Super Tuesday Goes Into OT in River City

It was election day here in River City yesterday, and an early morning appointment and our need to vote before work made it impossible  for Mistress and Slave to have their typical wake up booty call.

It left poor Slave a little on edge and horny for the rest of the day, something I whined about to Mistress via text message.

"Awwww.... poor Slave.... suck it up", was the tone of her less than sympathetic response.

Adding to my frustration, Mistress had an evening appointment downtown, that meant we would not head home until after 8 pm. I had plenty of work to do. But the fact that she stopped by my office to toy with my increasingly hungry cock made it all the more frustrating.

"Boy,  that is hard down there, Slave.  But I wouldn't want to muss my lipstick with a quick blow job, no matter how desperate you are."

Finally, at home at around 9 pm, Slave was given some relief.  But Mistress insisted I insert my device - the Aneros, to assure she had the extra hard cock that pleases her so.  I made sure that she had a nice starter cum courtesy of my lips and tongue before persuading her that it was time for me to take my long delayed reward.


Ahhhh.  After she had granted me permission to cum, I returned the favor with a little assist from her favorite power tool. It was a special dessert for her generosity.

After the important events of the evening had concluded, I switched on the TV to monitor the primary returns. I was pulling for the crazy GOP candidate, rather than the smug and well funded one, if only to extend this bloodletting into the spring.  But by our typical "lights out" time, the results were still "too close to call". 

I had a feeling where this was heading, but when I happened to wake up at around 3 am, I was unable to resist the urge to confirm my suspicions. Flipping open the laptop, I verified that the guy who carries his dog on the roof of the car had slipped by the guy in the doggy sweater in the last batch of returns.

Dang.

By now Mistress was awake and we discussed the results. But that discussion some how morfed into Slave sucking on the nearest lovely nipple. And, as you might expect, one thing led to another in the executive suite.

Somehow I think Slave got luckier after those Ohio results came in than Rick, Newt or Mitt did.

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.