Friday Night Lite

It had been a busy week in River City for both Mistress and Slave when Molly called me at about 3 pm Friday afternoon. There had been talk about a "happy hour" at a new bar downtown with some of her colleagues. But now she had other plans, concocted on her drive back from a lunch meeting down river, not far from Aisha-land.

"It's a beautiful day down here Slave... why don't we just go home a little early and go for a bike ride."

I couldn't argue with her plan. Why not take advantage of the fruits of global warming?  How many early February days in the 60's are there?

Mistress texted me when she pulled up outside my building and I scrambled down to meet her. She was suitably dressed for her "power lunch", all in black naturally, which gave me a lovely view of those shapely legs stretched onto the dash as I drove her homeward. She even took a photo at my suggestion.

We got home with plenty of sunshine left in the evening, switched to our riding cloths. Soon we were doing that hill climb that separates the field slaves from the pampered house slaves. But since it was my third day in a row, I did a pretty good job of keeping up with my very fit Mistress.

Once home. we had a glorious unscheduled night in front of us. And you can imagine where it started.

After I showered, I joined Mistress between the sheets, where I made sure to do a workmanlike job of pleasuring those clean shaven folds. And after a couple of cums, she allowed her Slave to mount her and take my own pleasure.

Spent, we drifted off for a while, at least until the two cats climbed on board to see what they were missing. By them, we were both getting a little hungry. We had talked about walking down to a neighborhood joint for some beverages and snacks,  but even that sounded like too much effort.

So instead Slave did an inventory of our shrinking larder, and whipped up some gnocchi with pesto, mushrooms and eggplant. Yummy if I do say so myself. Meantime, Mistress selected a movie for us to watch - an Indie called "Newlyweds" that had a Manhattan setting and a Woody Allen atmosphere.

Hardly deep, but charming. And a nice way to spend the evening, cuddled together on the couch, tummy's filled, a bottle of wine to polish off.

Much better than "Happy Hour".

'What will we do when the girls are back for the summer, Slave...."

"I don't even want to think about it."

You Look Lovely Today, Mrs. Cleaver.

Here in River City the weather has been .... unusual. For the second day in a row I was able to go on an after work bike ride in temperatures in the mid-50's. If the Groundhog predicts 6 more weeks of this, then bring it on.

And after last night's ride, Mistress stretched out on our bed, spread her legs, and let me worship through the cunning aperture in her peek-a-boo tights (yes, she had left them on for the ride-- they are all purpose!)

But what about the odd title of the blog, Mick....

Well I was reading Aisha's post from yesterday, and she mentioned something about other bloggers spending words this week on the subject of whether submissive women were somehow longing for the simpler days of the 50's and 60's, when they were not "burdened" with choices like having a career or when to reproduce.

Of course, Aisha's view is that the sort of "submission" she and others relish is voluntary, not because there are no other options.

But as you might expect, Mick had a more puckish perspective.... I got thinking about whether those iconic "house wives" of the 50's and 60's were actually doing something kinkier than making sure the fish sticks were warm and crispy when hubby and the kids gathered around her kitchen table for Friday night dinner.

Quite frankly, as I contemplated it, my mind drifted in a different direction.

As an example, it's hard to imagine Ward Cleaver forcing June to her knees to suck that very white cock.  But I could imagine June grabbing Wally's friend Eddie Haskell by the scruff of his neck, making him lick the toes of her sensible shoes, then allowing him to let his tongue slide up the inside of her thigh, where those 50's stocking tops led to something more tasty than double stuffed baked potatoes.

Come to think of it, maybe that explains why Eddie was such a suck up.He had hands on practice.

Then there are Ozzie and Harriet Nelson. Could Harriet have kept Ricky and David suck good little boys without wielding a mean paddle. And if so, it's hard to imagine that Ozzie didn't get some of that action too. Otherwise why did he always arrive home exactly at 5:35 pm?

And what about that dork Darrin, on "Bewitched"? Hardly a Dom. Isn't it more likely that Samantha cast some type of spell to make Darrin an obedient (if lumpy) sex slave than that he tied her to the door frame and reddened that insouciant ass?

Finally, what about that babe with origins in the 1950's with the mind controlling lasso, and the bullet proof bracelets? She was the object of more than a few adolescent fantasies in all those suburban neighborhoods.  It's hard to imagine her being a pushover in the bedroom, isn't it?

HNT / My Languishing Mistress

AS predicted, there was some hot wake-up sex here at the World HQ yesterday morning, commencing at 6:30 am sharp. It was worth rushing yesterday's post to get to more important business.

Slave and Mistress drove separately though: she had a late afternoon meeting, and I had a Doctor's appointment. So I got home a little earlier than normal - in time to go for a pre-sunset bike ride in our bizarre spring like weather. (The ground hog clearly must be confused this year in the heartland).

But when Mistress got home.... sadly she was feeling a little under the weather. She could not even be persuaded to accept appropriate worship.  I tried to tend to her needs: brewing her some tea and honey, with a Tequila chaser.

She was not interested in dinner: just sliding into bed. But in the process she slid into some "sleepwear" I had presented to her for Christmas.

"maybe a brief photo shoot, Mistress?"

She rolled her eyes, not really in the mood. But I think she knew as well as I did that in the absence of hot sex-capades to describe here, we owed our devoted readers a little eye candy.

And then she had another suggestion.

"Remember the blog about  slapping and riding, Slave?"

"Ah, yes....."

"Maybe we should give our readers a view of my freshly manicured fingers.... in case they want to imagine that well timed slap."

So we took a few more photos....

Mistress languished the rest of the evening. She did read over some of the other blogs with me. We were glad to see that Suzanne and Tammy over at All Mine had picked up a little of the UCTMW spirit and engaged in a little office lunch time worship, although I'll note that Suzanne prefers her worship from behind.... Vive Le Difference, as Mitt Romney would have said during his Paris Mission days.

Fortunately, Mistress was feeling a little better this morning, which explains why the blog got posted a little later than usual.

Boots

Mistress has been working harder these last few months than she has for many years. Her new gig is challenging and demanding, but she seems to be enjoying it.  But it has cut into some time we might otherwise have for sexual hijinks.

That doesn't mean of course that we don't take the opportunities that present themselves.

Yesterday morning we didn't need to leave until 8:30, which gave us a little extra time between the sheets. After I worshipped her through her blog read, she taunted my yearning cock a bit before allowing me to take my own pleasure, all while the cats hovered over us, somehow wanting into the action.

On the way to work, Mistress had her boots up on the dash as she surfed through the 30 emails that had accumulated overnight.  "Take a shot of those boots, Mistress.... I think our readers would be amused."

"Of course, Slave...."

They are pretty provocative, aren't they?

She snapped her photo, and soon she was dropping me off at my office, before heading to hers.

It was a busy day for both of us, and we ended up scheduling dinner with some friends who had been out of town for a while.  But I made sure to fall to my knees and worship Mistress as a little appetizer in the brief interval at home before heading to a local restaurant.

At dinner we caught up with our friends. and one of them surprised me with the comment ....

"So are you still on the Lam...."

Oh, shit. Had these folks, vanilla friends, found out about our blog, and it's alternative location?

My eyes widened, and I glanced sideways to Mistress with a big "WTF" in my expression.

But I was relieved when it became clear that she was referring to Mistress's recent citation for jaywalking, not our "On the Lam" blog.

The thought of our vanilla friends studying our contract and Mistress's lush body here is still a little scary.

OK folks, I've not exactly entertained and amused here today, but it's another early curtain call here ath the Worlds HQ. I better get upstairs quickly before my window of opportunity closes.