Switch Day Meets Empty Nest

Before I get into our after action report from a very eventful switch day, I wanted to call attention to and respond to a long comment made by Suffolk.sinner yesterday afternoon.

He seems troubled by our cuckold dynamics here, and can’t understand why if its not ok for this “gander” to play the field, why Mistress should be entitled to her own “indiscretions”.

Suffice it to say that Slave got in trouble when he concealed his extra-marital activities several years back. The deceit opened up a deep wound in our marriage. And as we struggled to work our way back to a trusting relationship, we stumbled into the world of D/s.

I discovered that the idea of turning my sexual freedom to Mistress was not only a way to make her feel more secure, but also a BIG and surprising turn on for me. 

The contract developed from there, as a fun way to formalize things between us.  It’s a little over the top, but I don’t fear that Mistress will take advantage of her rights TOO often.

As for the cuckold thing? I addressed that in an earlier posting that may be worth reviewing if you are curious about our theories on that particular kink. Under Contract to My Wi#1854AD1.

On our bike ride yesterday, Mistress asked me whether I missed the “freedom” she had under our contract. 

“Actually, I haven’t had any problems with it Mistress. No one’s come knocking on my door, making herself available. I don’t think I’m sending off those “available” signals any more…. But I’ll let you know….”

“Would you really, Slave?”

“Sure…. Who needs all that sneaking around stuff.”

Well, enough of all this philosophizing, let’s get back to the sexy stuff….

So here we are, kids flown the coop, and a full set of switch day options available.

It was almost too hard to choose.

After Mistress read the blog, as I worked her into a steamy arousal with my tongue, I made it clear that she would have to work for her orgasms.

“Stopping now, Slave?… you were just getting to the good part….”

I reached into our bedside table, retrieving her red cuffs, locking them on her then linking her hands behind her back.  They match her red nail polish so nicely, don’t you think?

I also attached some black leather cuffs to her ankles.

“What’s nice about these cuffs is that you can wear them around the house through the day, Mistress.”

“Oh…. Really….”

“Maybe even on our bike ride.  I doubt anyone would notice.”

“Oh… Slave…you wouldn’t…. would you?”

I left the question unanswered, helped Mistress to her feet, and guided her down the hall to the now vacant room of a sullen teen.

You may be amused to learn that her room, and bed, are bigger than her parents. She has a queen. We have a double.

But the nicest part about this now unspoken for bed is that it is of the 4 poster type, with very convenient lashing points.

“This would drive her crazy, Slave.”

“True, she usually bars us from her ‘space’ …. But now she’s far away across the pond…. Tough nuggies.”

Soon Mistress found her self spread eagled, face down on the bed.

I let her languish a bit as I went back to our room for a few more tools. A riding crop. My  camera, and the Hitachi too.

Mistress “enjoyed” quite a few strokes from the crop, interrupted by my stroking and probing fingers.

“Your ass is looking quite red, Mistress…. I hope Francois does not mind.”

“Hmmm…. He’s not had any objections to switch day, at least not yet.”

It was about then that I plugged in the Hitachi, sliding it ever so closely to the promised land between Mistress’s spread thighs.

“Ummmm…. Nice … Slave….. but could you move it a little…. Closer….under….”

She was wriggling as best she could, but I was not going to make it easier for her. Instead, I reached for the crop again, trying to match the blows with the rise and fall of her ass as she tried to match her “sweet spot” with the business end of her favorite power tool.

“This is so mean, Slave…. it’s driving be crazy….”

I tried to “help”, wedging it a little more closely to her clean shaven folds, then stepped back, taking a seat on a chair across the room to admire Mistress’s gyrations at my leisure.

She looked over at me, noticing the rigid cock in my hand, as her hips bounced up and down, trying to get the pulsations that eluded her.

“Slave…. what are you doing?”

“Ohh, just enjoying the show, Mistress…. You look so hot over there, all tied up and frustrated, that I could probably just come like this…..”

“You wouldn’t dare…. Would you?”

I don’t think she was sure.  But it didn’t slow her frustrated gyrations, as her hips pounded up and down on the bed, her arms and legs straining against their bindings.

At moments like these, it would be nice if I knew how to operate the video function on that camera. But here is a still photo from my vantage point. (Sorry for the stuffed animal in the background).

“It would seem like a waste, come to think of it, Mistress.”

But Slave is merciful, of only because the tables can so easily be turned here at the UCTMW World HQ.

Soon I was back at her side, taking the Hitachi in hand, and guiding it manually where I knew it would have it’s highest and best use.

And soon thereafter Mistress was quaking and shaking through a primo cum.

When the aftershocks finally subsided, I flipped off the switch, but also noted the error of her ways.

