Mistress's Pump is Primed

Mistress and Slave woke up in a frisky mood yesterday, and at an unusually early time.  Are we still shifting back from Euro-time?  Hard to believe. Maybe we were both a little on edge about the start of the work week and the piled up plate we would face. Or was it the anticipation of Super Tuesday?  Kind of doubt that....

But at around 5 am, one or the other of us, sensing the other was awake, asked that same old question:

"Want to have sex...."

It's been a long time since either of us answered that question in the negative.

So it was still 6 am here, and Mistress had her first few cums of the day.

I dropped her off at her office for an early meeting, but we planned for me to drop by later for lunch. Her building has a nice little sandwich / salad shop, and Mistress made sure there was a private conference room for us to nosh in.  But there was a small apertif to take care of first.

This room has some smoky glass windows, at each side of the door, so presumably shadows of a cavorting randy couple might be visible from the public area outside. But you can slide a chair into a corner to minimize the risk that someone might stroll by and wonder why it looked like someone was kneeling inside.

Mistress had those lovely black peek-a-boo tights on under fetching and oh so powerful black boots. She settled back into her chair, spread her legs and Slave went to work.....

But.... wow..... it seemed that within no more than 30 seconds, Mistress was quaking and cuming against her Slave's devoted tongue.

I was a little stunned.... "Now that was a fast one Mistress.....had someone else primed the pump?"

She blushed a little, and mumbled a few explanations.....

"Well.... I knew that we probably didn't have much time for this Slave, so I guess I mentally prepared myself...."

That sounded a little bogus, but obviously being ready to go from 0 to 60 mph in 30 seconds does require a little mental preparation.

But as I probed a little deeper, it came out that one of her AM suitors had been trading some increasingly smutty text messages with her yesterday.... making Mistress squirm a bit at her desk, and probably building her level of anticipation to a level that made it quicker and easier for her Slave to administer the "coup de grace", not unlike the Matador in the Bull ring who counts on those guys with the pointy spears to soften up the angry bull.

My complements to yesterday's Picador!

It may take a village to keep Mistress fully satisfied, and I'm just lucky to be one of the Villagers.

Blogger Goes MIA / Mistress Gets Her Switch Back

Before elaborating on the events that led to the rather fetching shot of Mistress on your left I wanted to put out an MIA alert for a favorite blogger:  Does anyone know what happened to Riff Dog and his blog Ashley and Me?

Mistress has been perusing her options at AM over the last few weeks -- though she shut her profile down yesterday due to in box overload as she sorts through a short list of "persons of interest".

But she is still a little confused about how the system works. So we clicked over to Ashley and Me yesterday to look for some guidance from the irrepressible Riff Dog, who's combination of humour and daring could not help get us giggling as we poured over his increasingly rare posts.  Some times we actually thought that he was a clever PR shill for AM. Other times we became convinced that he really was an aging rock star / producer with cajones as big as a Malibu sunset.

But what did we find..... nada. The statement that this blog is no longer open to the public.

So tell us readers.... what happened to Riff Dog?  Did he move onto blogger heaven?  Did AM get an injunction?  If anyone knows, please fill us in, either in the comments section or via email to BigLove1963@gmail.com.

Now.... where were we....

Ahhh.... Switch Day.

Mistress had dodged that bullet for the last several weeks, primarily due to our travel schedule and the close quarters we shared with our daughter in Paris.  But yesterday morning there were no excuses.  Up early. Plenty of time before Mistress's spinning class.

She read the blog as I lavished those clean shaven folds with devotion, but when she put the lap top down, the quick and easy cum she has become used to was not in the cards for poor Mistress.

"Why'd you stop, Slave?"

"Remember what day it is, Mistress?"

She grumbled a bit, as  I affixed those red leather cuffs to her wrists, then locked her down, on her tummy, with her arms spread and attached to the corners of the bed.

It has been cold here the last few days, and Mistress had slept in those fetching peek-a-boo tights.  I used a soft rope to tie her ankles together.  That's when Mistress got a little squirmy, her liberty denied for the first time in several weeks.

Now was a time for Slave to make a choice.  Her bottom was so available, and so very spankable.  But she'd so far failed to administer the cropping she'd been threatening since we returned from Paris. I figured, why tempt fate and escalate?

So instead Mistress got a slow ans senuous massage, first with my hands, then using her favorite power tool, along the length of those lovely AM overloading legs, and up across her back and shoulders.  Mistress's squirms became increasingly pronounced as the business end of her Hiatchi drew ever closer to the vortex of her desires.  That musky scent was already filling the executive suite.

Yum.

Of course, ultimately I had to bring this little exercise to a head..... though it was tempting to let her languish a bit.  AS I slid the vibrating bulb between those bound legs, and let her hump it, she sighed with relief.

And then there was that long build up, as her leg and ass muscles flexed and contracted, her energy focused on building to that inevitible conclusion to our morning's exercise.

I love it when that whimpering voice begs, "may I come Slave...."

And of course, while I could have said no, one does have to consider what happens when the power to say no is on the other foot, so to speak.

"Of course, Mistress."

