Our St. Patrick's Day Festivities

Mistress and Slave had a very busy   St. Patrick's Day.

Of course, there was the luxuriant wake up sex, a little earlier than normal for a Saturday morning, because Mistress had arranged to go on a little shopping trip with J to a place that makes her Slave's skin crawl: COSTCO.  It seems they both like stocking up there, a little fringe benefit in bringing J into Mistress's life that she hadn't thought to put in her AM profile.

(For some reason they don't have a box to check after "handcuff play" or "spanking" for "Saturday morning trips to COSTCO" in the "kinks I enjoy" list).

So while Slave hunkered down to assemble all of our tax information, and then visited my grouchy Mother,  Mistress and J were pushing their carts through COSTCO, and then sharing a late breakfast at a local cafe.

I headed home at around 1 pm, and figured I might have to give Mistress a heads up. No point embarrassing    J when the doting hubby comes home, in the event their shopping trip deteriorated to a little hanky panky after unloading a years supply of laundry detergent or moisturizer.

But my warning text message and phone call went unanswered.

Hmmm.

I pulled into the drive, noting that their cars were both here.  I figured I better make some noise, promulgating a hearty "Hello Boys and Girls" as I walked up the stairs from the basement to our ground floor. 

Fortunately, Mistress acknowledged me, and as I turned into our family room I saw her there, not so discretly refastening her lacy black bra.

"We were just fooling around a little until you got home, Slave...."

Poor J, he seemed a little sheepish as he was reassembling his own Saturday shopping trip attire. I suddenly had a sense of how my Dad must have felt  when he unexpectedly barged into a hot make-out session involving me and a high school girl friend.  But I expect J will ultimately get a better sense of comfort with this admittedly unusual relationship.

He was headed home, and Mistress and Slave headed out for a bike ride in the 70-ish sunshine. When we got back to the executive suite, the plan was for some late afternoon sex.  But Mistress had some bells and whistles in mind.

She had me strip, assemble her "supplies" (her harness and strap-on) and "assume your position" on our bed, my bony, 60 yr. old ass on full display.

As I looked around, I noted with some trepidation that she had her riding crop in hand. 

"This is a little pre-emptive punishment, Slave.... I want to make sure you understand that you will be well behaved tonight...."

I sure respect those of you out there, Aisha and Donna come to mind, who seem to relish, even long for,  a  firm paddling or spanking. I for one think it hurts like hell, and its unlikely I will ever get used to the harsh sting of Mistress's crop on my bottom.... though I suppose it does have a certain compelling effect on my psyche once that initial sting fades.

So I squirmed and whined and begged for mercy as Mistress made sure I got the full treatment with her crop. It certainly focused my mind on being a "good Slave" for the rest of the evening.

And, in contrast, the nice ass fucking that followed, until Mistress came with a compelling moan and shudder, was a 'walk in the park". Luckily, Slave was rewarded with the opportunity to take my pleasure from Mistress afterwords, and then we snuggled into a nice late afternoon nap.

But soon it was time to get ready for our evening's activities.

I suppose I have Suzanne over at All Mine to thank for her emailed reminder to Mistress that her Slave should be in his cock cage for his night out on the town with the a bunch of tuxedoed Irishmen...... Gee, thanks there Suzanne!

Mistress thought I was cute in my cage and Tux shirt as we both dressed for our nights out, and took the photo above to share with our devoted readers.

As I popped in my studs, and fastened my bow tie, Mistress was primping for her date night with J. She had made clear that their plans did not include much more than some marathon love making, with a little cheese and wine to keep them going.  So it made sense that her ensemble was a frilly, matching set of undies and semi-transparent top, covered by some jeans and a loose wrap sweater.  I got a picture of that too.

It was clear she was excited about a chance for her first "sleepover" with J, though I do think she felt a little guilty about leaving her Slave all alone for the night.

"It will be fine Mistress. I'll be getting home at around midnight, and will be ready to crash by then."

