Handling the Truth.

We have settled into a nice little rhythm here in the mountains now.

I wake to do my blogging.

Mistress allows that she is now awake, maybe around 7 am here.

I come to share her bed, worship as she reads the blog, then, if she is satisfied (and I make sure she is), I am allowed to take my pleasure from her.

After that a long bike ride, up and down some challenging hills here at 7000 ft.

Some breakfast.

A little telecommuting work, and maybe some chores around the house. Yesterday it was painting an old piece of furniture acquired at a 2nd hand shop for use on our patio.

Mistress of course was out in the sun, naked, making sure I applied sunscreen to that lovely bottom before it got too rosy.

Around 3 pm or so the clouds began to gather for what could have been but never became a pop up thunderstorm. The gods of rain like to tease a lot out here.

Mistress suggested that we move into our chambers.

And she had a surprise.

“You’re going to get fucked in the ass this afternoon Slave…”

“But it’s not Saturday, Mistress…”

“Does it need to be Saturday?”

I suppose it’s her call, isn’t it?

So after a little nap, Mistress made sure I assembled her “supplies”, which I had been told to pack. Soon she was all dressed up in her harness, ready for action.

This got us wondering about Tammy and Carol over at All Mine. There was a bit of a cliffhanger there this weekend. Carol was “babysitting” , and had Tammy acquire a strap-on harness for her use over the holiday weekend. But…. Come on Tammy…. Where’s the update?

In any event, back to our bedroom….

We cuddled and teased a bit before Mistress instructed me to assume the proper position, face down, a pillow under my hips. And then it was Mistress taking me the way she likes. (I’m not nearly flexible enough for that diaper position).

Soon she was having one and then another nice expressive cum as she thrust into me, before she collapsed onto my back, rather satisfied with herself.

“I hope that reminds you who is in charge, Slave…”

I mumbled something expressing consent, from within my little submissive cloud.

“Now go out in your device and get back here and fuck me, Slave….”

I rallied, and hopped to, not wanting to miss that opportunity.

Our evening avoided the collection of friends we had seen Monday, just dinner at Mistress’s favorite Pizza joint: spelt crust with the world’s greatest view.

Over dinner, we talked about an interesting email exchange Mistress had with a reporter from a national publication. The writer, who Mistress checked out to be reputable on her I-phone, was looking to talk to women who would share on the subject of balancing work, kids and a healthy sex life.

She was willing to work with just Molly’s first name and city.

Mistress was intrigued. It’s a subject she thinks is important to talk about. But how much to share?

Should she use her “secret identity” name, or ask the reporter to refer to her as Molly…

And should she just give her the first layer of the truth around the Collins household, or delve into what our readers here know…. The contract, the flirtations with a cuckold lifestyle, bondage.

We played out the interview over pizza and later at a local music venue, listening to some local musicians do their unique country / folk thing.

“So what do you and your husband do to keep things fresh?”

“There’s the office worship…. Then the occasional ass fucking he needs to keep him in line…, you can read all about it in our sex blog.”

My guess is if Mistress went there, the reporter would roll her eyes, label us crazies, and file the interview somewhere in a vault. Then she would go with the more conventional lady describing an occasional “date night” with hubby, where they might “make out” in a parked car and do other “naughty” things.

We left it with Molly giving the reporter a “shallow” view of what it takes to keep things hot at home, and seeing how the reporter handles it.

Somehow, as Jack Nicholson put it in that movie, I doubt this reporter “can handle the truth.”

And I don’t think that Molly and Mick want to risk a whole lot of questions being asked in River City about this lady with the first name who does all sorts of crazy, sexy things with her “Slave” husband.

But we will certainly keep you all up dated.

Sun’s up now here in the Sangres.

Need to brew some coffee and make sure Mistress is properly attended .

The Smoke Clears for Independence Day

Hopefully our readers excused our paucity of words here in exchange for all those lovely photos of Mistress, “languishing” in he switch day “discomfort”. Rest assured that the events of the day left her with a distinct advantage on the Orgasm count, which ended at:

Mistress – 10

Slave – 2

It was all made possible with the help of her handy power tool. While I did not have a chain saw to help with my pruning of trees and bushes, at least in my breaks I had that Hitachi to spell the work of tongue and fingers and make it far more efficient to push that O count higher.

