Saying So Long to Our Beautiful Valley

It’s our last morning here. Soon we’ll be packing up and heading back to River City.

In consideration for Suzanne’s long battle these last two weeks with celibacy, and to give me enough time for some morning kanoolding with Mistress, I will pass over the sexcapades here in our Mountain hideaway on Saturday. Suffice it to say that Mistress made sure to use her strap-on one more time before we head back to our surly teens and other forms of reality.

We did make sure to have a nice day yesterday in other categories of activity too…. A nice long bike ride down and then up out of a valley near here that always gets my cardio-system thrumming. Here is Mistress on the downward trail, and then at an overlook after coming out of what we call “the hole”.

Isn’t that vivid riding shirt muy caliente?

Then another walk down into the gorge for some sunbathing, soaking and reading. Here is an shot down into the hot springs area, which you can see was quite popular yesterday afternoon.

Aftewards, it was home for a little nap and that aforementioned ass fucking that Mistress applied to her Slave, with much delight shared by both participants.

I made us some dinner – gnocchi with some locally made basil based pesto and organic asparagus. Delicious if I do say so myself. And it reminded us both how much we enjoy just eating here at our little cottage – the two of us – watching the sky as some more monsoon showers passed across that vast open expanse to our south.

Finally, it was off to a local concert venue for a show by the Iguanas, a New Orleans band I had heard at a club on Frenchmen St. years ago, BK.

The band is an eclectic mix of grateful dead jam style band, latin and Cajun all melted together, that had the local crowd up and dancing from the first song. Of course, some dancers are flashier than others, and Mistress and I enjoyed watching a particularly expressive couple out in the floor, twirling and bending into one another.

Mistress has never been the showy sort that puts all that sensuality out on the dance floor like this lady, and she asked it that was a problem for me.

“Of course not Mistress…. I like it that you save it for the bedroom.”

We speculated whether someone who gets all hot and expressive on the dance floor cools off when the doors are closed and the lights go down.
I guess it would be hard to construct a scientific study to that end, wouldn’t it?

But by the time the band hit their stride, about an hour into their set, I did get Mistress out on the floor, swaying against me to a slow and sensual latin beat, and later, as the tempo picked up, on this, the band’s final number.

It was a great evening, just the two of us, and a cast of dancing locals, without the social posse that can get a little tedious, even out here.

It’s memories like these of our beautiful valley that keep us coming back, just like in this song (Beautiful Valley)  by a local singer / songwriter. (Check it out, because it comes with a lovely musical postcard of our little piece of heaven here).

Donna will have something for you all tomorrow, as Molly and Mick struggle to get back into commuter and work mode.

Dinner and a Dance

Slave woke a little later than normal here. Finally adjusting to the time shift, I suppose, just as we get ready to head back to River City tomorrow.

Bummer.

So I may skip over the sex part, which involved some robust full frontal cowgirl yesterday morning, if only to spare Suzanne, who has been without Jay’s trophy cock and the skilled tongue of her Tammy all these tortured days.

Last evening we had dinner at a lovely local restaurant with two friends we met here several years ago. Like us, they are visitors, not true locals, but they “get” the ambiance here in the same way we do.

They both have worked in higher education in Oklahoma. John just retired and Jane, a little younger, is hanging in there for a few more years. Doing the math, both are about 5 years older than Molly and Mick, respectively.

As it turned out, John and I came dressed a little too closely matched,  both of us in jeans, boots, plaid western shirts and white cowboy hats. (Yes, Mick does wear an occasional cowboy hat out here).

This led to some teasing from our “girls”. Molly suggested we looked like matching Fisher-Price toys. Later, a musician we all know asked if we were “twins”.

Cute. But I suppose we deserved it. Two aging and overeducated dudes, dressed up like cowboys. All hat and no cattle, I suppose. But there is nothing wrong with a rich fantasy life, is there?

So there we were, sharing dinner on the patio of this amazing Spanish Nouveau restaurant, a spectacular view of the local Pueblo’s sacred mountain stretched out before us to the north , bathed in the pink alpenglow of the setting sun.

Maybe the view distracted me, but at some point Mistress looked at me with a bemused look.

“Ummm, Mick…. Did you hear what Jane just said?”

I gave her my best quizzical “huh?” look….

Fortunately, Jane didn’t mind repeating herself to this rude dinner companion.

“Remember. Mick,  I was talking about getting a facial peel….”

“Uhhh, oh yeah….” (I sort of remembered, maybe this explains why I zoned out…. I mean…. Facials?)

“Well I said that I had trouble getting the peel goop all off, and when we were leaving I looked in the mirror and it seemed like I had cum in my hair,  again.”

Ahhhhh.  So that’s what I missed.

From there the dinner conversation went downhill.

Apparently Jane considers herself quite a blow job expert. And that particular phrase was bouncing around the table so often I was starting to monitor folks at the tables surrounding us to see if they were offended by our rather frank chat.

The best story was about Jane on her knees in the driveway of their home after an evening out. Suddenly her cell phone rang.  It was her daughter, from inside the house, saying “Mom, I can see what you two are doing out there….”

John was happy to confirm that Jane’s particular skill was a key element of his decision to pop the question a few years back. (This is the second marriage for both of them).

Somehow the conversations shifted from BJ’s to what Jane described as her “laminated card”: A set list of celebrities that she had a free pass in advance to do it with if the opportunity arose.

Both Molly and Jane agreed that David Duchovney was on both of their lists. Then they rolled through a variety of other candidates.

But I made sure to point out that Mistress has a free pass with anyone she chooses.

Just Following Orders

Our schedule  was a little tight here Thursday morning.

