It's Christmas Eve here in River City, and the good news is that the rain is threatening to stop for a few hours. Good timing, because I will be taking my little co-ed and an older daughter and her beau to see the Pussycats play what amounts to a play-off game for them. Then we have the big Christmas Eve family gathering - the one we've avoided for the last 11 years or so. But this year, I'm actually looking forward to it.
39 degrees, rain and mudslides is not something that brings Bing Crosby crooning to mind. But it's a pleasant break to be here for what we hope will not be too harried a weekend.
Yesterday was another day we've not experienced in a while: the last work day before the Christmas break, when both of our offices shut down "spontaneously" a few hours early for the holidays, just as everyone suspected they would.
And, of course, Mistress and Slave planned to do just that: escaping at noon for a little R & R.
I must say we were a little surprised to find Francois waiting for us when we got home -- apparently even the French Foreign Legion arranges for a little early liberte' for the Holidays! He bore marzipan treats confiscated from some evil terrorist black marketeer his comrades had brought to justice, to satisfy Mistress's longing. But because the sullen co-ed was lurking about, that was the extent to which Mistress's needs were satisfied by our MIA "chef".
We even invited our daughter to come down and meet our exotic friend, but she demurred.
"I'm in a towel", was all she said.
"Won't bother me", Francois muttered under his breath.
No doubt.
After Francois left for another engagement, Mistress and the cute Co-Ed were off for some nail maintenance, and Slave did a little final Christmas shopping. Packages were wrapped, and there was still time for a brief nap before meeting my older daughter and her boyfriend, in from DC, for some pizza.
Waking from our nap, Mistress asked for the phone.
"I fell a little bad I've not talked to the WC in a while Slave.... let's give him a call."
Well, one thing led to another and before you knew it, Slave was on his knees, Mistress's legs were spread, and I was enjoying her sweet juices as she listed to whatever tale of debauchery he was murmuring in her ear.
The result was two nice little post nap, pre-pizza cums for our CEO. Let's hope our other colleagues put their early dismissal to just as good a use!
We hope all of our readers have a relaxing Christmas Eve with family and friends. Look here tomorrow for a real holiday treat: Our Western and Southern Correspondent have collaborated on a particularly amusing essay on corporal punishment that I know you will not want to miss! In fact, you may want to consider adding a paddle or over-sized shoe horn to your loved one's stocking tonight, just in case he or she is inspired by tomorrow's blog.
Yesterday, as Mistress and her Slave were doing their morning commute
to work, it was hard for me not to get a little distracted by Mistress
long, shapely legs, stretched out onto the dash, with those alluring
black tights and boots.
"Do we have those special
tights on Mistress?"
"I do Slave.... I wear them just
about every day."
My right hand drifted off the wheel,
sliding onto her thigh, headed to clean shaven
folds north. Her thighs spread, as I found my mark, damp and fertile.
"Watch out Slave, I think we gave that trucker and eyeful...."
Sure
enough, I'd not noticed the Semi Cab just to the right of our steel and
glass capsule, as it hurdled through time and space.
"We may have made his day, Mistress."
Of course, at my age, I've got a good deal of experience at using
my fingers to provide a little pleasure to my Mistress. Within a minute
or two, her thighs were squeezing my hand tight, and she bucked and
sighed to a little "on the way to work" cum.
"Well that
was a nice treat, Mistress."
"You'll be oozing sex when you go to that morning meeting,
Mistress."
"Do you really think?"
The cabin of her car was
filled with her pheromones my now. I pitied those young guys around the
conference table with her later in the morning. It could be distracting.
After her temperature cooled a bit, I asked "what ever happened
to Francois, Mistress?"
"You know, it has been a few weeks.... he had the problem with
the sick dog.... and it seems harder for him to get away in the
evenings.... but, come to think of it, I haven't heard from him in a
week or two."
I resolved to get to the bottom of it, so when I got to the
office, I deployed my considerable sleuthing skills.
It seems that Francois, who's military background we've noted
here before, had been called up for active duty with his comrades in the
French Foreign Legion. Apparently with President Sarkozy's more
muscular foreign policy, there is a need for a quick strike force for
covert ops, and the gourmet cook to keep their bellies full.
