Bears in Bondage?

Mistress and Slave spent another day in this beautiful city Tuesday, but we are heading back to River City later this morning.  She had some work to do yesterday, giving Slave sometime to gamble about the town, wandering through North Beach and lolling at a coffee shop over a latte and my email.

Obviously, it's an edgier city than where we live, and I had to shoot a few of the kinkier window displays, like this one -- but what's with the bears in bondage imagery?  I know 'Nilla loves bears, so maybe this can inspire something:

I did see some lovely lingerie windows, that might set Tammy and Suzanne all a flutter:

Or these outfits, which I texted to Mistress at her conference:

Last night, after some pre-dinner worship, Mistress directed me to run through her AM correspondence one more time before locking it down for the time being. What amazes is the persistence of some guys to spend their AM credits with repeated entreaties, often culminating in "so just send me a message back explaining why you aren't interested in me!"

"I think doing that would only encourage them to keep whining, Slave."

Suffice it to say that Mistress makes the call based on an algorhytmn that is highly complex, but involves factors such as height, relative weight, face (after they send a key to their "private showcase"), whether the "showcase" contains unrequested body parts. whether they start out complaining about their wives or lovers ( a no no), and obvious grammatical or spelling errors (i.e., claiming you are "colleged educated"). The bottom line: she knows one when she sees one.

She has set up two "dates" this coming week, with two out of towners who will be in River City for a few days. One is set for Sunday evening (Slave will be at the Pussycats game); another is Monday evening, and Slave has been directed to make a dinner arrangement at a local Italian restaurant.

The tricky part will be scheduling a second encounter if it seems appropriate for later in the week. the two are already bidding for her Tuesday and Wednesday evenings.

"This could be tricky, Slave.... and they're staying at hotels only a few blocks from one another."

Of course, isn't it more likely that one or the another, and maybe both, will not "click" when the test for personal chemistry is applied?

"I'm sure you have the skills to figure this out Mistress. You are a highly accomplished multi-tasker."

Of course, there are a few "back-ups" on the list. Locals who want to set up time to meet for a coffee

Shelter From the Storm

Well it really wasn't a storm.

On our last morning at the beach that misty coastal fog had dropped down over the coastline, as it is wont to do through the year. But we wanted to get one last walk along the beach in before Heading into the City for a presentation Mistress will make later today at a trade association conference.

So after some invigorating wake-up sex in our little B & B room, we headed north along the beach, which ends in a warren of boulders and cliffs.

It had been several years  since we had been to this particular beach, but Mistress has an amazing memory, and recalled a summer visit years ago when the wind was blowing and we found a sheltered space between rocks to "hang out".

Maybe it was that re-awoken memory, or the talk about how one of her suitors is touting his oral sex talents, but it seemed that this deserted beach and the private spaces it made available should not be put to waste.

"Would you like a little surf-side worship, Mistress?"

She didn't put up much of an argument.

Soon her athletic shorts were dipping to her ankles.

And Slave was on his knees, pressing my lips to those delightful clean shaven folds. It was not long before Mistress was thrusting her hips at me, her fingers twisting into my fading gray locks, moaning with a little early morning delight to the background sounds of surf and a distant fog horn.

It was a good way for us to wind up that phase of our little holiday.

We spent the rest of the day back in the City, under a wonderful blue sky and warm temperatures. 

Oddly, along the beach and in the City yesterday we did see some things that reminded me of 'Nilla and her penchant for tentacle sex tales.

I mean look at this beach detritus, 'Nilla?

 But even more shocking is that the notion of questing tentacles with an oddly sexual twist has clearly gone mainstream, as this window off Union Square shows:

Mistress was a little surprised when I took this photo, so I explained the 'Nilla tentacle sex genre to her.

"You know, probing phallii filling every potential orifice at once, while binding your legs and arms at the same time as the "victim" of this cruel assault writhes in ecstasy?"

She looked at the window display again.

"Yeah... I could see the appeal of that."

Just Another Day at the Beach

Mistress and Slave got a full day of surf and sun on our Sunday. Preceded, of course, by some pre-dawn wake up sex. It seems our body clocks know when it's time to fuck, no matter the time zone. 

In lieu of switch day, Slave requested some cock riding from my beloved, and Mistress rode herself to a few groaning with ecstasy cums before, tired, she rolled over and let Slave have his way with her. But after a brief recuperative snooze, we slid into some hiking clothes, enjoyed breakfast at a locals' haunt, and then headed for the Point Reyes National Seashore, just up the coast.

The fog was clinging to the coast through the morning, and we got a good workout walking two miles or so along the wild coast line,  huge breakes crashing just a few feet off shore.

After our walk, we stopped by a little town we'd been to years ago, then headed back to the beach at Bolinas, where the sun was bright, the skies were blue and the surfers were in their wet suits.

We spread out a picnic lunch, and read a bit, with Mistress intermittently responding to text messages from one of her AM "prospects".

"he's asking about what I like Slave....."

"Oh really, and what does he like?"

"Sounds like he's into worship too.... "

Of course, Slave enjoys the competition. It will only make me raise my game.

By now, Mistress has culled the potential suitors down to two interesting fellows, both out of towners with frequent travels to River City. She has back to back dinner "dates" set up with them for early next week.

"What if you like both of them, Mistress?"

"Hmmmm..... I guess we'll have to sort that out later, Slave.

After the sun got low and the wind picked up, we abandoned the beach, and headed back to our funky B & B. 

It made sense to have a little more sex before dinner, didn't it? All that text message flirtation seemed to make both of us horny.

Surf's Up

Mistress and Slave were stunned by the weather here in this little beach town, just north of San Francisco. We were expecting fog and chill. Instead we got a lovely sunny day, great for laying on the beach, after a long beach walk this morning.

we are staying at a rather funky B & B, a small room off a little courtyard, in a place with a rather laid back management. So laid back that we had to find our own room last night when we "checked in". Fortunately, we must have found the right one!

Of course, still being on eastern time, we went to bed early last night (10 pm west coast time), and woke in what seemed like the middle of the night. Slave's pent up sexual demand seemed to coincide with some hunger for my work-a-day cock on Mistress's part. So there was some worship and fucking at around 4 am here, and then, again at around 8 am, before we headed out for that beach walk.

The internet service is a little spotty, but Slave found a way to get his alma mater on the I-phone, allowing me to sit on this gorgeous beach with Mistress, while hearing the lads beat the brainiacs from "The Farm" in overtime. Quite frankly, it ws better to listen too the dramatics on the radio, rather than suffer through it on TV.

In the meantime, Mistress was soaking up the sun, reading from her kindle, and exchanging text messages with one of her new AM "suitors", so I don;t think she minded her Slave's focus on the events transpiring back in Indiana.

Later, we drove down to Bolinas, a quintessential surfer / hippy town where we stumbled onto a combination harvest festival and rage, where we sipped some local wine and bought some picnic provisions for tomorrow. 

Summer is still happening out here, friends. So explain why we head back to River City on Wednesday?