bit.”

“Don’t you dare, Slave… what if one of the girls decides to walk in here looking for something….”

“I suppose that would be a problem for you….”

Of course, I had no plan to go too far. Instead, I reached for the nipple clamp I had tucked into my robe pocket….

“Ohhh …. Noooo ….. I hate those……”

She really does hate them, particularly when I first attach them. But her nipples were so firm and inviting. And once the little sucker was adjusted and firmly attached it seemed the pain was tolerable for her.

That’s when I reached for the Hitachi, all plugged in and ready to go next to our bed. I suspect the sound of her favorite power tool distracted her from the ouch of her nipple. She knew that relief was in sight. And her squirms began almost reflexively, even before it was applied to the right spot.

She moaned with gratification when I slid it against those already glistening folds, all nicely clean shave. But almost instantly there was this little rush of breath and convulsion….

I immediately pulled the tool away, and tutted in my sternest voice ….

“What was that……”

She seemed genuinely embarrassed…..

“It was just a little mini-one Slave, I guess I just was too excited….”

“Bad girl …. You must like that nipple clamp more than you let on….”

“Noooo…. It’s not the clamp…. But everything else…”

“Right, I will file that away….now remember, you need permission for the next one….”

I slowly ran the Hitachi back up the inside of her leg, made her squirm a bit to force her parts against it. And soon she was pumping her hips for all they were worth for the right contact… and begging me properly for permission.

As I said, “OK, Mistress, you may come”, her body exploded against the churning device, a long gasp coming from her lungs, and I reached for her nipple clamp to pop it loose. If the other one had been a “mini”, this was more of a “maxi”.

But I wasn’t done with her just yet. I gave her a brief respite, then pressed it home one more time, and she built herself to a final writhing cum – with permission of course – before begging me to turn it off.

“Ohhh….. now it’s really sensitive, Slave.”

I took that cue to switch off the tool, let her catch her breath, and unlashed her legs from the ski pole, before taking her the more traditional way, her legs still bound to the bed, at my mercy.

And my reward was well with the wait, and the choreography.

After that it was back to parenting, taking the kids up the mountain for a few final runs of our season, and what may be the last of about 14 years together here for “spring break”. It was a nice run, starting with them as little ski tots, to the surly teens that they have become, one headed to college next year, and another to study abroad. But somehow I think Molly and Mick can make our own fun together next season.

Now this is where our Sunday stories usually end, but, as they say in the infomercials… “there’s more.”

M and Molly had not had much time to talk this weekend. We were with the kids, and he was celebrating his birthday with his own extended family about 250 miles to the north of us here.

It was about 7:15 pm. We were relaxing, reading after taking the kids to the movies. It was about time for Slave to make some dinner for us. Then Mistress’s text message went off.

“It’s M, Slave… he wants to know if I can talk….”

“Of course you can, Mistress….. I will get dinner started.”

So I was up and out of the room, and Mistress was left in bed….

I was whipping up a polenta and chicken combination when the door opened about 10 minutes later.

Mistress slid up against me and whispered in my ear.

“he wants to have a little date, Slave…. Is that OK”.

“Of course, this will take a bit longer, Mistress… go for it.”

I had the TV turned on to mask any moans of delight from curios teens – or me for that matter – and Mistress slid back into our room to do her thing.

Time passed. Maybe 30 minutes. Dinner was just about ready. I did not want to disturb her, but I knew the girls were expecting to be fed at some point. So I discretely tapped on her door.

“Yes….”

I sensed a little annoyance at the interruption. But opened to door a crack, curious as I was….

Mistress was still in bed, under the covers, looking flushed as she turned to look at me. I could not tell if her little tool was out and in use.

“Uhhh…. Sorry to interrupt, but dinner is ready, Mistress.”

“Give me ten more minutes, Slave.”

“Of course…..”

So I put dinner on simmer, sat and enjoyed part of a thrilling NCAA women’s basketball game, and waited until Mistress’s “training session” was completed.

And sure enough about 10 minutes later, she emerged, looking happy and energized, almost like a regular work out.

“How many, Mistress…..”

“Three Slave…. He had me do two, and I thought we were done …. But then he insisted on one more….”

“Aww,… poor Mistress.”

So our readers will be happy to know that Mistress had a full switch day, with attention from both of her men before the day was done.

Well, I better think about waking her now. We have a long trip back to River City today, and a few things to take care of before we hit the road.