Francois's
family has a long history of service to the Legion. I think that's his
grandfather, with the beard in this archival photo.
So while we will be
celebrating the Holidays in our cozy homes with families and friends,
poor devoted Francois will be in forbidden climes, wondering where the
hell he can find a few hundred pounds of fresh mussels and some crisp
Poully
Fusse to wash them down with. No doubt some first class cuisine is required keep those fighting legionaires in the mood
to bag another Arab dictator for Mother France.
But as I pressed further into the basic
re-training that Francois has been required to endure, to get himself
back into fighting shape, I got a little concerned. I mean, what about
those family jewels? Will they come back intact from
those hostile climes?
And is there any concern about
snakes and scorpions when they do this curious exercise?
We do hope that Francois takes care of himself over there. And
when he's done disposing of President Assad, we hope he returns to
River City safely and with all his "faculties" in full operating order. In the meantime, Francois, we also hope you enjoy the company of
your comrades, and the delicacies that may present themselves along
the way. Just be careful of the sweetbreads!
Slave finished up a rather time consuming project for work yesterday, giving me a much cleaner plate as we approach the time of year when the office clears out, the phone rings much less than normal, and the work related emails slow to a crawl. In past years, we would already be heading out to our Mountain Hideaway, kids in tow, for skiing and relaxing in that place we love for its natural beauty and distinctive culture.
In fact this is the first time in 13 years we have spent the holidays here in River City. Our sullen teen, who used to whine about missing her friends at the holidays, now says she's "bored" here. Ah well.
One thing that made us leave here at Christmas time for so many years was the mind numbing and angst inducing requirement that we deal with our extended family in long drawn-out carbo loading rituals. Too much drama and backbiting!
But oddly, after 13 years of making new friends out in the high dessert, we have discovered its a bit of a relief to avoid what had become compulsory group meals and outings with a motley crew of a little too high maintenance 2nd homers from places like Houston and Tulsa.
Suddenly I'm looking forward to a Christmas Eve at my daughter's place, with my two cute grandsons running wild, chomping at the bit for Santa's arrival, rather than making green chili stew for 15 acquired ski buds, and worrying whether some ditzy college professor from Texas will guzzle all of my Jameson before I get a pour.
Last night closed the deal on the "wish we were there or here" debate for Holidays 2011. The same Jamison guzzling Texas ditz texted Mistress with the "big news" that a certain former Secretary of Defense who should be in the Hague on trial for war crimes had just arrived at our favorite joint to have a few drinks and listen to music. Talk about the grinch who stole Christmas!
That made it official: we're glad to be home for the holidays!!
Last night, after we lit the candles, the sullen teen even made us latkas to go with some flank steak I grilled in the a little too warm for the holidiays weather here in River City. Yum!
We'll head out West - just the two of us- in mid-January, when the crowds or off the mountain and I can bogart that bottle of Jamison to my heart's content.
Ooops.... I almost forgot. This is a sex blog! Not a whiners forum. Fortunately, our Senior Correspondent has something to steam up your day:
Tuesday was our 33rd
wedding anniversary and we had said we would forgo gifts this year. We had
decided we would chalk up the remodeling as our anniversary gift, not only for
this year, but for many years to come.
On Tuesday morning, I headed
out to the kitchen to plug in my old trusty percolator and there on the counter
was an envelope with my name on it, and beside it sat a small jewelry box. I
took the box in my hands, popped the lid back, and there sat a beautiful ring,
white gold with amethyst stones in a diamond pattern. Beautiful. I slid it onto
my ring finger and found that it fit like a dream. I opened the card, and while
Bill usually gives me funny cards, this one had a wonderful romantic lyric. Aw!
So sweet.
And then it dawned on me
that I didn't have anything for Bill! That bugger. We said we weren't going to
do this and now he had given me this beautiful gift and I didn't have anything
for him. But wait, as a red-blooded, hot and sexy male, I could think of
something Bill always appreciated receiving.
Deciding to make this
both decadent and luxurious, I headed down the hallway, pausing at the guest
bath to heat up a thick, soft washcloth under very warm water, then headed into
the bedroom. I slipped into the bed, pulling the covers back to expose my naked
He-Man. Just as he started to make grouchy noises and turn onto his side, I
began slowly rubbing his groin with the very warm, soft cloth. On some deep
level, his body remembered what follows a warm massage like that, and he
returned to his back and gave a little hum as I continued on.
