Our Senior Correspondent Reports in On Her Home Improvement Crew

 Molly and Mick had a relatively laid back day yesterday. After work, there was dinner at a trendy downtown "artisan pizza" joint, then up the hill to our local cinema to see "The Descendants", the new Clooney movie directed by the guy who did "Sideways".  No sex at all, btw, but a compelling movie worth seeing this holiday season. 

Over dinner, Mistress described the flurry of texts and other communications she'd gotten from Francois, the WC and E during the course of the day --- that sort of attention always puts a little spring in her step and a glow in her cheek. And who can blame her?

Now, I'm turning this morning's post over to Donna, who has an update from her cabin about those ongoing home improvements:

One of the UCTMW readers recently asked about our home remodeling, wondering why I hadn't mentioned  it in a while.

Well, here is the answer, home remodeling is more about adaptation and survival skills than sexy thoughts. However, just because I love you, I have developed a scoring system for the men who have been in our home over the past month and a half. As an aside, please know that no one has approached me and I know full well that I might not be a high scorer on their score sheets, but it's my blog post so I can do whatever Mick allows! Hahaha

The Rating Index:

5=All Star! Head for the bed and break out the whips and chains.
4=Not Bad at All, How much experience do you have with BDSM?
3=Well, I don't think so. Have you ever heard of BDSM?
2=Um, no thank you. And by the way, BDSM is not Bologna, Donuts, Sausage and Meatballs.
1=No way. Ever. Never.

So, shall we begin with the destruction team, ripping out the entire kitchen.

On the Rating Index, these two guys are a zero.  Cleanliness of body and a set of teeth in the mouth are a basic requirement for me. Dentures are fine, as long as they fit well enough not to clack or spray spit when speaking, but I enjoy a little nibbling, rather than gumming, on the nipples and further south, too. These men were, shall we say, unfamiliar with the concepts of spending quality time with bathing, deodorant, or a dental hygienist. To top that off, I can't believe they could reach their age without learning about nose hair clippers. Really. There should not be nostril hairs hanging down and waving in the breeze as one talks.

You know, like many things, a remodel begins so simply and then one thing leads to another. The contractor found electrical problems that led to me developing enough of a relationship with the electrician that he feels comfortable coming in with a little knock at the door in the mornings and pouring himself a cup of coffee and getting some cream from the fridge.  Nice guy, good sense of humor, and reasonably clean. He has some rough edges on a few political thoughts left over from growing up amidst Bible thumpers, but nothing that couldn't be handled with a Rachel Maddow intervention.  I would give Mr. Electrician a three.

The plumber hasn't been here quite as often, but please, tell me this, is it in the code of ethics of The Plumbers of the World, that they are required to wear pants that droop? Talk about your crack problem in America! Overall, a nice guy, grey haired and a tad stout, he gets extra credit points for getting the toilets back in operation, which beings him up to a three and a half.

The contractor, what can I say? I suspect he is planning to hang a stocking on our mantle this year, and really, that doesn't sound like such a bad idea. Very fit,  liberal, formerly the sound man for a couple of big name Rock Bands, he has a wicked sense of humor and is making our house look great. While we were out yesterday, he switched the direction the refrigerator opens, which means he had to take everything out of the door of the fridge...which is where I keep my glass dildo chilling. When we returned home he commented that he wasn't sure he got everything back in exactly the same location, and that we have some interesting condiments-and gave Bill the eyebrow waggle. lol The man is a four.

What, you think I am too picky? Well, that may be the case, but in order to rank a five, these men would need to measure up to Bill, and they just don't.  Bill has a full beard, going grey and white, as is his remaining hair. His eyes are a beautiful hazel with a brown streak running through one eye, and they twinkle when he is pleased or can be as sharp as a lightening bolt when he is pissed off. When he laughs, everyone around laughs too; whether they heard the joke or not they just can't help themselves. He is intelligent, keeps up with world events and is willing to stick his neck out to stand up for what's right. And to top it off, he is one sexy Dom!

Just yesterday, when the sound of hammers and drills was beginning to make my eyes roll back in my head, he reached out and pinched, and I mean pinched my nipples. In the pain there was a grounding that I really needed. And this morning, when I started to over-do in trying to accomplish things, he pointed to the couch and said in his deep Dom voice, "Your butt. Planted there. Now!" And so I did.

My Bill is the only five in the whole bunch. 

Together we will survive the remodel. We will have a kitchen again and peace in the cabin will be restored so we can go naked more often and get back to our BDSM. The ropes, the toys, the floggers and crop are all waiting in the wings!

Hugs to all.

Senior Correspondent,

Donna

Of course this begs the question, Donna: what do you do with the chilled dildo?

Mick 

Mistress's New Office

First off, let me reassure our readers that Slave and Mistress broke their streak of one-a-days yesterday for a little more time together in the comfy confines of our executive suite.

With a more conventional 8:30 am departure time, there was more time for some leisurely wake-up sex, which is always appreciated here at the UCTMW World HQ.

At midday, Slave blew off a teleconference in my office to go visit Mistress in her new digs.  This is very contemporary office space, about a 5 minute drive across our center city area from my office.

Sleek. Modern. Open air. But the downside is that there is no apparent private space for the type of "pick me up" that she and I can enjoy back at my office, which is no longer just a short walk away.  But Slave is not easily deterred. And Mistress, in those black tights and boots was particularly alluring.

The plan was to pick up some lunch in a Deli situated in her building, then see if we could find a "private" spot to share lunch and maybe a little  apertif, consisting of Mistress's sultry juices, to go with it. 

