Day One in the Empty Nest

We woke with the door open, the cats who fawned over our teens (and were fawned over in turn) were wandering in and out, disoriented that their sponsors had flown the coop.

After I did my blogging, I came upstairs to find Mistress, awake, doing some of her own emailing.  She reminded me that sometime in the middle of the night, our teen had texted that she had safely arrived in Europe.

And although I had work to attend to, we made sure to spend a little extra time in bed together.

Mistress was happy to find that hard steel ring in place, tightly encapsulating my cock and balls, which always produces a particular rigid and persistent accessory when it comes to her morning fuck.

We showered together, and after I dried off, I presented myself to her to close the lock on my cage.

“Good, Slave…. I almost feel sorry that you’ll be wearing it more frequently for the foreseeable future.”

No doubt.

So I was off, and Mistress had her own plans for the day.

I left you all hanging earlier this week about Mistress and her potential “part time Dom”. They did have a brief meet and greet on Monday. A mutual eyeballing and checking for chemistry I suppose, to go with the texting they had engaged in while he was off to Europe for a good part of the summer.

Apparently that first test was mutually passed.

He’s a reader of the blog. No, we’ve seen no comments yet. But he’s picked up on some of the hijinks here, and does not mind becoming a character in our little community.

He’s agreed that we can call him Francois,  a native of France, who has spent the last decade or so here in River City.  We can fill in more blanks later.

Mistress had made plans to lunch with him yesterday. Some additional getting to know you time. And what she might ( or might not) be up to gave me a little extra zap as she shut the lock on Mick’s cage yesterday morning.

Of course, as she’s mentioned, her notions of privacy and decorum are a little more restrained than mine might be. What we share here about developments between her and Francois will be dribbled out at her discretion.

But I can share a funny store that she repeated to me later in the day, when we both found ourselves naked, in our bed on a Friday evening, my cage finally unlocked for the weekend.

“We did what folks always do in River City, Slave…. talk about who we might know in common.  And it turns out we both know R ….” ( a guy who owned a restaurant years ago that Mistress often used for business functions).

“Funny… it’s been years since we’ve seen him.”

“So he pulled out his cell phone and dialed up R and we talked for a while….I hadn’t heard from him in years…. He says we should all get together….”

‘And how did he explain to R that he knew you, Mistress?”

“Just that we were working on some business things together”

Plausible, I suppose.

“And here’s the funny part…. He says that R is sort of into the scene too… described something about him in the basement of his restaurant with two young things, in collars … on leashes.”

Hmmmm.  Who-da-thunk.  And I thought that was just where he stored the wine and kept the fish on ice.

Strange Days have found us.

Mistress was definitely in a feisty mood after her lunch, and it turned out that my cock was the beneficiary. So after she was suitably worshipped, she took to riding it, hard and long, before collapsing on me in a heap, all O’ed out.

Poor Mistress. 

A busy day for the new empty nester.

But our day wasn’t quite done yet.

It’s remarkably liberating to NOT have to worry about what and when and how to feed one’s teens on a Friday evening. Ours had been spending way too much time at home over the summer, consuming our schedule.

So when we were in the mood to put our clothes back on, we dressed casually, and headed to a quaint local town up the road. The wine shop had their Friday tasting going on, and a group of similarly liberated grown ups were tasting the selection available and grazing on cheese and other munchies. We were happy to join them.

We chatted on about our days, and Mistress, as she is want to do, reached out to make sure that I was OK with her little developing adventure with Francois.

“I don’t want you to feel left out, Slave….”

Maybe I was a little relaxed, oblivious to my surroundings, but apparently my voice was not suitably quiet when I reassured her.

“Mistress, how many 60 year old guys get to have sex twice a day, or more if I want it….”

That’s when she blushed and glanced at the semi-chubby 50ish guy in the madras shorts browsing the wine shelf next to us, who quickly stepped away from the couple sharing TMI.

Sorry pal. Didn’t mean to embarrass you.  If you feel discriminated against take it up with your wife. And try ditching the madras shorts.  They are definitely a mood killer.

Another Girl Off....

We got ‘er done.

Teen two was dropped off at her dorm yesterday. Amazingly, all the stuff she felt compelled to bring actually fit in the room, and there was even room left for her roommate’s stuff too.

There were no tears of loss shed this time. She’s really only about an hour away, so surely there will be opportunities to drop by unexpectedly, or for her to show up with a posse of co-eds and several bushels of dirty laundry at some unexpected and inconvenient time.

(Note to Slave: change locks and entry code on garage door opener).

We even got home from this “final mission of parenthood” (who am I kidding?) by around 4:30 pm. Time for a bike ride, a stop at the local pool so Mistress could swim some laps, and then home to the newly emptied “nest”.

We fixed a picnic style dinner, and took our grub and two bottles of wine out onto the deck and wallowed in our liberation, reflecting on the years that had passed with frightening speed.

“Have we really ever spent any extended solo time together like this, Slave?”

“Well there have been some summer camp interregnums.   And weekends when they or we were gone, but… I guess not since we moved in together back in 1991….”

“But I was pregnant then, Slave….”

“True…. We had those 4 or 5 months before teen one was born….”

“We had pretty great sex when you were pregnant, Mistress….”

That was a long time ago…. Before the name Monica Lowinski became synonymous with peek-a-boo thongs,   cigars and stained dresses.

Soon we found our way back inside.

Mistress noted our new found freedom as she shed her cloths and explored the recently abandoned teen caves down the hall. Not nearly as trashed as we had feared.

