Slacker Reports for Duty

Our Senior Correspondent, who has been "free lancing" in parts unknown of late, surprised me with the following post over the weekend.  Maybe she's finally thinking about that lush year end bonus!

 

Well, it seems this Senior Correspondent for UCTMW has been slacking a bit. Okay, I’ve been slacking a great deal with the blog lately, but I’ve been keeping busy with a few other things.

I have been working with Claire Thompson, doing both beta and editing work on her latest book, The Story of Owen: One Man’s Submissive Journey, which was just released last week. You can read both the blurb and an excerpt at Claire’s website, if you like:  http://www.clairethompson.net/thestoryofowen.php .

To give you a hint, it’s the story of a man who has lived a vanilla existence, always knowing he needed something more – something different, but not able to pursue it. When Owen reaches the point he is ready to explore his submissive side, a friend gives him the business card of a Professional  Dominatrix and all kinds of things unfold from there. 

While this book has something to make every kinkster’s heart go pitter-pat, for those into sado-masochism I’ll share that one section I particularly enjoyed has predicament bondage with a cock and ball pillory. I also liked the bondage and flogging, but you may already know that’s a personal favorite for me.  

A unique thing about Claire is that she actually lives the lifestyle. She has been part of the BDSM community for many years and knows what she’s writing about. The book is erotic fiction, of course, but Claire keeps things in the realm of reality. Speaking of realism, see the headboard on the cover there? That is the very same style headboard Bill and I have on our bed. That, used in conjunction with the matching foot board, is perfect for handcuffing and bondage and all kinds of fun!

While I may be a slacker with the blog, I am never a lazybones when it comes to our sex life. One morning  last week I was getting ready to ask Bill about an interesting anal toy I had spotted on-line, but just then he decided there was something more important I could do with my mouth. He doesn’t like me to talk with my mouth full, especially when it’s filled with his cock or balls, so first I bestowing loving attention, licks, slurps and good morning kisses to his balls and moved on to licking and sucking on his cock with enough enthusiasm to bring him to the point of making all those beautiful, deep, male cumming noises. Then we talked about the toy pictured here.

It’s the Vibrating Anal Cone from Blush Novelties. See how it has that corkscrew look to it? I was thinking that on those days when you just know you’re going to get screwed over at work, you could wear one of these and know that at least part of the screwing you were getting was of your own choosing.  And it’s available at Amazon. Who knew?

Donna
Senior Correspondent

Nirvana in the Executive Suite

For a couple addicted to both sex and politics it really couldn't get much better than yesterday morning here at the UCTMW World HQ.

We woke to the big political news of the day, mining the internet, twitter and facebook for all the gossip of the new VP candidate on the GOP side. Picking the  Wisconsin wunderkind best known for his cutmageddon budget plan had the Republican faithful in the type of  fawning tizzy not seen since Bob Dole picked Jack Kemp to put a little juice in his campaign in 1996.

Even J got into the act, texting with both of us about the big news, and pointing out Ryan's uncanny resemblance to this 60's era TV star:

Actually, I think we were all a little sad that J wasn't there to join the fun.  Mistress reported that  J was pining for her to spend the night on Friday, when she dragged herself out of bed at about 10:15 pm, making sure she got home before the kids and I returned from the football game. It would have been a little hard to explain why Mom was out so late on a Friday night if we had arrived home to any empty house. Indeed, I made sure we stayed a little longer into garbage time in the 4th quarter to assure there would be no "hard to explain" questions asked if we got home to a missing Mom.

As the moment for the big Ryan roll-out approached on Saturday morning, we realized the window for wake-up sex would be closing soon, so the computers were tucked away, and Slave got down to worshiping those clean shaven folds that had seen plenty of action the evening before over at J's love shack.

"My back's a little sore, Slave, so go easy on me....."

"Too much cock riding?"

"Could be....."

Awww.... poor Mistress.

After we both enjoyed the fruits of our Saturday morning engagement, it was back to the TV . The ponderous musical selection seemed to spring from the golden trumpet of the Angel Moroni himself.  Someone tweeted that it was actually the theme from that old movie "Air Force One."  Sadly, Harrison Ford was not in the house to make the whole enterprise look "presidential".

We were amused when, in his effort to show enthusiasm, the former Massachusetts Governor and personal savior of the Olympic movement (with plenty of our tax dollars) introduced his newly anointed running mate as "the next President of the United States...."

"Is he already throwing in the towel .... and launching Ryan's 2016 campaign?"

But once the actual bloviating began, we'd had enough. We were off on a nice morning bikeride, after which Mistress took the girls on a "back to college" shopping binge. Slave had his work cut out restaining and sealing our deck.  Every now and then I have to switch to field slave duties.

It wasn't until around 4 pm that we were able to reunite in the Executive Suite. Luckily, both girls had plans and we had no schedule. We settled in for a long late afternoon nap, followed by some more worship and fucking, with no political news to distract us.

