Our Dinner With Francois

It was an  eventful first day back in town for Molly and Mick, getting back on the work wagon and all. And we need to get up and out early this AM, so excuse me if I am a little brief and unfocused on laying out this account. Feel free to ask questions, and I will fill in some more details later.

Slave was back at work in his office, Mistress working from home yesterday, and things were a little open ended as to whether Francois’s own work schedule might allow the two a little time together.

As it turned out, Mistress and he met for some coffee at a Starbucks not far from where he was doing some work. I got the heads up, and a little report on her drive home.

“So how did it go, Mistress?”

“Fine Slave…. we just chatted a while . I think he was a little disappointed that I wore underwear under my skirt though?”

“Oh, really?”

“Yeah, as we were leaving he reached up under there and I had to tell him he wouldn’t be pleased…. It was a work day after all.”

“True.”

“And what did you talk about?”

“We did cover that upcoming weekend…. And involving his new friend Babette in the proceedings… at some point I sort of shushed him, since it was all this sex talk and I was afraid the Barrista was listening in….”

“And he said?”

“He must be a regular there… he looked at the guy and said ‘didn’t I tell you I was meeting my mistress and we were going to talk about getting a cute little submissive involved in some of our action’?”

“Oh shit…. Hilarious….”

Let’s move on now to further action, after work, back here at the UCTMW World HQ.

What’s nice about this empty nest is that there is no pressure at the end of the day for a quick meal prep to soothe the savage sullen teens. So Slave is free to come home, take off those work clothes, and offer his services to Mistress.

We were in our post-coital bliss, me contemplating what to serve with the fish, when Mistress got a text….

“Francois has some time, and wants to know if it’s OK to stop by with a couple of bottle of wine for us to sample….”

Gulp.  So the time had come for Slave to meet Mistress’s new beau.  But I was undainted, and, of course, very curious.

“Sure, Mistress….. ask him if he wants to stay for dinner….”

(Slave may be impertinent, but all that worship and sex had gotten my appetite aroused.  Couldn’t cuckolding wait until we all had full tummies?)

As it turned out, Francois had not yet eaten,  and there was plenty of Salmon to go around (poached in a mix of mushrooms, eggplant chunks, green peppers and tomato if you’re curious).

Mistress set the table. Francois arrived just as I was sautéing the green beans.  Simple but tasty, if I do say so myself.

We enjoyed the wine, laughed a lot, cleaned our plates, emptied a couple of bottle of wine, and talked about  logistics for our upcoming “Home Cumming Weekend”.

Some topics covered:

n  Acquisition of two butterfly vibrators with remotes, for Mistress and Babette.

n  The need for Mistress to add a larger dildo for use with her strap-on, since Babette is quite open to that experience, and the general opinion was that it was time for Slave to graduate to something more substantial.

n  Mistress’s role in the proceeding? “You’re the switch…. I’m in charge but you get to Domme Babette”, according to Francois.

n  Complements. Mistress is addicted to them, but that’s her Slave’s job. According to Francois, his Calvinist upbringing does not lend itself to lavishing praise.

n  The Blog. It seems Francois is enjoying his cameo appearances. Like us, he is already focusing on how prospective activities will be great “blog fodder”.

Overall, it was a very enjoyable evening. And it was a delight to see the smile on Mistress’s face and the twinkle in her eye as her two men fawned over her, each in their own way.

Afterwards, I commented on the pleasure that Mistress seemed to take in the whole admittedly unusual  proceeding.

“What’s not to like, Slave….”

At some point, after dinner,  I got a call I needed to take, so did not have a good chance to say goodbye, as Mistress walked Francois to his car. He was the perfect gentleman in front of me, I might add. But I understand Mistress got a nice kiss goodnight.

NO doubt, there will be further developments to report.

Back in Our Empty Nest

So here we are, after what seems like a lengthy absence, back in our River city nest, with the sullen teens still gone.

Pinch me.

We made it home a little after midnight on Saturday, slept in, read the papers. Mistress was reunited with the “kittens” she and the teens dote on.

Both of us were a little too stiff and sore from the long driving day on Saturday, so we passed on our weekly switch day, settling instead for some long and leisurely love making before our morning bike ride.

Mistress did take her time toying with my cock – both with her warm mouth and well manicured fingers, making me beg to fiuck her…. It was all very frustrating, if ultimately rewarding..