Mistress had a “date” scheduled with our WC, and Slave had to make sure he woke her up around 7 am, to assure that I got my own early morning “taste”. With our own "wake up" sex completed, both of us were juggling some work on our lap tops, when Molly got a little 10 minute warning text from the WC with some unique instructions.

“He says to get your Slave to set the Hitachi up for you out on the patio….I’m supposed to be naked out there for him at 8, Slave.….”

“Will do, Mistress.”

Of course, Mistress has been in various states of undress out there for the last few days. And but for some livestock and prairie dogs, there is not much chance that she can be observed from the road or our neighbors’ distant yards.

Not much chance , but maybe a little. Just enough to get Mistress a little on edge about these “orders” from a few hundred miles to our north.

I got out her “power tool” and plugged in the outdoors’ extension cord, all ready for her.

Then there was another order.

“Now He says he wants me out there on all fours, and he wants you to take a doubled belt and give me 30 strokes with it, Slave….”

Oh, my.

“The WC get up on the wrong side of the bed?”

Mistress just gave a slight nervous giggle, all naked, brushing her teeth in our bedroom.

“He sure is bossy for so early in the morning….”

But she did not seem inclined to argue.

I grabbed a belt, a wide Western style belt with some nice carved designs on it. I wondered if I could make little floral imprints on Mistress’s lovely ass.

And I can report to you WC that Mistress was very co-operative. She knelt oh so willingly on the chaise, ass in the air, and only whined a bit as she counted out the strokes for me. I went easy at first, but since she did not seem to uncomfortable, I increased the strength of my strokes as we approached 30, making her squirm a bit and mutter about how much it hurt.

While I suspect you could have done a better job of it, without fear of any reprisal later on, I must say she took her “punishment” like a trooper.

When I was done, her bottom had a nice rosy glow, which I captured with my camera for all of you:

“Now, could you get the phone for me please Slave….”

I did, and left Mistress to her conversation with the WC. Although at some point she did scramble inside, muttering about the cordless phone’s battery dying and retrieving an alternative handset. It seemed she was a tad frustrated at the time.”

About 30 minutes later she came back inside, announcing she was done. I had been loading our bikes on the car for an excursion at a nearby national park.

On the trail I asked about her little rendezvous.

“So how many, Mistress….?”

“Oh, I’d say three Slave.”

“And did he get off too?”

“He did, Slave….”

Good to know the WC is not getting sexually constipated back at the office.

“And what nasty things did WC have you thinking about as he put you through your paces?”

“Oh… he was coming down to collect me and drag me off to some nudist place in Colorado… where there was various public displays by and of me….I think at some point you had to watch too….”

“Sounds like fun, Mistress….”

“It was, Slave….”

Later in the day, Suzanne, over at All Mine had her own post, pining for her two male companions. She’s still on an overseas work trip. She commented that here at UCTMW we seem to be overindulging. And I suppose she is right. Maybe catching up for lost time over the last few weeks at work and dealing with sullen teens off from school.

Suzanne, we know you will catch up once you, Jay, Tammy and Carol get up to your lake house next week. And now that Carol has cultivated a taste for exploiting her privileges with Tammy, we are all wondering how that will sort itself out once the Mistress of the house is back at the controls.

Rest assured, dear readers, that after the bike ride and some errands, Slave got another chance to please Mistress here in our bed, before some dinner guests arrived.

We wouldn’t want to fail to meet Suzanne’s high expectations.

Day at the Beach

Yesterday, Mick and Molly spent a good bit of the day down at our local “beach”.

After our morning sexual engagements, and a long and demanding bike ride, we packed up some beverages, books and beach towels and climbed into our rental jeep.

You find our local beach by driving down a long dirt road, then hiking about 2/3’s of a mile into the deep gorge of the Rio Grande River as it winds it’s way from Colorado to the Gulf of Mexico.

The rocky, winding path is an old road, long since abandoned, created by some 19^th Century entrepreneur who constructed a “toll bridge” here at the bottom of the gorge to accommodate horse men and stage coaches traveling for business and maybe a little pleasure toward Arizona or the rail route that connected Colorado with Albuquerque.

And he picked this particular transit point because of some ancient hot springs on the banks of the river here. The springs were discovered and exploited by ancient Indian tribes long  before the Spanish Conquistadors came to these parts in search of gold, slave labor  and potential Catholics.

More recently, you may have seen the springs in Easy Rider, the late 1960’s movie, with Dennis Hopper and Peter Fonda cavorting in the nude with some local hippie chicks.  No way they got their choppers down that trail though.

In the past, it’s been a scene of some naked sunbathing and a little sexual activity in the warm natural pools for Molly and Mick. But this time we were a bit stifled by some other touristas, and a few local aging hippie types, plastered with tatoos, and accompanied by a pack of friendly but loud dogs.

We did enjoy some quiet time away from cell phones and computers to read our books and soak up the high desert sun.

Later, after dealing with the email traffic that had accumulated back at the ranch, we finally got some quiet time before heading out to our evening engagement with a group of local friends.

After her shower, Mistress did get a chance to chat with our WC, who is back at work, not far to the north.  She was out on the patio, letting her hair dry in the sun, when she asked me to retrieve the phone to accommodate their call.

You will be happy to know that I offered to worship as she talked, but she suggested it would be “not that kind of talk”.

On the other hand, She did let me worship her once she had signed off with M and came inside. It gave us both a little time to relax before our rendezvous with friends for dinner and some music at a local restaurant.

Our friends out here are a mixed blessing. It’s great to spend time with them in small doses. But  two of the couples have a need to do social “gang bangs”, where either we have to have 8 or more people together, or someone has to feel dissed and left out.

Very high school.

Mistress and I, on the other hand, are happy to be by ourselves, or spend an evening with one other couple at a time.