Nice. Very nice.

Later we took dinner at a new hipster Taco joint in an old city neighborhood , with a southwest ambiance that will be the closest thing to our mountain hideaway we will see this month. We had hoped J could join us, but he got sucked into helping his parents move this weekend.  But that did get us into some "cuckold / threeway" protocol issues.

"J says he let slip to his Mom that he's  seeing "someone", and now his Mom says he should bring that "someone" over to meet them, Slave...."

Dinner with the boyfriend's parents? Now that would be interesting.

"That's OK by me, Mistress....."

"The problem is, how to explain all this.... he says they are pretty conservative and might not get the 'she's married but it's ok with her husband' thing....."

"Ahhhh..... that could be a little dicey....."

"J says his Mom would immediately start asking all sorts of questions.... and it is a small town....."

Yes, it is. Too many connections that cam easily be made. As our kids would say.... "awkward."

Somehow J will have to finesse this for a while with Mom and Dad.  Do any of our readers have any tips on how to deal with this delicate issue of social protocol? Is there a potential kinky version of  "Meet the Parents" in all this?

Should I send a letter to Dear Abby? Or Miss Manners?

Football Widow?

Last night I took our sullen teen and cute Co-Ed to the first pre-season football game of the year here in River City.  Our pussycats looked like predatory jungle cats for a change, feasting on the Big Apple's second best team, and adding fuel to their budding QB controversy.

In the meanwhile, Mistress was spending the evening with her Lover, J. Plans for a bike ride gave way to an evening at a local bar, where apparently a woman who proclaimed she was "straight" was fawning over Mistress.

"Was she pining for a three way, Mistress?"

"That's what J said, Slave .... but we didn't take her up on it...."

No, instead it seemed they headed home for enough sexual action that Mistress came home with a sore back.

Poor Mistress.

In any event, it seemed that J was a little regretful he didn't join us at the football game. 

"He sort of asked if he could join you for some games later this season, Slave.... "

But what will Mistress do on Sundays this season if both of her "penii" are at the Stadium rather than in bed with her?

I had an idea.

"I suppose you could go back to Ashley Madison with a new posting....something like "Domme available Sunday afternoons during NFL season".... I suspect you might draw some attention...."

"I think for now the two of you will keep me satisfied Slave....but don't press your luck."

Dad Behaving Badly

It was lovely to have Mistress back in the UCTMW executive suite last night after her Wednesday night sleepover with J. After one of those night's apart it seems like a little "re-union" when we settle back in bed together.

In the morning, I had woken early, went for a bike ride and texted her at around 7:45 am  to "report in" before jumping into the shower.  By the time I popped out of the shower she had responded.

"Engaged, Slave..... will call you later."

I suppressed my impulse to be a wise ass, and respond "But you're already married!", knowing exactly the sort of "engagement" that had her preoccupied. Instead I organized myself for the work day, and we talked on my way to work.

As might be expected, Mistress was a little tired by late afternoon, and the nice weather tempted both of us to leave our offices a little early.  I stopped at our local green market to collect fixings for some mushroom risotto to accommodate our sullen teen, who announced upon her return from Europe that she is now a vegetarian.  It's not easy to find meals that appeal to all of us here when meat is off the table, but it's the thing you do when you try to be a "good Dad", isn't it.

At home, we were quickly off for a bike ride, racing  looming thunderheads. Then back at home, Slave had his first opportunity in more than a day to settle between Mistress's firm thighs for a little pre-dinner delight, an "amuse boche" before the main course.

"Am I a little gamey, Slave?"

After all we had just gotten back from a hot and humid bike ride.

"That's just the way I like you, Mistress...."

After she had been suitably "amused", Slave's plan was to whip up the risotto.

I announced to our picky daughter what I had planned to accommodate her diet and was immediately reprimanded.

"remember, no chicken broth....."

SHIT.  I hadn't considered the broth when I did my meal planning.

"But when your older sister decided she was a vegetarian even she didn't mind chicken broth in the risotto."

"I'm a vegetarian, Dad.... no chicken broth...."

(This said with the tone of Mitt Romney talking to his Mexican yard guy about poorly trimmed hedges, just before firing him).

At that she announced that she would just go out to dinner (on our tab of course), rather than succumb to my suggestion that maybe she run off to the grocery - where I had just been - to get some f***ing vegetarian broth.

As you might suspect, Slave was just a tad "cross" over this, grabbing my car keys and running this wonderful errand myself.  Mistress called me at the grocery, curious about what had happened to her Slave.

Had I hooked up with the Underground Railroad, and was headed to Canada.  (No Sin, maybe next time).

There's nothing worse than allowing your entitled teenaged daughter drive you into a hissy fit.

In any event, the broth was retrieved and the little journey gave me time to cool my temper.

Obviously, it's time for the nest to be emptied for more than a weekend or a night, isn't it?

So I will leave you with the following video suggesting what might happen here soon if we don't watch out:

Ikeas Commercial