‘You forgot to ask permission, Mistress…. There will be consequences.”

“Just fuck me, Slave….”

So I did, sliding in from behind, pumping into her slowly at first, then with more gusto, bringing her to another cum as she moaned her release into the pillows under her head.

But we were not done just yet.

I released her for a moment, only to flip her over, and re-restrain her, face up this time.

And then I reapplied the Hitachi treatment.

At least she remembered to ask permission the second time around.

Mistress Addresses Some New Developments

On day two of our Empty Nest days, Mistress and her devoted Slave rested. 

After some leisurely wake up sex, there was a civic engagement in the morning. We saw lots of family, friends and a handful of local politicians. So of them are already thinking of ways they can “book us” for their amusement or support now that we’ve driven our children off. 

We were very non-commital.

Slave mowed the lawn, and did some other “outdoor slave” jobs. We went for a bike ride. Mistress did some laps at the local pool, while Slave read the Times.

Then we were back home. A nice afternoon nap, followed by… well, what did you expect.

“It’s almost like we’re on vacation, Mistress. But we are just at home.”

“True, Slave.”

We were even too lazy to go out to the movies, instead finding an obscure Woody Allen movie, Alice,  from about 1990 that somehow we had missed. It was during those “Molly and Mick secretly dating years”. And neither of our spouses were as deeply into Woody as we were / are. So there was the young, charmingly coy Mia Farrow. William Hurt. Bernadette Peters.  We sipped our wine, shared a little picnic, and relished in our new found independence.

And with Mistress’s legs splayed wide on the couch next to me, tie-dye dress hiked to her hips, skimpy semi-transparent black panties barely cloking her clean shaven folds and their intoxicating aroma, Slave could not help fingering her to another mid-evening cum as we watched the goofy but romantic plot line unfold.

Yesterday we did get an interesting question from a commenter from across the pond (I guess I am assuming that the Suffolk he’s referring to is in England, not Suffolk Co., NY ).

The question was whether Mistress’s extracurricular activities are limited to “phone sex”. 

In fact, our contract allows her free sexual range. It seemed only fair at the time it was drafted, since Slave had committed his own indiscretion. And then, even as we were writing it up, the notion of Mistress exercising her contractual rights in that way was discovered to be a turn on for both of us. 

 (There is a link to our contract to the right of this post).

That little fizz of arousal came before Slave even understood that there was a whole cult of cuckold out there, as exemplified by the goings on over at ALL Mine, and elsewhere.

Mistress suggested I write a little about why this notion seems to get her Slave going. And it’s elusive to articulate.

If submission is a turn on for me and others, I suppose it makes sense that surrendering the monopoly over one’s spouse is the ultimate act of submission. And therefore the ultimate submissive sexual accelerant.

Setting aside the submission kink, I do like to see Mistress happy and fulfilled. And horny. It seems to give her a little extra sexual glow when  another man has the hots for her.  Who can blame her?  That glow always seems to inure to my benefit, since she seems all the more eager to exploit her readily available “work-a-day” cock.

As it has turned out, Mistress has only previously exercised her rights with one other person. After a few encounters, she decided that he did not have what it took to make for a long term part of her world. But she's been open to possibilities, and has also had some tantalizing long distance encounters with our WC.

After we discussed the question that had been posed, and Mistress asked me to address it, she also decided to write a few paragraphs herself on recent developments here at UCTMW:

Molly’s POV

To take a page from our buddies at All Mine,  I determined that it’s time for me to have a few words. I know that we have created quite a mystery over here. Permit me to fill in a few blanks.

Yes, our two darling daughters are now gone and while we miss them, the quiet is needed. I have raised children for 19 year’s, Mick for a collective 34 (you heard right). I have always worshiped the ground he walks on, but I know how tired I am from the small amount of 19 years.

Our home is peaceful and we can be naked all day. This will help with our environmental efforts to save water, as we will have fewer clothes to clean. My mom does live one mile away, but always phones prior to arrival and she is busier than we are so not worried about the drop in.

Yes, WC is still part of the empire and we are very much friends. The relationship with WC continues, but in a nonsexual way. Why? Candidly, it’s been the collective decision of all involved. Be decent to the WC, he is important to us friends.

Onto Francois.

Gang, I am not going to predict anything here. He and I have connected and seem to find one another interesting.  Mick and I have had some false starts in the part-time Dom search, so none of us can anticipate where this is headed. Just know though that we are all open to whatever happens.  I am lucky to have a slave who wants me to be so happy.

Our goal at Under Contract (contrary to the corporate type rag we pretend to me) is to take life day by day and to be happy. I, for one, have tired of angst and worry. “The times they are a changing.”

Love

Molly

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.”