Ouch.

We were settled into a lovely meal last night.  Just the two of us on a "date night". The scene featured a  “contemporary Spanish” menu in an old charming Hacienda built in the early 1800’s, long before these parts were under the flag of the USA.

Mistress was glorious as always, black dress highlighting her newly recharged tan, and some sparkling southwestern jewelry providing some flash.

As we waited for our entrees, she asked:

“How’s the ass, Slave?”

“Still a little tender, Mistress….”

So maybe we need to back up a bit here…..

Our day started with some robust morning sex, not untypical, but still quite satisfying. I devoured, while she read Donna’s comic review of the alleged G-spot vibrator.

Donna and Bill definitely did their best to bring the most out of the little guy, didn’t they? And as Aisha commented, UCTMW probably has to be conscious of potential worker’s comp claims of she keeps launching the products she is putting through their paces.

At the least, we may need to get Bill a facemask and helmet.

And after the computer was put aside, my work-a-day cock needed no further encouragement than Mistress’s question, “would you like to fuck me now, Slave?”

Our legs were rather dead after pushing around all that spring skiing slush in recent days, so we opted to pack up our towels and swim suits and head to a hot springs spa across the gorge from our little hideaway. It’s a place we’ve described in earlier entries. Quiet and contemplative, where you can see a woman braiding her husband’s long flowing hair,  and a man walks around with a little white card reading “whisper, please.”

Last summer, without the kids, we even acquired a little private space with a pool for some semi-public sex. But we were in close quarters on this trip, simply relishing the bright sunshine and soothing waters, while nagging one another about sunscreen.

Of course, Mistress and I love the tranquility of this place, where the ancient ones came for the soothing natural springs long before we anglos showed our avaricious heads in these parts.

On the other hand, the teens thought it could be much improved if there were waiters going chair to chair offering  Pina Coladas and nachos.

We headed back in the late afternoon as some high clouds moved in, and decided on a late afternoon bike ride – just the two of us. It was in the 70’s here, the sun was back out, and we plied our normal rolling hills route, much of it into a brisk wind.

It was a beautiful way to get some exercise after a day on our backs lolling in the sun.

But somewhere a long the way, Slave screwed up. Mistress was seeking reassurance about my continued fervor and devotion to her, which I suppose in my thickheaded way should seem rather obvious.

“You seem a little distracted lately, Slave….” was her concern.

And maybe I have been – focused on some work and extended family issues a bit too much these last few days .

But, stupidly, Slave got a little defensive, rather than reassuring, and said some things that disturbed Mistress.

She was upset, throwing a blanket on what had been a very lovely day.

But, give her credit, she knew exactly how to work us both out of this temporary funk.

When we got home, I was a bit sweaty from our day in the sun and vigorous ride.

“I’m going to take a shower, Mistress.”

“No, first you are going to close the door, take off your cloths, and lie on the bed.”

Oops.  I had a feeling I knew where this was headed.

When she could not find the crop, it was my job to “quickly” retrieve it and hand it to her.

She switched on the radio, to cover the sounds she knew we would be making.

The sharp thwacks against my ass.

My howls of pain, which I did my best to muffle into a pillow.

“This is for acting like an asshole, Slave.”

She laid into me harder and longer than I can remember.

I did my very best to avoid twisting and turning my ass in response to her vigorous assault.  But I probably earned a few more hard strokes, simply for failing to be still and take my medicine like a man.

When she was finally done with me, my ass was on fire. And she seemed to enjoy running her fingers along the red marks she had made.

“Wow…. This must have hurt Slave…”

“It did, Mistress.”

By now I had rolled over, and she was toying with my cock with the tip of the crock, slowly bringing it to life.

Things developed from there as you might expect…. Me, using my fingers to rub her juicy little cunt to one preliminary cum. She, riding my cock for two more moaning climaxes, until, exhausted, she rolled over and let me finish the job of restoring the proper balance in our relationship.

The lesson to be taken: what could have been a sad and simmering feud that would put a damper on an otherwise lovely day was extinguished by Mistress taking out her anxiety on my ass.

It definitely cleared both of our heads, and we clung to one another for a long time afterwards in our bed, the late afternoon sun illuminating the mountain outside our window.

So while my ass was still a little tender as we sat through that excellent dinner together last night, the temporary pain was well worth the sacrifice.