As the evening progressed, we did trade a few texts, touching base. I sent her a photo of the Irish flag suspended from the grand hall where our banquet unfolded with all its bluster and pretension, the Guiness and Bushmill's flowing, and the glee club leading the crowd in the 'Soldier's Song."

But as promised, I was pulling into our drive at around 11:30 pm. AS I was lossenig my tie, my phone rang. It was Mistress.

"Hi Slave.... believe it or not, I'm in the parking lot at Kroger.... I came with J .... he needed to make a condom run....."

Oops.  I guess J was never a boy scout. He was clearly unprepared for Mistress's appetite for his cock.

"Don't they sell those by the gross at COSTCO, Mistress?"

But, despite the poor planning it sounds like Mistress's date night went about as planned. Mistress says she will be home by around 10:30 am this morning, and since I'm still in this infernal steel cage, it will not be a moment too soon.

Sleeping in the cage apparently is one rather uncomfortable way to become aware of my natural nocturnal rhythms: starting at around 3:20 am, and at about twenty minutes after the hour thereafter, I was awakened by the sharp pain of my cock and balls unconsciously swelling against that cruel barrier. 

Ouch.

When I did a little whining via text a little while ago, maybe with the hope that she would mercifully disclose the location of the key, this is the response I got:

"Good morning Slave.
Your Mistress will be home in a few hours.
Stay Caged!
I love you.
Your Mistress."

I love her too. And can't wait until she's home!

Dispatch From Our Senior Correspondent: Controlled Burn

After we got home from the big city yesterday afternoon, I rested a bit and then began reading some short stories that had been sent to me for review. Wow! I really think these stories would fall into the porn genre rather than erotic. Being the dedicated reader I am, I didn't let that slow me down one little bit, and, in fact, they charged my batteries.

I finished a couple of stories with interesting names like Pound it Home and Gangbanged at the Office, and went searching for Bill. I asked quite seductively, I thought, if he might be interested in making love. He got quiet and stared at me, and I knew his answer would be no. I moved next to him on the couch, snuggled in so his arm was draped over my barely covered breasts, blew in his ear, rubbed his tenting shorts and was all ready to see him get his sexy grin going on. Instead, he gave me a non-sexy quick kiss and said I was already overtired.

Being rather determined, I begged and said I was really, really horny. That was about when he remarked that I was adding swats to the swat count by being obstinate. I asked if it would be acceptable for me to do some “one handed reading”, maybe with the Hitachi in the other hand.

He gave a deep sign and then a sideways kind of nod, and said that if I thought I could handle it, to go ahead.

I got everything ready, feeling quite the modern woman with a Kindle in one hand and Hitachi in the other. It didn’t go as quickly as I had hoped and I wasn’t making much progress toward an orgasm. Disappointed, I turned off the Hitachi, gave it a toss and just kept reading. In a few minutes, Bill opened the door and came in to stand beside the bed. He took a look at the tossed aside Hitachi, shook his head a bit, took his tee shirt off over his head (Have I mentioned that he has been working out?) and tossed it to the floor as he dropped his shorts. Then he leaned over and pinched my nipples, hard.

I tried to get him to come onto the bed with me, I offered my butt for spanking and my pussy or mouth for whatever might please him. He said the answer was still “no”. as far as a major energy expenditure was concerned, but one good cum might help me rest. I tried not to waggle my eyebrows.

He handed me a lubed up pocket rocket and motioned for me to take care of myself. As he stood beside the bed, he began to beat the breast and nipple closest to him with his hard penis. I tried to reposition so I could lick him, I tried to move my arm so I could massage his balls, but instead, he stopped everything! He even reached over to hold my hand controlling the pocket rocket still. Then he looked at me and said, “Do you want this, or not?” Oops.

Aggravating the Dom might not be in my own best interest. After my answer of, “Yes, Sir,” we both continued and within a short time we were both cumming beautifully. He shot all over my chest, shoulder, neck and a bit landed on my chin and lips. Yum!

He told me to stay put and returned in a couple of minutes with a soft, warm washcloth to clean me. I gave him a very sincere thank-you, and he quirked an eyebrow, handed me my Kindle and left the room. Just as he walked out the door he said, " Oh, that will be another five swats for trying to push me." Oh, good..er, bad!