It certainly was strange to have a Sunday to ourselves, back her in River City, with no family duties to attend to, kids to nag about their homework, other folks’ messes to clean, etc., etc.

(Though there was a very early morning text message from Europe this am, with the critical query: “how much is in my bank account”.)

We can get used to this.

As I was settling down to watch the local NFL team take on the team from our WC’s hometown, I did get a text  message from him:

“What should we bet.”

After quickly consulting with Mistress, who was draped across a nearby couch, reading the Times, I responded:

“Molly and B?”

(i.e., if my team won, I’d get a shot at his wife; and he’d got one with Molly if my team won).

Of course, this was a sucker’s bet. With me as the sucker. Our team had not won in this particular venue since Gerald Ford was President. I kid you not!  So it should have been an easy bet for Miguel to take.

But no…. he backed away. I got some line about how he needed to consult his wife, that she was likely to get back at him for the caning she had absorbed following their encounter with the book Donna had sent them.

Cold feet, M. 

(Of course, M’s team did win, though it was a little closer a game than I had anticipated).

I think Mistress was a little disappointed in his reluctance to take the bet..

But I did try to sooth her with a little worship before bedtime.

It seemed to pass.

State By State Breakdown

Yesterday saw us wake at a Best Western  in Illinois for morning sex, breakfast in Michigan at a favorite little greasy spoon on the Lakeshore, attend a college football game in Indiana, then complete the daunting 260 drive back home. What was the rush, you might ask? We’ve had enough of sleazy motel beds. And after all the driving we’ve done, somehow 260 miles just seemed like a jaunt around the block.

Fortunately, the outcome of the game had Mick in a good mood. And Mistress, well she is not much of a football fan.  Here’s how she engaged herself at the game.

About 1/3 of the way home, we did stop long enough for a pit stop and a celebratory “meal” at one of Molly’s favorite haunts along the highway home.  She ordered what amounted to a deep dish sundae in a styro-foam cup.

It looked yummier than it sounds. The sugar high and Mick Jagger kept us rolling on home, arriving not long after midnight.

Bt we did find a way to entertain ourselves along the way yesterday.

On our way west, one of you suggested we make sure there was a Molly and Mick sex act in every sate we passed through. And we completed that rather simple assignment on the trip back, knocking off Kansas and Illinois.

But somewhere between breakfast and game time, we decided to make a list of all the states where Molly and Mick had “gotten it on”. I drove while Molly composed this rather primitive if amusing spread sheet, to which I’ve added a few editorial comments:

Maine: Molly. 

NH:  Shut-out.  “Live free or Die”, sounds a little threatening to us.

Vermont: MM together.  (But Molly scraped her knee while biking).

NY: M/M together ( Plenty of nights in Big Apple hotels).

Mass: M/M together.  (Slave impressed Molly with his faux JFK accent, and scored).

Delaware: Too small, with apologies to Joe Biden.

Maryland: Never went on the Edgar Allen Poe tour.

RI: Mick. (But that was in a former life).

Conn: yes, but not with each other.

Penn: Molly. (She had a soft spot for Ben Franklin?)

NJ: MM together. Trip to Shore to visit Mick’s Mother. (Before “Jersey Shore” became a bad joke.)

DC: MM together. This goes back to our “undercover” days, and I’m not referring to the CIA.

VA: (No, unless making out in Subway on way to Reagan Airport counts).

NC: Molly (visits to beach)

SC: Molly (ditto)

Georgia: MM together (Highlight: 1988 Democratic Convention. Much hydration needed).

Florida: MM together (before and after we went public).

Alabama: (We spend as little time as possible in  these types of states).

Miss: (ditto).

Arkansas: No, but a former Governor hit on Molly once.

Tenn: MM together. Before and after climbing Mt. LeCont.

LA:  MM together. Some excellent times in NOLA.

Texas: Never took a roll on grassy knoll.

Michigan: MM together. (Weekends at the beach on Lake shore),

Indiana:  MM together. Visits to Mick’s alma mater.

Ohio:  MM together

Illinois:  MM together.  Hot times on cold nights in Windy City.

Wisconsin: Molly. (She has a soft spot for Madison radicals.)

Minnesota: Molly. (Not sure Mick got the story on this one….maybe when she was a camp counselor?)

West Va: MM together. Visits to grandma’s house.

Kentucky:  MM together. Just a short drive away.

Kansas: MM together (A memorable night last week in Abilene at a sketchy motel).

Missouri; MM together (Show Me (and tell) in Independence).

