One Teen Off....

This morning we all head to the airport to dispatch our younger teen for a year in  Europe as part of a student exchange program.   She’s been matched with a family, and will be attending her final high school year over there.

While we’ve been having fun with the notion of the empty kinky nest, this day is suddenly upon us and well…. it’s kind of tough. This is the little cutie we taught to ski at age 4; who I coached on the soccer field through elementary school, who had Barney at her 4^th birthday. All that silly stuff seems just like yesterday this morning here at the UCTMW World HQ.

She seems more relaxed and ready to go than the rest of us. Obviously, it’s not the first time she’s been away. And we expect a little drama from her when the going gets tough adopting to a new “family” or a new school, or coping with some social or relationship crisis. And , yes, there will be Skype calls and text messaging galore.

But still…. A lot happens in 10 months. Things and people change. It will be hard to let her go.

But we will focus on the opportunities that our empty nest will present us. Mistress has already mentioned the need to keep our weekend schedule cleared for some “raucous sex”.

Not that we’ve been lagging behind.  Yesterday, after Mistress had her early breakfast meeting she had some down time before her next engagement. So she came to my office.

As she debriefed me on her meeting I did what comes second nature now: slid the chair up against the door, spread the maroon blanket, preparing Mistress’s throne.

She settled into her seat, and I was on my knees, helping her wriggle out of her black undies.

Soon my mouth was buried between her thighs, making sure I attended to those smooth, clean shaven folds until her hips were bucking against me, and she was stifling little moans of delight.

She was every bit as tasty as my early morning latte, and much more satisfying for both of us.

After that, I found her a conference room to do some work on her laptop before her next meeting, planned for lunch time.

Naturally I checked up on her from time to time, but I was not the only one.

Across the hall from this particular conference room is my colleague…. Let’s call him Bob.

Now Bob is a little geeky, maybe late 40’s. Married to a rather frumpy house frau who never seems all that charmed to meet Molly or Mick.  I suspect she feels a little insecure around Molly for several reasons.

But maybe it’s because she can detect that little frission of attraction that Bob clearly has for Molly.

And who can blame him.

I think Bob had trouble with Molly being in such close proximity to his office through the AM.

“It was pretty funny, Slave…. he kept walking in, every 20 minutes or so to chat me up….”

“What was he talking about, Mistress?”

“Oh, mostly technology… I-Pads, what type of lap top I should get next…he says he should just quit this job and go to work at the Apple Store.”

It all sounded very pretextual to me.

“Maybe we should give him the chance to worship, Mistress.  I’m sure that would please him.”

“DO you think that’s what it’s about?”

“No doubt….”

Poor Bob.

Clearly smitten.

I know the feeling.

g.

More Cage Time for Slave on Horizon

Mistress has been sucked into one of those macho River City ritual’s today…. The 7:30 am breakfast meeting. It was invented by guys of a certain generation who like to nurture the impression that their schedules are so invaluable that it can not be heard of that they would arrive at their offices to take charge of the helm any earlier than 8:30 am. So as a result, any time spent on civic activities or professional “catching up” must be commence no later than 7:30 or so.

(This also leaves time for afternoons on the golf course, or a lunch time work-out at some all male athletic club. This also assumes you have a “good wife” at home tending to the domestic chores of sending the little tikes off to school, and that one never would think about “wake up” sex with that wife that might slow you down on the way out the door).

This is a too long lead in to the fact that I’m up early and have a short window for blogging, because I’ll be driving mistress this morning to her breakfast engagement.

I was happy to do the driving, because it means a day off from cage time. Our rule has been that Slave is in his cage when we drive separately. And Mistress’s work arrangements have changed recently so that our regular drives to work may well be a thing of the past.

“You know Save, I’m going to miss our driving to work more than anything …. But this also means you are going to have to get used to wearing that cage again on a moe regular basis.

Yesterday seemed like a start to that. She had the benefit of my hard cock for wake up sex, already contained by that steel ring that forms the base of my cage, surrounding my cock and balls.

Then, after my shower, as she lolled in bed a little longer, sending off some emails, I presented myself with the cage in place and she shut the lock with a little faux sympathetic smile.

“Does that make you feel more secure, Mistress.”

“Definitely, Slave.”

As it turned out, Mistress had to be downtown for a lunch meeting, and I even saw her briefly on our square as I ate a sandwich and she was heading to meet her lunch partner.

“I’ll stop by your office when I’m done, Slave….”

Of course, I knew what that meant. And was happy to greet her when she arrived, closing the door and pushing the chair into place for a little “dessert”.

Yum. 

It had been a while since I’d had a chance for some lunch time worship.

Afterwards she shared an interesting development.

Our regular readers may recall that a few weeks ago I mentioned that Mistress had been solicited over Collar Me by an interesting gentleman of European background who took an interest in her posting for a “part time Dom”.

They had chatted a bit, but then he left the country for a few weeks for some exotic vacation.

He’s back.

He and Mistress have been exchanging some provocative text messages over those weeks.