That triggered even more flexing of those lovely muscles along her legs and butt, until she tipped over the edge, thrusting and moaning, pulling against her bindings, until she was sobbing in relief, tears running down her cheeks.  That was my cue to hit the off switch, and cuddles next to my bound beauty.

"Intense, Slave.... very intense."

I let Mistress rest a bit and recover. Then she was unbound and rolled over, her legs spread, ready for her Slave to take his reward.

And of course, I was ready too.

Mistress Held Hostage!

It was a rather busy day here in River City for Mistress and her devoted Slave.

First, I was up at 4:30 am, to chauffeur the cute Co-Ed, and her Grandparents to the airport for spring break in the Caribbean. (These particular grandparents will splurge on first class airfare, but don't realize they actually having parking at the airport). I was home by about 6:30 am, but let Mistress sleep in a little longer. By the time I was given the "all clear" to rejoin her in the Executive Suite, I couldn't tell which of my primal needs required attention first -- sexual release, or a little more shuteye.

But knowing Mistress as you do, dear readers, I think you know what happened next. And after she was suitably pleasured and I had been given permission to cum, there was time enough for a little more sleep as Mistress waded back into the morass of her AM in-box.  It may be time to hide that profile and her hot-legs from the randy crowd there until she can complete interviewing her current list of finalists.

After a little more time in bed, we headed to our gym.  Mistress had spinning class, and I did the elliptical machine until my "dates" arrived: my daughter and two cute grandsons, who were coming to enjoy the compact indoor "water park" on one of the closer days of the winter here.

As we were splash splashing, Mistress came to kiss me goodbye, heading off to the dreaded local Apple store to deal with some strange problem with her email on her sleek and relatively new and paper thin laptop.

Of course, it was barely a week ago that Mistress and Slave had to navigate the Apple Store at Le Opera in Paris - an elegant, marble clad showplace that apparently is the pride of the Jobsian fleet these days. Not the cool moussiers in black lighting their Gallouses out front.  And the balcony and skylight inside.

In contrast our local Apple "salon" is a cramped, drop ceiling affair, stuffed into just another  midwestern mall hardly noted for its people watching. Usually it is packed with frustrated, confused and fashion challenged consumers, competing for the  attention from smug and geeky "Geniuses". (See photo below, like the shorts and sneakers look on a cold day?)


Because of my long standing mall allergy, I made some other plans-- doing a little maintenance work on our "dungeon" / rental property in the City. But as the afternoon progressed I received increasingly frustrated up-dates via cell phone from Mistress on the slow progress in "cleaning out" the mess caused when "mobile me" meets "the cloud". It actually sounds worse than the storm fronts that went through here yesterday.

It wasn't until about 5 hours later that Mistress finally got home, rejoining me in bed, where I was hoping for  a nap before our trip to the theatre last night.  Then she explained the strange events of her day.

"I was held hostage, Slave, by a retired cop who was flirting with me.... I'm convinced he kept dragging it out so I wouldn't leave."

"Was he cute, Mistress?"

"Hardly.... about my size, kind of pasty....are any genius's 'cute'?"

"Well I am never clear on your taste Mistress, as we've learned from the folks who do or do not make your AM cut...."

She explained how her genius concluded that somehow when another genius moved her data from one defective laptop to another a few weeks back, things got "confused", and her emails, photos, and contacts all began replicating like horny bunnies.  So somehow all that extra stuff had to be leached away to make things right again.... this took hours of his valuable  time, as he induced Mistress to hover over him, and attempted to entertain her with his snappy ex-cop patter.

"He kept telling me about folks he had busted, later coming on for Apple Care, and doing a double take when they learned that the undercover guy who bought pot from them was now their Genius."

"Oh, I bet those are fun stories...."

"At one point I asked whether it's true that marijuana is more expensive now than it used to be.... and he asked "how do you know what it used to cost, sweetie"...

"Great....and this is the guy who was spending the whole day sorting through your email accounts, photos and contacts?"

"Exactly.... sometime in all this he asked me what this "BigLove" email account was for...." (that's the account you can use to contact us here, dear UCTMW readers)

"And you said?"

"Oh I probably blushed, and mumbled something that made no sense. It was about that time  that he said... 'you've been gone so long, I bet your husband thinks you're having an affair'...."

"Did you tell him you have a contractual right to have affairs, Mistress?"

"NO.... I didn't want to give him any ideas, Slave."

Mistress ran some errands at the mall and had her nails done, continuing to check back with her ex-cop but without success. Finally she gave up, and arranged to pick up her lap-top later today.  I wonder if he'll be back on duty to offer further "services".

"So all the geniuses may be back there at the store nownow, grazing through your photos and emails, Mistress?  I wonder if there is a genius code of ethics we can rely on?"

And since there may well be a few stray and self-replicating photos of the WC's special occasion cock in there, let's hope we've not given a crop of geniuses deep  feelings of their own inadequacy this weekend.

Dispatch from Our Senior Correspondent: On Disconnecting

Slave had to be up very early this AM to haul our Cute Co-ed and her grandmother to the airport. It's spring break, and she's hitched a ride for a family get-away to the Caribbean.  So I asked Donna to pitch in to cover today's blog.

