Hanging Around

Hello UCTMW Folks,

No peek-a-boo tights today, and no beautiful boots or kinky sex in River City. You have entered the Twilight Zone of the lives of a Dom and his submissive living in a log cabin deep in the woods of Western North Carolina. Here's a picture of where we live. Takes your breath away, doesn't it?


Say, have you noticed that lots of BDSM people tend to be fairly serious about exercise? I wonder if that's because we see and touch each others bodies all the time? Or maybe it has to do with sexual stamina. And while it isn't a truth for all of us, Molly and Mick are out there bicycling on a regular basis, they belong to a gym and Molly does those aerobic spin classes where people seem to enjoy racing on bikes going no where while loud music plays.

I tend to side with astronaut Buzz Aldrin, of Apollo Eagle moon landing fame, who said,"I believe that every human has a finite number of heart-beats. I don't intend to waste any of mine running around doing exercises."


My beloved Bill doesn't agree with that viewpoint and attends the local gym several times a week. And, of course, the fact that Bill belongs to a gym doesn't mean we don't have a fair amount of exercise equipment around the house, although it quite clearly falls into the His and Hers categories. Bill was a championship rower as a younger man, so he has a rowing machine in his library, plus all the equipment for his mountain bike riding that is kept in the garage. In our bedroom he keeps one of those rolling tummy scrunching things, free weights and those push-up grips for his early morning sit-up and push-up routine.

I, on the other hand, have brightly colored stretch bands, a yoga mat and a lovely meditation cushion. I also have something we have both recently come to enjoy, my inversion table. While originally suggested by my orthopedist who presented it as a way to increase vertebral space, I am a firm believer in finding your kinky toys and tools wherever you can, and just yesterday, this became the newest kinky addition to our household.



So yesterday, while I was hanging upside down on the thing, stretching out my spine and doing my best impression of Bat Woman, Bill wandered into the room. I suddenly had a brainstorm, perhaps from increased blood flow to the brain, and asked him whether he thought, if tipped at just the right angle, I would be able to apply my lips and tongue to a certain sensitive part of his anatomy.

I didn't hear him answer, but instead hear the sound of his zipper being lowered and felt the motion of the table slowly being repositioned from almost straight up and down to one where all I had to do was turn my head a bit to bring him into mouth reach. Perfect! And as I proceeded with that favorite activity, that thing I do so well, Bill leaned forward, used his teeth to lift my shirt to suck and nibble on my nipples. Reaching forward with his arms, he unzipped my jeans, and inched his free hand between my panties and my flesh. He knows exactly how to light my fire and wasted no time getting my juices flowing. In no time at all we were both breathing hard and fast and felt it to be quite a worthwhile expenditure of heartbeats! Wonder if Buzz would think so?

Now he is wondering whether it might be possible to put me face down on the table for a short time, presenting a perfect target of butt and back for a bit of flogging and paddling, nothing long-term mind you, but just for an exciting change of pace. I'll have to let you know how that goes.

Oh, and I have orders that from now on I will be naked when using this piece of equipment.

Senior Correspondent,
Donna

Adieu

Mistress and Slave will be off this evening to visit our sullen teen for a week.  And as seems routine in our lives, just as try to escape for a few days off the temperature at work has risen considerably for both of us. That left little time for hijinks yesterday - other than some nice wake up sex in our executive suite.

Mistress picked me up at my office a little later than normal after work, running late for her spinning class at the gym. So I dropped her at the door, did my own work-out and we hooked up again after we were done with our routines.  Mistress looked fetching, and a little flushed, her black tights now off, with black boots over bare legs, and her make-up gone.

"So how was your class, Mistress?"

(We've recently changed gyms, and we are adjusting to the new routines and crowd).

"Actually good, Slave.... the spin leader was a guy, and pretty damed hot if I do say so...."

"Ohhh?... tell me more...."

"early 50's .... tall.... athletic obviously.... and some great music...."

"You may have to find out what his nights are Mistress....."

"I may.... he actually looks a little like Dave ==== (the mountain climber from out West that Mistress fancies)."

"Well while you're plotting to get the real thing, no reason not to practice with a reasonable facsimile".

By now we were heading home, where there was more packing and work to be done.

"I'm not sure how one hits on a spinning instructor, Slave...."

"Well you can always ask if he ever does any, 'personal training'...."

"I suppose...."

"Or there is the old, 'thigh cramp' ploy...."

"So obvious....."

"Sometimes the obvious has it's charm, Mistress....."

At least Mistress will have something to look forward to when she gets back.

While we are gone, Donna, our Senior Correspondent will be keeping the lights on here at UCTMW.  And if we get adequate privacy and wifi, I may try to post some tidbits.  But we do plan to take some time off from blogging and enjoy the City of Light with our long lost teen, who we've not seen since August.

But feel free to pass on any restaurant and sightseeing tips. If we can break away, maybe we can even go shopping for some kinky lingerie for Mistress.  This has a certain charm:

 And for our readers "across the pond" keep your eyes pealed for Mistress and Slave on their European adventure.

HNT / More on Presidential Kissing

Mistress and Slave were back in a more salacious groove yesterday. Of course, there was ample time for some toasty morning sex, and I didn't even have to resort to my JFK accent to get any action. (Believe me, it's worked on occasion. )

And after work, there was no big rush to make dinner, so Slave requested a worship opportunity, made all the more convenient by the access provided by Mistress's peek-a-boo tights.  Mistress even indulged her Slave's request to duck her after my lips and tongue had given her a gratifying starter cum as she laid back across our bed.