As you can well imagine,
what followed was a great deal of cock licking and sucking, a fair amount of
using my tongue to bring balls further into my mouth, one, then the other, to
be sure they each received the attention they deserved, and all the above was
accompanied by some pressure on that very sensitive spot just behind the ball
sack. Thoughts of the WC's brother's thumb action came to mind and with a few
naughty thoughts whispered into the long, hard human microphone I held in my
hand, may I say that Bill launched very, very well.
Not one to stop until I,
too, have been sated, he pulled me onto his chest and as he became revitalized,
we continued together. After a rest, the Hitachi came into action followed by a
shared warm shower with much kissing and laughter throughout.
What I offered may not
have been wrapped with a bow, but Bill was smiling about his anniversary
wake-up for quite some time.
Earlier today I was
thinking that since we don't have little kids around eager to get us out of bed
at the crack of dawn to see what Santa brought, and even though I do have other
gifts for Bill, maybe I should plan on an encore for Christmas morning. I don't
think he'd say no. You?
Coming Up Tomorrow: Whatever happened to that Francois guy? Here's a hint.
Mistress's new job has kept her extraordinarily busy these last two months. That, plus the fact that she is no longer a short walk away has greatly diminished her chances to stop by my office for suitable homage during the work day.
But yesterday, as I drive to work, I hatched a plot. Knowing that she was taking her burgeoning staff to a holiday lunch at a restaurant across the street from me, I figured this was a cahnce that should not go to waste.
I called Mistress from the car on my drive to work.
"Mistress, I forgot to mention.... there's this document we both need to sign and get notarized. Maybe you can do that at lunch time, too?"
Of course, there was a matter of how she would get back to the office. I offered to drive her when all the paperwork was done. And there really was a paper to sign.... sure it could be done the following week as well.... but, why pass on the opportunity?
Mistress accepted my offer, and after her lunch, at around 2 pm. I heard her chatting out in the hallway.
"Sorry, I'm a little late, Slave.... your partner B saw me, and well...."
Yes, B, with the rather bitchy and distant wife, who always needs some "Molly time" when she is in the office. Who can blame him. If there ever was a candidate for a mercy fuck, it might be him.
But I digress.
The paperwork could wait. I closed the door, pressed the chair up against the wall, and, after a swift embrace and kiss, settled Mistress into her throne.
Naturally, she had on those very practical peek-a-boo tights.
"I've got three pairs now, Slave. They really are comfortable, and practical, though sometimes my 'parts' pop out a little too obscenely."
Not on my account.
In any event, it was not long before Slave was where he belongs - on his knees - plying those clean shaven folds with the attention they deserved.
(I made sure I had shaven in advance. The other morning I earned a discipline because my scriffy chin abraded her delicate skin 'down there').
Mistress came with a delightful, sensuous moan, making only a slight little clunk as her head went back against the door in her muted 'throes'. I doubt anyone was paying attention in the hallway.
And with those practical tights, there was no need to rearrange her undies (what undies?) or slide back on a boot. We could just move onto getting that document notarized.
Later, after work, we hooked up with the sullen "bored' teen at our gym for a brisk workout, before heading home.
It was the first night of Hanukkah, and we lit that first candle, Mistress doing her best to remember the Hebrew incantation. It was sad that our 2nd teen was not here for this familiar ritual, and to collect a goody of some sort, as is our family tradition. But no doubt she is enjoying her Holiday break in Europe.
And we had goodies to open too.
Donna, our Senior correspondent, and her daughter had been amazingly considerate, sending us a package that arrived a week ago, filled with Hanukkah gifts they selected. Mistress and her daughter were a little greedy and opened most of them (there were too marked "adult" which Mistress subtly set aside. And there were even a few items for me to give to my cute little grandsons.
That was amazingly considerate, and generous, Donna! Thanks to you and your daughter for taking the time!
We hope this season, when we deploy our varied traditions to bring light to the longest nights of the year, brings comfort and joy to all of our friends and readers!