But there was a little action here  last night which I will briefly share: we had arranged to meet a friend at our little in city home, which is between tenants right now. It actually would make a great dungeon / play space, a subject we have discussed on prior occasions here. But as we were arriving, having left work a little early, the local media went into a "Storm-a-geddon" frenzy, with the prospect of thunderstorms and even a tornado.  Our friend canceled on us, fearful, apparently, that some vengeful old testament god must have determined that our innocent rendezvous was verbotten (or however you say that in Hebrew).

This left Mistress and Slave with time on their hands, in our now unfurnished home.... with a bottle of wine and our laptops. Could be trouble, right?  


Fortunately there was a rug on a floor.... and Mistress had on those delightful peek-a-boo tights.  Need I say more? Now, here's Donna's piece....

I had a rather serious talk with Lee recently. As far as I know, he was unaware that his spouse, Linda, had talked to me about the same topic just a few weeks ago.

Bill and I have known this couple for about 15 years, having met them through mutual BDSM friends. The couple is in their early 50s, with three teenagers, one in college and two in high school, a family dog and a case of the sexual doldrums. They love each other deeply but, for all intents and purposes, their sex life has ground to a halt. Well, not a complete halt, they still have OSR, Obligatory Sexual Relations on their anniversary, Valentine's Day, Christmas and birthdays, but linking up is rare other than those times.

For any couple that would seem wrong, but for many years Lee and Linda were hip deep into the BDSM dungeon scene, they were movers and shakers of the kinky kind, and they both enjoyed wearing leather and riding his Harley. When their kids were young they would leave them with the grandparents for a weekend every now and then and escape on the Harley for a romantic camping trip, and these lovers were once adamant about the importance of their date nights. So what happened?

Life and technology, that's what happened. Their careers took off. The kids signed up to be involved in everything they (or their friends) thought might be fun, resulting in every evening, weekend and holiday being filled with not only homework, but athletic events, music lessons, scouts, dancing, bike racing, choir and a ton of school organizations.

And, as time passed, both Lee and Linda became attached by an invisible umbilical cord to work, to the kids. to friends and relatives through their Smartphones and laptops, which are never, ever turned off. In essence, though they are sometime the only two humans in the room, they are never alone. Their privacy and their ability to disconnect from everything else and focus only on one another is gone.

Lee asked whether I thought things would ever get back to where they had been years earlier. My answer was this: things are going to be better than they have ever been before. You need to hang in there, you may need to make a few adjustments for the good of the kids, but things are going to be great! And I really think they will.

I told him that the old stories about sexual urges declining in women as we age was a load of bull, probably written by cloistered men who believed that sex was only for making babies! Women orgasm harder and more often, and enjoy sex more, not less, as we mature. As I aged and our kids grew up, the world of sex became a bigger, brighter place with flashing lights spelling out the words CUM and ENJOY! Or it may have been ENJOY CUMMING!, but you get the point.

Since Lee clearly wanted a faster solution, I suggested considering some changes for the kids. How about allowing them to grow up a bit? I suggested he let them do their own homework and school projects without their parents looking over their shoulders. They're in high school for Pete's Sake. Once the kids have that idea under their belts, teach them not to call all the time. Certainly there are circumstances when  parents want to be sure the kids can reach them, but if the kids are home (supposedly) doing homework, they don't need to call repeatedly. Sit outside on the porch swing with each other, maybe even holding hands and playing kissy face and groping each other a bit while the kids do their homework!

The next step is to dress up and go out to an adult dinner together and tell the kids they may only call if it's an absolute emergency, and you may need to define emergency. Once they get the idea that they don't have to call every half hour, reinstate the date nights on a regular basis. Maybe you could visit a dungeon and work up to spending some time there.

The next idea was that they let their bedroom become a sexy place again, that they close and lock their bedroom door at night to allow the adults to be spontaneous during the night. I also suggested they go shopping together to buy some new sex toys and sexy lingerie and keep them in the nightstand drawer or in some easy to access rolling boxes under the bed. If the teens find the toys and cop an attitude, the response is, "Just what were you doing in my room without my permission?" End of story. Don't engage them. Adults have a right to privacy and personal possessions, and don't have to answer to the kids.

And finally, my last suggestion was about work. There are career choices that require people be on call, physicians, tow truck companies, Secret Service, funeral homes, lawyers, etc., but in many cases it has become a bad habit to take care of business during non-business hours. Disconnect. Let fellow people at work know you are disconnecting for a romantic dinner or a lover's get-away with the person who means the world to you. It doesn't have to be expensive to be meaningful, and maybe it will plant some ideas with others at work, too. At some point it might even expand to meals without phones ringing, imagine that.

Eventually the kids will be on their own and my friends will be back to more regular participation at the dungeons, will have ramped up their kink and it will be unusual when they don't have sex one day rather than when they do. They are great people and deserve to be happy sexually as part of their everyday lives.

Hugs,
Donna


Oh, and on the subject of phones, please, please don't take your phone into the bathroom with you. Really, I can wait until you are finished. There is nothing I have to say or need to hear you say that won't wait until you finish business and wash and dry your hands. Honest.