Sometimes there is a difference in what we need and what is good for us. And sometimes we just have to do those things that remind us that we are passionately alive. I know I’ve said it before, but I am so lucky to have this guy in my life who understands that concept. And he says he is equally lucky with what I bring to the dance that is our life together. So it’s all cool.

Sated and smiling,

Donna

Weekend Planning

Mistress and Slave are readjusting their schedules these days to accommodate the addition of an additional cock for Mistress to cavort with.  And since she has a busy work day, it isn't always easy.

I left all of you hanging a bit in yesterday's post..... yes, Mistress and J headed up to the Executive Suite as I was cleaning up the dinner dishes Wednesday evening.  AS they tended to their business, I hunkered down with Rachel Maddow and the rest of the MSNBC lineup, and took care of some work emails.  At some point I may have drifted off on our couch, to be woken at around 11 pm when Mistress and J came drifting downstairs. He was dressed, ready to head home. She was in a short black robe, her full, long dark hair disheveled, and a goofy "well fucked" grin on her face.

After Mistress kissed her new lover goodnight in the doorway, she and I adjourned to the bedroom. Frankly, Slave was a little sleepy, and had no plans to give Mistress a round two. Though I was anxious to feed on those clean shaven folds, if only to satisfy my curiosity about the added flavor to her typically seductive bouquet.

But after I had suckled Mistress to another of what surely was quite a few "Hump Day" cums, she had something else in mind.

I want my cock now, Slave.....

And of course, what Mistress wants is what she gets.

Yesterday, Mistress had an after work meeting not far from J's workplace. So it came as no surprise to me when I heard from her that she was meeting him for a little nosh (no hanky panky she claims), before she came home for dinner with me..... and also some hot sex in the Executive Suite afterwords.

This weekend, Slave has the annual all males in tuxedos event celebrating the guy who drove the snakes from the Emerald Isle. And although I suppose I could invite J to join for for a little male bonding over Guiness and Jamieson, Mistress has other plans for him:  old fashioned Saturday date night.

"He asked if he can take me out to dinner, Slave."

"And what did you say?"

"I told him I'd much rather spend the night in bed, maybe eating a little cheese and drinking a little wine when we come up for air...."

"And what was his response?"

"He clearly wasn't going to argue over that plan, Slave."

HNT/ End of Tights Season?

We've had a strange few weather days in River City... sunny, balmy, in the 70's.  Mistress has prematurely abandoned her black tights (with and without apertures) and has gone for the boots and bare legs look, as shown by this peek of her on the way home from work this evening.

She was anxious to get home for a couple of reasons:  to go for an after work bike ride in this glorious weather, and because her new FWB was coming over for dinner.

I do feel a little sorry for J.  It's clear he enjoys Mistress's seductive company.

Who wouldn't? (well Maybe not Mitt or Ricky Santorum....but they are clearly outliers.)

But I am sure he's also confused about a guy who would willingly let his wife cavort in this way.

SO while he actually did show for dinner this evening, I could tell as I prepared dinner and he and Mistress sat on the couch, holding hands and watching Chris Matthews, that he was a little nervous.

Before he arrived, Mistress was prepping her self in a very seductive fashion. short, casual black dress.


And, "No underwear, Slave....is that bad....."

"No, Mistress, that's just an evening home, au natural."

As we cleaned up after the bike ride, Mistress offered to let me worship.

"But wouldn't it be better to let you simmer, Mistress..... I'm wondering if you can get J to overcome his reluctance to take you here at our house, with your devoted husband at home....a little latent horny may give you a little extra incentive...."

As it turned out, we had a nice dinner... some grilled salmon, roasted potatoes and sauteed green beans.   Hopefully a little wine relaxed all of us. And as I cleaned up afterwords, Mistress asked to have a word with me.

"You really don't mind if J and I adjourn to the bedroom, Slave?"

"Go for it Mistress....."

And so they did.