“Now we can just walk around naked if we want, Slave….”

True.  And Slave does not have to worry about a teen getting a glimpse of my cock cage.

It was time to exploit our new privileges.

“Put in your device Slave (my aneros)…. I want the super hard cock tonight.”

“I don’t think that will be a problem, Mistress.”

So I followed instructions as Mistress watched from the bed. a glass of wine in her hand and a come hither smirk on her face.

Just then her text chime went off.  She peered at the little screen.

“It’s the WC Slave…. he wants to know what we’re doing. “

She tapped away.

“I’m telling him I’m about to fuck my Slave….”

A little chime went off again as I was heading for the bed.

“He says it’s his Anniversary tomorrow, Slave…. wants ideas on what to get B.”

“Maybe he should give her a contract like we have Mistress…. With the free pass in it….”

“Hmmmm…. Not so sure he’d go for that….”

I was in bed next to Mistress now, applying my lips and tongue to their higher and better use.  Mistress had tucked the I-phone away, shifting it to “silent”.

And once that first orgasm was in the books, she was toying with her cock, driving me crazy in the way she does so well. Soon I was begging for the privilege to fuck her.

“Patience, Slave….. I think I need to ride it for a while first.”

And of course, she did.  We may need to get her a cowboy hat, she does it so well, riding it to several moaning cums before she rolled over and let me finish the job from above.

Before we went to sleep, she reminded me of my obligation in the morning.

“When you come upstairs to me tomorrow, I want the ring for your cock cage already in place Slave…. it always makes for a nice morning treat. Then it’s back in the cage for you.”

“Of course, Mistress.”

HNT / And Some Thoughts from our Senior Correspondent

Thanks for your supportive comments yesterday. We did get our youngest daughter off on her adventure yesterday. We were all pretty chipper on the ride to the airport, only to lose it in a swamp of tears as we shared hugs with her for the last time for the next 10  months of so. But we know it will leave all of us changed, hopefully for the best, once this adventure is over. And there’s always Skype! (Last night she was “too busy” making new friends at a pre-Europe orientation to talk with us. A good sign as far as we were concerned).

This morning we pack up the car for our older daughter’s trip to College. And it’s wonderful that Donna, our Senior Correspondent stepped into the breach with some thoughts on the charms of the BDSM lifestyle. And as a bonus, I’ve thrown in an HNT outtake (above) from our little detour to that Bed and Breakfast over the weekend.

So there I was, just scrolling through some research, when I came across a 2009 study: Hormonal Changes and Couple Bonding in Consensual Sadomasochistic Activity, from The Archives of Sexual Behavior. 

Who could resist? 

So I opened it up and there I found this:

“...hormonal changes associated with Sadomasochistic activities including spanking, bondage and flogging, suggest that it could bring consenting couples closer together. The increases in relationship closeness combined with the displays of caring and affection observed as part of the SM activities offer support for the modern view that SM, when performed consensually, has the potential to increase intimacy between participants.”

So, while I think the hormone changes, spanking, bondage and flogging are fairly clear, what displays of caring and affection observed as part of the SM activities would be noteworthy?

The first that comes to mind for me is that of the Dom/Domme regularly checking in with the sub, not just verbally, but visually. Usually when gagged, there is a hand signal rather than a safe word, but I really haven’t heard of safe words being used terribly often. An attentive Dom usually picks up the visual clues long before the sub is ready to safe word. The muscles, the breathing patterns, changing of the coloring of the skin, the heat of the body, these are just a few of the non-verbal things a Dom checks to keep careful watch on the sub. That level of knowing a partner's body so well and paying such close attention has to have carry-over to everyday life, even if scaled back a bit.

From my own experiences, as well as talking with friends, I also think it is common for BDSM couples to make a special point of regularly adding new things to the mix, dildos, plugs, whips, canes, leathers, new techniques, clubs, dungeons and more. That says the partners are thinking about the relationship, planning ahead and looking forward to their time together, and probably showing up with some surprises for one another from time to time, not just on Valentine’s Day. Who doesn't appreciate knowing that someone is thinking of playing with them often and is willing to put the time, energy and money into spicing things up?

There is also the aftercare. How many jokes are there about vanilla sex and the men who want to just roll over and go to sleep after sex while the females want to talk? With BDSM, I haven’t found that to be the case. Aftercare is a very special time between participants to check out their physical and psychological situation following activities. It might be spent cuddling, rocking, discussing the scene, or sharing water or a quick energy snack. It is a time of settling, offering words of gratitude. I have friends who have a ritual of a rubdown, checking for any abraded areas or places that might need some TLC, and I have heard of people who brush their partner’s hair. It’s probably different for every couple or ménage, and it is very important, not only as a check-up and check-in, but as something that bonds us together.

And finally, something else that comes to mind when I think of this is that our friends who have been into BDSM for a period of time seem to generally have a little extra spark when they talk about one another. I suspect it might have something to do with having a shared secret, a secret stash of toys and BDSM paraphernalia. Or maybe it’s a secret language, like that special wink that means.”Send your parents home soon and I’ll go put on my leather bustier and be waiting in the bedroom with the flogger!”

Although I imagine that extra spark is really due to a combination of all of the above.

Every group of people, including the group of people involved in BDSM, has its fanatics, those out on a limb people, but I think this study is basically on target. I do think that BDSM, when performed consensually, has the potential to increase intimacy between participants. Of course I didn’t need a study to tell me that, but it is so nice when a study supports what we have already decided. Don't you agree?

Hugs,
Donna

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.