Meanwhile, the WC was only a short drive north of us, and the tone of his text messages to Molly were a little whiney. She had a feeling he was a bit resentful of all the fun he was missing. Either that or his round of golf was sub-par.

AS the day progressed we both read this interesting Article ("Infidelity will keep us together") in the Sunday Times’ magazine, on the subject of fidelity, with both of us reading aloud and commenting  on some of the more thought provoking parts.  For those of you, like us, who have moved onto some more unconventional choices in this area, it is definitely worth reading, and maybe discussing here or elsewhere .  So check it out.

We spent our Sunday evening at home dining with some friends, who left relatively early, giving us some time to rest up for our big July 4^th festivities.

It was about our 7^th annual hosting of a pre-parade party here on our patio, with its stunning views. Fortunately, the wind had shifted some, blowing away the pall of Los Alamos smoke, so we had a clear beautiful day to celebrate, as well as our nation’s birthday.

And I was up early, preparing my apple crisp to go with the Billini’s, cheese, chips and salsa we were serving.

When Mistress woke, I served her a latte, and we settled into some luxurious morning sex, with Mistress riding my cock to several emphatic cums before we flipped the table and Slave earned his own permission to come.

That was followed by a nice exhilarating bike ride, with the mountains and valleys along the way finally clear of the shroud of smoke.

At home set up was relatively simple, and we found we had an hour before our guests arrived.. Mistress settled out on the patio, her kindle in hand, completely naked but for a necklace and sandals.

I picked up some pruning shears.

But Mistress had another task in mind.

“Slave, in this light I can see a few stray hairs down there. Could you get me my razor?”

“Of course, Mistress.”

I found it in the shower and carried it to her. So while I trimmed some of our bushes, Mistress trimmed her own.

“Do you know how much work it is to keep things so tidy for you Slave?”

“I am very appreciative, Mistress….”

Our little reception was enjoyable, an interesting mix of friends in both the local and tourista categories. Around noon we walked the short stroll to the parade, with it’s traditional mix of kitsch and unbridled patriotism.  Here are a few photos.

 ( a float by a local company that works on faces. Divas on parade, and their attendant Slave?).

Afterwards, there was a barbeque on the grounds of a local restaurant, with music by a local band, and a big pig on the spit. A great way to let a lovely afternoon pass, and we were lucky to find seats in the shade.

By 4 or so the band finished their last set, and Mistress and Slave passed on an invite to take the party to another house, then yet another restaurant and band. We’d had enough of company, and strolled home, back through our little town, now abandoned by the revelers who had come from far and wide for the celebration.

So instead of more partying, there was nap time, sex time, and time to read as the sun set over our little chunk of heaven.

When the sun had completely disappeared, the milky way was out in all it’s glory. But to the south, barely noticeable at first, was a red glow stretching out for what must have been 15 miles along the very edge of our horizon. From our vantage the Los Alamos fire was a series of crimson commas and parentheses adorning the distant ridge.

The winds from the north must have cleared the smoke to the south, giving us an amazing view from 60 miles away of the still ferocious blaze that 2000 hearty souls were still fighting to contain.

It put our lazy and indulgent holiday in perspective.

We are two lucky Americans.

Indoor (and Outdoor) Fireworks

It's a big day here in our little town. Molly and MIck are hosting a gathering of friends on our patio, to warm up for our local 4th of July Parade, with it's horses, ancient pickups, mid-wife float and lots of other off-beat Americana. I have to get in motion soon, making an apple crisp and preparing the mix for the Bellini's that Mistress requires on this annual celebration.

But I didn't want to let you readers down on reporting our all day switch activities here in the shadows of the Smokey Sangre de Christo Mountains.

So I am providing a photo montage with a description of some of the props. Allow your imagination provide a more detailed narrative.

ACT I

Location: in the bedroom.