And they both realized in some exchanges yesterday morning that they’d be downtown.

We’ve not picked a blog name for him yet, so let’s just call him A for now.

“So Slave…. A’s down here today …. At his business. And he suggested maybe I walk down and say hello.”

I raised an eyebrow. 

“Sounds intriguing, Mistress….”

She told me the address, asking for some directions. And, dutiful slave that I am, I offered to walk her down the street for her little meet.

As we strolled in the mid afternoon sun, hand in hand, she gave me that look.

“Are you OK with this Slave?”

“Of course, Mistress…..”

She is very considerate about all this for her Slave….

Soon we were at her destination, just two short blocks from my office.

“Well Slave…. here we are…. Maybe you should go back now. It might be a little awkward if you showed up too.”

“No problem Mistress….”

Well I hear Mistress up now, and I’d better hop in the shower with her. I guess we will have to continue this little adventure later.

Sunday on the Road

Considering the reason for our road trip – the funeral of a beloved family matron – Mistress and Slave made sure we took advantage of our sumptuous suite a few blocks away from the crowded Fairfield Inn where our sullen teens had been parked for the evening.

Sleeping apart for several nights, both of us had some catching up to do in the sleep department on Saturday night. But when we woke Sunday we had a couple of hours before dressing for the graveside ceremony.

That gave Slave sometime to take some photos of our suite to share with you. 

There were some rather explicit lamps on the side tables next to the bed.

Then here is a more expansive view of our bed, as  Mistress polished a blog she had written for her vanilla site.

It gives you a good view of the four poster bed. 

Sunday morning I was still regretting not having packed some suitable restraints. But out of respect for the occasion (as well as a lack of suitable implements), Mistress and Slave passed on our more traditional Sunday morning activities.

Of course, that did not prevent us from taking advantage of the large, cozy bed in more traditional ways. And afterwards, both of us spent, I made sure to take a picture of Mistress, if only to make reparations for those of you who were grossed out by that shot of Michelle Bachmannn practicing her skills on that corn dog yesterday.

After Mistress and her slave had fully exploited that bed, Mistress decided to take a bath in the lovely claw foot tub.

 Mistress looks fetching with nothing but bubbles.

Teddy Roosevelt Slept Here

Mistress and the sullen teen got home just long enough on Saturday, late morning, to shower, repack, and then climb in the car with me for a 4 hour drive to the south for a family funeral.

Sadly, our schedule did not allow even for a “quickie” before my over traveled Mistress was back on the road again, and the presence of our daughter in the back seat even restricted our ability to improvise with a little smutty talk and groping on our drive.

This is a big family gathering for Mistress. A Matron of the family had passed, and cousins, aunts and others from far and ride were all arriving. In this smallish town to pay tribute.

Once we arrived, Slave was concerned that there might not be a chance to relieve the pent up sexual demand from those long, hard days of denial any time soon.

(I know, I am a spoiled and pampered house Slave, Tammy…. But still…I have been conditioned for indulgence, not denial).

But Mistress and Slave are also clever and conniving . a block of rooms had been booked at a rather shopworn Fairfield Inn, and that’s where the sullen teens and their grandmother and others would be lodged.

But under the ruse that we did not want to take up the limited supply of rooms reserved for family, Mistress found something a bit more sumptuous, and private for our little reunion : an old Victorian Inn, not far from the river bank.

And, what a shame!  we got the last room available.  

"Sorry girls, the place was full, so you will have to stay where grandma and the others are staying...."

The teens were cleverly dropped off to check in and clean up for the big family meal. Now the clock was ticking. We had about 90 minutes.

We found the lovely old painted lady, the paint a bit faded, but the interiors very charming. And the Old Bull Mooser actually did stay here once.

I hope the Inn keeper was not too offended when we politely turned down his invitation for a tour of his mansion.

“Actually, we can look around later…. Just show us to our room, please.”

And what a room. Bay windows. Period furnishings. And a lovely huge four poster bed.

Once the bed was closed, Mistress was in my arms.

“Damn. Wish I had remembered some ropes for switch day, Mistress.”

“Do you really think it would be polite to do switch day, and then go to a funeral, Slave?”

“What did the old rough rider say, Mistress, ‘speak softly, but carry a big stick?’ At least I should have brought our  riding crop.”

We quickly unpacked our things, stripped off those traveling  duds and pulled back the sheets.

It had been since Tuesday morning after all.

Mistress’s delicious clean shaven parts were ready for my full attention.

And when she seemed pleased with my efforts, she lavished her cock with plenty of attention as well.  (BTW, Mistress’s technique is much more polished than what a certain Presidential candidate demonstrated at the Iowa state fair over the weekend.)

“May I fuck you now, Mistress.”

“You seem a little impatient, Slave….”

“Well…. I mean…. It’s been a few days, Mistress…. “

She was driving me crazy with her lips and those well manicured fingers.  And she knew it.

But she finally relented when it seemed my level of frustration had turned to code red.

“Why don’t I ride my cock now, Slave….”

It was an excellent idea.