Oklahoma: MM together (Will Rogers’ hometown).

Nebraska: Off our beaten path.

Iowa: (Can’t believe Molly did not score when she went to caucus in 1988, but so she claims.)

North Dakota: Molly (Lots happened on her geology field trips in College, apparently.

South Dakota: Molly (ditto)

Montana: Molly (ditto)

Idaho: Molly (ditto)

Wyoming: yes, but not together.

Colorado: MM together and separately  (ski tripping at Vail and elesewhere).

Utah: Utah (cold nights in Snow Pine Lodge at Alta).

Arizona:

NM: MM together

Nevada: MM together (Crazy few days in Vegas on Molly’s company expense account)

Washington: MM together (rainy Seattle).

Oregon:  MM together (Rocky coastline for a family wedding).

California: MM together (San Francisco, and points north… Santa Monica too).

Hawaii: both, but with prior spouses. Don Ho did not participate.

Alaska: Molly’s been there, but she claims no one got past 2^nd base.

As you can see, Mick was not even close in this contest. Guess I didn’t get around as much as Molly did in my youth. Either that, or Molly just has more fun.  For those of you interested in following in her footsteps, I would recommend majoring in Geology. Apparently those field trips get a little wild when the sun goes down on the granite and limestone.

Sex (Blog) Tourism

Yes, we re still in the road, safely ensconced in a Best Western smack dab against a Wal-Mart Super Center, in an Illinois town that I can neither spell nor pronounce (but it does remind me of that Disney animated movie about a rat who aspires to be a gourmet chef).

Thursday night we ended up in Abilene, Kansas, at an off the beaten path motel that our daughters would have rejected as "sketchy". But the bed was comfy, and we found a rather seedy restaurant for some hearty grub a little too crammed with flat screen TV's,  a trend that sadly seems to have infected America's eataries from sea to shining sea. The staff was very chipper though, if a little on the TMI side. (When a customer  asks for his waitress I'm not sure I want to be hear that "she's cleaning the restrooms, but will be done in a minute")

Back at our motel, I opened a bottle of Tequilla for Mistress, who needed to wash that greasy food taste out of her lovely mouth. Soon we were in bed, and after some worship as a digestive, she got a little feisty.

"I want to ride my cock now, Slave...." And ride she did, taking her good old heartland time to take her self to Oz and back. When she had her fill of her "mount", the tables were reversed and Slave took his pleasure, working out the kinks from a long day in the car. While we had missed checking off "sex in Kansas" from the punch card on our way West, that mission had now finally been accomplished.

We highly recommend it.

Friday morning I had an early conference call, walking the quiet streets of this former "cowtown", which was at the top of the Chisholm Trail, the place where the cattle raised and fattened in Texas would be placed in rail cars for the trip east. (I did notice this sign at our motel, and am still wondering what it means. any help?)

When my call was done, I was able to wake Mistress with a little more worship and some wake-up sex before we headed out to the Eisenhower library and Museum, just a few blocks away. It was pastoral, and well suited to the bland fellow I recall as a kid, but not nearly as engaging as the Truman Museum we visited on our trip West. I noted two people missing from all the memorabilia and narrative: Ike's VP, Dick Nixon, and his reputed "girlfriend", the WAC driver Kay Summersby. (Mistress was a little shocked when I shared that story from my old guy memory bank).

After our tour, we were back in the car. And Mistress had a backlog of text messages.

The WC was sharing details of his "epic" sex, doming his wife, B, both of them inspired by the book Donna had sent, written by the Master of LaDomaine.  Donna, maybe you should give us a review?  It sounds as if the WC got to put his ass fucking tutorial to use.

And of course, she also herd from Francois, who is warming her up for her return to River City (yes, folks, we will make it back, by Sunday, after a brief detour today for a football game at my alma mater).

On the drive we even skyped with our daughter in Belgium, who described how she and her new buddies often stop off at a little cafe after school for a beer to decompress. I guess she's not in Kansas anymore.

Nor were we. By dinner time we were on the banks of the Mississippi, in Hannibal, Mo. the boyhood home of Samuel Clemmons, aka, Mark Twain. It was an opportune time to stretch our legs and walk around this cute, if touristy, little river town, that was all things Twain. But of course there was also "The first coffee shop (with wi-fi) West of the Mississippi.

Mistress is still snoozing, but I think it will soon be time to wake her.... most likely with a tongue wiggling it's way between her lovely thighs.