"There is that big conference space above our main floor slave, I think there may be some private offices there...."

We grabbed our lunch - she had a "make your own" salad and I had a club sandwich - and headed up the stairwell.

Sure enough there was this big open space, and two offices along the wall with clouded glass walls providing a little privacy. 

Mistress opened the one office door and ----Ooops ---- there was one of her colleagues, using the space to conduct some type of private call.  Mistress was a little embarrassed, caught skulking about with her husband in tow for no apparent reason.  And since the other office was right next to the room where the phone was in use, it seemed a tad reckless to engage in activity there where moans of release might carry through thin walls.

Dang.

So we settled for lunch in a public area on the middle of that big room, with occasional random walk thrus by other employees keeping us "honest" and in no worship mode. (I was able to take that rather blurry photo of Mistress with those killer legs in black tights and over-the-knee boots stretched out over our lunch table).

Sad.  This is becoming a challenge, and I suspect Mistress and Slave shall ultimately overcome.  But the experience left Slave a little frustrated for the balance of the afternoon.

Fortunately, Mistress, who worked a little later than normal, elected to pass on the trip we planned to the gym after work. W arrived home at around 7:30. Though accused of "passive aggressive" behavior when I deferred to Mistress as to whether we should have sex immediately upon our arrival home, rest assured that Slave's horniness was dealt with properly.

"Why don't you insert your device, Slave (the aneros).... I'd like a particularly hard cock...."

It was an excellent idea, and as always, Mistress got what she requested.

HNT / Getting Holiday Ready

First, for those of you concerned about the prospects of an Ice Age here at UCTMW based on yesterday's post, breath easy. After I signed off here yesterday morning, I crept up the stairs and found Mistress sound asleep. She'd had a particularly long day Tuesday - back and forth for a business pitch in the Big Apple - and was pretty tired. But after I nuzzled her awake she was definitely in a feistier mood.

The bonus for me was that she still had her peek-a-boo tights on from the night before. You can imagine me cuddling up particularly close to her during the night as she slept, satisfying my fetish for the texture of those tights against my thighs and cock. Now I was going to get a more satisfying opportunity to fully exploit them.

As she read the blog it was ritual worship time: me spreading her thighs, and camping out at their apex, using my tongue to tease her into arousal as she read the daily edition. Then, once she closed the laptop, I went to work in earnest, treating her to a nice wake-up cum to break her day long "fast" (really it had been since Monday evening).

Then it was my turn. She generously used her fingers to make sure her work-a-day cock was at full mast, then allowed me to slide it into that strategically placed aperture in those tights.

Ahhh.....

Suffice it to say that I was way past ready for this little treat.

When I asked permission, and it was granted, Mistress was complementary.

"My.... that was a big one Slave.... you must have been pretty horny for me...."

No fooling.

We went into work a little later than normal, and after work, headed over to our gym for a little pre-dinner work out. That's an additional bonus of the empty nest: no need to rush home to feed sullen teens.

One change for us this holiday season is that we will not be headed to our Mountain hideaway for Christmas and New Years, something that has been our routine for  13 years or so. Mistress's new job, and school schedules for our one daughter makes it pretty impractical.  Though it will be strange to be "home for the holidays" here in River City.

The picture above is from our place out West. I know as Christmas approaches, we will be whiney and nostalgic. Dealing with the grumpier members of the family, rather than the ski slopes and the laid back ambiance of the Mountains will be a pain. But we will do our best. We even put up a Christmas tree over the weekend. I'm thinking that on Switch Day, we may have to do a little photo shoot with the tree as seasonal background.

Endurance

Let me get to the heart of the matter. And I realize that this may strike a terrible blow to the credibility of Molly and Mick as the couple with (allegedly) the most active sex life in the blog-o-sphere. (Not including masturbation .... that title clearly belongs to the WC).

THERE WAS NO SEX HERE TUESDAY!

You see, Mistress had a day trip to the Big Apple with some colleagues. It was a dreary cold and rainy day. Like a good Slave, I offered to drive her  to the airport and pick her up. We had to rise at 5 am, and well.... that's just too danged early for our typical wake up sex. And Mistress was so focused on putting on all the armour for an important new business pitch that she did not even have time to read the blog and enjoy the attention of Mick's well trained lips and tongue.

She did snap this photo of her "Day in the City" boots, as we drove in the rain and dark yesterday morning, leaving at around 5:30 am. She mentioned she had worn those special peek-a-boo tights, a little tantalizing hint of what might be in store when she returned. (Or for anyone happening to be in the right vantage point during the day should she uncross those very fit legs with her skirt hiked up just a bit).

Her plane returned to River City a little past schedule, at around 7:30 pm. Amazingly, it was still dark and the rain had gotten even worse. By the time we got home, Slave was hungry, and made a turkey sandwich from our TG Day leftovers. We relaxed, settled into the couch and caught up on our day, watched a bit of the Woody Allen documentary we had DVR'ed from last week. But not long after the part about the filming of Manhattan (Slave's favorite movie of all time!), I noticed that Mistress was drifting off.

My window of opportunity had shut. And though she was still in those peek-a-boo tights, by the time I got her up to bed, she was actually too exhausted for worship, let alone allowing me to fuck her.

The poor girl had a long and stressful day. And was certainly entitled to take a pass.

But I don't think the winter here will be quite as cold and lonely as the kind these poor suckers had:

Mistress was merciful enough that she slept in those special tights, and Slave will be heading upstairs soon to the Executive suite, to take full advantage. See, I am a pampered Slave after all.