When the dust finally settled, I took a few photos of her, and am mixing in some from a week or so ago.  I must say I relish those lovely curves and shapes that her body forms as she lies across our bed in the UCTMW Executive suite.  The possibilities seem endless.

Now back to some of the comments yesterday on JFK, his young intern, Mimi Alford,  and the absence of kissing in that "relationship".  Many of you commented that the absence if kissing would be a death knell for a come on, even from the "World's Most Powerful Leader". (Presuming that power is in direct proportion to the nuclear arsenal at your disposal, I suppose).

And I would certainly agree with that take: I can't imagine a sexual liaison that does not begin with a kiss.

As one of you commented, the absence of a kiss prior to sex is more in the nature of the relationship between a hooker and her "John".  But here, it was JFK who apparently avoided the kissing -- in this analogy was he the Prostitute, and was the intern is customer?  No that was not the power dynamic.

Mistress and I talked a little more about it last night as she added details to the story from the book as she read it on her kindle.

"So at this point Slave.... JFK asks her to give his buddy Dave Powers a blow job next to the White House pool, because he'd had a stressful day...."

"And does she do it...?"

 I'm thinking no, she rebels, draws a line. Not some 19 year old prep school girl from a "good family going down on her 45 year old lover's crony. (the guy with JFK in the hat).

"She does it, Slave...."

Uggh. I'm kind of disappointed in her.  You can see the fascination with JFK.... but his Irish drinking buddy?  Then it dawned on me....

"Maybe this was a primitive D/s relationship, Mistress.... with her getting off on being humiliated by her dominant lover.... forced not only to do the sex acts that he demanded from her.... but also to service a friend in his presence for his pleasure".

Love to hear what our submissive female readers react to this theory.

What, No Kissing?

Mistress and Slave had a rather laid back Valentine's Day. No high falutin' date night like the First couple had in DC? (Did anyone see the President's public warning to America's males yesterday to look at the calendar and not forget what day it was?  Clever.)

No  four way, as  was brewing over at All Mine.  (Damn, those folks sure have fun).

No, we had some satisfying comfort sex in the morning, went to work, and hit our gym at the end of the day. Mistress spun. I did the elliptical and watched the news.  At home I whipped up some tasty stir-fry, and we caught up on the most recent episode of Californication.

(I should add that Mistress got a little extra V-Day treat once we were done worshipping and fucking before work.... there were a few minutes left before it was time to hit the shower, so she got a bonus orgasm courtesy of her favorite power tool.   It's always nice to have a powered assist at those moments when the human body needs just a little more.)

We figured we would have that fancy celebratory meal on our last night in Europe next week, when the sullen teen is back with her host family. And after all, everyday is Valentine's Day here at UCTMW, isn't it?

But when our show was over, and we adjourned to the executive suite here at the UCTMW World HQ, I did make sure that Mistress had a suitable opportunity for worship before we settled into bed with our books.  Those clean shaven folds were mighty succulent last night.

Oddly, we were both reading books about JFK, the hero of my Irish Catholic youth, who died when I in 8th grade, just having turned 13. For those of us in that generation, the Carole King line "something inside me died" is not too dramatic  to describe the events of November, 1963.

I'm reading this long Steven King novel imagining a school teacher from Maine in 2011 traveling back through some convoluted hole in time to prevent the assassination.

Mistress is reading the recently published memoir of Mimi Alford, who (credibly) claims that she had an affair with JFK while a White House intern at the age of 19, that extended to the week of his death. The book describes the loss of her virginity in Jackie's bedroom (raising the question of why Jackie had her own bedroom), and has lots of other colorful and credible details.  There have been a many articles on her book of late, including this one from Sunday's Times, where she describes the White House in those days as more like "Mad Men" than "Camelot".

So we are laying there side by side, deep into the 60's, and Mistress is sharing random, colorful details.

"She says they took baths together, Slave...."

"I saw that in an interview she did..... they had rubber duck races...."

Bizarre, right?

"And she says his favorite song back then was that one from "How to Succeed in Business...."

Somehow I knew which one, whipped out my laptop and found it on You-Tube.... here it is.

I Believe in You

I can imagine JFK looking at himself in the mirror, admiring his own "grin of impetuous youth", when deciding whether to press the red button during the Cuban Missile Crisis, all the while humming this song. Scary.... the narcissist's theme song. But maybe you need that degree of confidence to do that job.

On the Cuban missile crisis.... "She says he called her back from Wheaton College to be there in the White House that week.... a limo picked her up....."

"Wonder if she had a reserved spot in the bunker if things went south?"

The intern's adventures with JFK are not particularly shocking to either of us. I suspect Mistress would have done it too, at the first drop of hearing him say her name with that Boston accent.  But at 19.... right between the ages of our two daughters.   Disturbing.  But those were different times. Before "sexual harassment, and a nosey press corps.



But here's the detail we fixated on.

"She says they never really kissed."

Huh?

How do you have an extended affair ... spend the night.... stare down Nikita Kruschev together, with your rubbie duckies at your side....without kissing?

Mistress and I discussed that....

"Kissing's important Slave.... Not sure I could last with someone who isn't a good kisser."

"So how do I rank...."

"You're a good kisser, Slave...."

I thought back to our first tentative kiss.... it definitely got better from there. And for the record, Mistress was at least 25 by then. I was an "ancient" 38.

We also ran through a few other folks she's engaged these last few years....some showed promise, others were avoiders.  And the kiss avoiders did not go the distance with Mistress.

So what's your take dear readers..... why no kissing between JFK and the intern? And where does kissing rank on your deal makers or killers?