Equipment required: leather cuffs and their little locks; rope; ceiling hook; riding crop; hitachi magic wand:




























































ACT II:

Location: After bike ride, Mistress strips down for some naked sunbathing. Slave devotes himself to pruning bushes and trees, but finds some time to make sure Mistress can "relax" and enjoy her day wothout too many distractions.

Equipment: power tool, leather cuffs, rope, chaise lounge, sunscreen,

While my pruning tools were manual, I made sure to take a few brakes for hydration and to deploy her favorite  power tool on Mistress.

I know, this would have been a good time to deploy the clothespins, but Mistress was using them to let all her tie-dye dresses dry.

ACT III
Location: I had to run a few errands, so released Mistress (should I have let her linger in the hot sun alone... nice concept but I'm not that "cruel"). She napped and read while I was gone. When I returned some late afternoon storm clouds were popping up. But before we adjourned back to our bed, there was one more Act to perform out on our patio.

Equipment: picnic table; beach towel, power tool; cuffs and rope.  more sunscreen.

Have a great independence day, all. And keep the fireworks indoors, unless you have a very private patio.... there's song for that too! (Indoor Fireworks)

From The Smokies.... West.

After a long travel day courtesy of our “back to the future” air travel system (you know, fewer flights, more crowded, worse connections, etc.), Mistress and I made it to our beloved mountain hideaway.

On route during the 3 hour drive from the nearest airport we passed within about 20 miles of the uncontrolled wildfires threatening the home of the atomic bomb, and a stockpile for everything from nuclear weapons to barrels of refuse contaminated with all sorts of deadly substances.

If you’ve never seen a forest fire at that range, it’s an awesome and, in ways, frightening sight. Smoke billowed from peaks and ravines and long ridge lines which must have spanned 20 or 30 miles. Considering the terrain, the heat and the wind, it will be a long time before that fire is under control. That is very tough duty for the 1200 or so souls out there in the wild, battling it.

For us, the inconvenience is a haze that has settled over the mountains here, muting the normally vibrant blue skies. Donna has warned us to acquire some masks if we plan to hike or bike ride.  And we will be on the lookout. But hopefully the winds will shift and keep the smoke minimal here, about 60 miles from the active blaze. If not, we may load up our bikes and head north to Colorado where the air is likely to be fresher.

It did make for an unusually red “lipstick” sunset last night, as the photo shows. That's the end of our drive, with the setting sun framed by a latilla fence and the chimisa bushes that clutter our "yard".

Once we arrived and packed away the groceries, the first thing Mistress did last evening was strip off the travel clothes, and we settled down out on our patio to read the local paper and enjoy the sort-of-fresh air and somewhat obscured views.

Mistress looked lovely, her breasts exposed , a lovely Indian necklace I’d  gotten her at Christmas hanging between them.

And since it had been a while for both of us in the sex category, it didn’t take long for us to head back inside, cuddle up nakers under the covers and …. Proceed.

Nothing fancy or flashy. Just good old, end of the day sex in the privacy of our special place. Mistress looked particularly fetching her legs spread, arms over her head as I proceeded to use lips and tongue to give her the worship she deserved.

“I hope it’s not too skunky down there, Slave…it’s been cooped up all day traveling. “

“No problem, Mistress… you’ve been airing all of yourself out this last hour or so….”

After she writhed to a nice preliminary come, she demanded the opportunity to feed on her cock. And who was I to stand in her way?

But soon I was begging for the privilege to fuck her. And she was mercifully indulgent.

Ahhh.

After a little snooze we woke to watch the sunset in its smoked over glory and strolled our “grounds”, which show the impact of this season’s drought.  (Mistress wore that black nightie for her tour).

Today I will be clipping away some of the branches and dry brush near the house to make sure things are safe, though we have plenty of space from the forest.

Today’s Sunday… switch day here at our UCTMW branch office. Molly already knows it’s going to be naked Sunday for her…. With the exception of our bike ride and dinner with some friends.

“That sounds good Slave…. I can work on those tan lines….”

But Slave plans to throw a few curve balls into those plans.

Have a great Sunday, all.