Stuck

Mistress and Slave woke up in a charming little western town in Southern Colorado, in the shadow of these "Spanish Peaks", which out cracker jack Western Correspondent helpfully informed us are in the 14,000 ft. category. (We thought he was more familiar with Spanish Fly than Peaks, but I guess we are always surprised by Miguel.)

In fact, we had checked in with the WC on our drive Saturday evening north from New Mexico. We left our cabin after a final gloriously sunny ski day because of reports that snow was heading toward Denver, and we wanted to be on the ride side of that 10,000 foot mountain pass if that was the case.

Miguel assured Mistress that it was nothing to worry about.

"Only a few inches... DIA can sure handle that."

So we stopped for the night in that tiny old mining town at a quaint 130 year old hotel, with a cute little restaurant, planning to finish the drive to Denver this morning. And when we woke up at around 6 am the skies were clear, as you can see from this "on the road" photo.

But north of Colorado Springs the snow began to fall, and we got the word from an airline we will forego in the future that 1) our plane was cancelled;  2) If we are lucky they might be able to squeeze us in on an alternative flight in 3 or 4 days; and 3) there would be an extra charge to fly an earlier flight to a nearby City.

So much for our WC's meteorlogical skills.

I will give the WC credit though: he did invite us to move into his basement suite for the duration of our extended stay in the mountain west.  But work cannot wait for Southwest Airlines to find some room for us.  We braved an exit ramp in heavy wet snow, found a Starbucks, whipped out the laptops,  and made alternative reservations back in Colorado Springs.... for Monday morning.

We hopped back in the rental car, reversed course, dodged spinning pick-ups on I-25, and now find ourselves safely and warmly ensconced in a hotel near the airport. Sadly, the WC was unable to accept our invitation to join us for dinner. Nor would his Executive Editor expect him to risk the company car in this weather.

Mistress did complain to him over the phone that her Slave was unwilling to pull off the snow slicked, whited out  highway in search of a lingerie stores so she could acquire an extra set of undies for this unexpected stay. The WC advised that she "go commando" tomorrow, but she whined about the potential chafe involving jeans and tight airport seating.

But there was a happy ending of sorts.

The snow abated by the time we hit the Springs.

And Slave spotted a suburban mall with a Kohl's.  That would have to do.  Mistress selected the following from the meager selection:

"You like polka dots, don't you Slave?"

And we did find a cozy hotel room.  We've already had some nice "between the sheets" time, though Mistress expressed surprise when, after I gave her a nice cum with my hungry lips and tongue, I directed her to suck her "work-a-day" cock.

"You're getting a little 'take charge' aren't you Slave?"

"Remember Mistress.... it is switch day."

Fortunately, Mistress did remember.

And tonight, while Mistress is watching the Oscars, maybe I can find some time to further organize the budding "Tammy Liberation" Movement.

FREE TAMMY!

Mistress and Slave are winding down our week at our SW hideaway. Over the last few days the snow gods have smiled on us here, giving us back to back Powder Days with the groomers unable to keep up with the dump.  Both Mistress and I took photos of ourselves knee deep in the light fluffy stuff yesterday.

But you will be relieved to know that we've also been able to keep up the sexual hijinks too.  Of course, Wake-up sex is never a problem. After a good night's sleep we are always "good to go", and the time change always gives us a little head start on the day. Early to bed and Mistress's work-a-day cock is locked, loaded and ready to discharge on command.

Yesterday afternoon, our legs were shot by around 1:30, so we came down the hill a little early. We had friends coming over for dinner, so Slave went into town to buy some provisions while Mistress set the table and tidied up. When I arrived home Mistress was ready for a lay down, with about 3 hours to go before our guests arrived.

She mentioned how sore her legs were, and I noted that she still had her black skiing tights on. Slave took this as a signal that Mistress was too tuckered for some afternoon delight, and I must say I was a little sleepy too. So after a little reading we both dozed off as the sun began its slow descent reflecting off the mountains through our cabin window.

But after about 30 minutes I noted some tell tale motion  next to me. Mistress was snuggling close, and her leg was draping over mine. I quickly got the message.

"Slave, I want you to make love to me now...."

No problem, Mistress, I thought you were tuckered out and  taking a pass."

"let me do the thinking, Slave."

She slithered out of those tights, and instructed her slave to insert "your device", assuring a particularly cock.  And by the time I slid back into bed I was more than anxious to graze her clean shaven folds as a little "starter" course before moving onto the main event.

Mistress indulgence of her pampered house Slave is a contrast to what's going on over in the realm of Suzanne at  All Mine . She and Jay are off somewhere in the West, where she is combining business with mucho pleasure this week. In the meantime, Tammy has been relegated to his cock cage, with no apparent possibility of parole until his Mistress's return.

Now I know some of you fans of forced chastity relish the thought of extended denial. But all I know is the cock cage I wear can get damned uncomfortable after 24 hour. I can't begin to imagine the pinchy pain and discomfort of a week of containment.  Yikes!

It sounds that Tammy's regular babysitter, Sherry, who typically enjoys "keyholder" status (as well as other privilges) will be checking up on Tammy this weekend. Couldn't she be allowed to at least take Tammy's "clitty cock" out for a weekend stroll before Suzanne returns next week?

Now maybe this cry for justice is impertinent coming from a lowly, and oft  pampered house Slave. Last night Mistress threatened me with a spanking in front of our guests when I inconsiderately gave her some instructions as we were putting dinner on the table.  (One of the female guests snickered at the thought, though I suspect she thought Mistress was only joking with me). It may be this blog posting will be interpreted as too "uppity" and make her follow through on her warning. If so, I am prepared to face the medicine for showing solidarity for a fellow sub.

But of you agree with me that its time to give Tammy at least a brief parole this weekend, with supervision by Suzanne's well experienced sister Tammy, please stop by All Mine today and add your voice to mine.

Snow Day

I know, when it snows like hell, and you're in a ski town, the first thing you're supposed to do is grab your skis and head to the mountain, right?  Sort of like Annette and Frankie in those old beach movies when someone yells "surf's up"?

Well I regret to inform you that Mistress and Slave have become fair weather skiers.  When the roads get slippery, and the snow gets a little too thick on the cruising runs, we tend to look for other things to occupy our time. Accuse us of being "fair weather skiers" and we are likely to break down and confess.

That was especially true yesterday, when we woke with some sore legs and backs after four consecutive days on the slopes, about 7 inches of new snow in the yard, and the gregarious Irish DJ on the local radio warning about a bad accident on the road up the canyon that had traffic stopped for the foreseeable future.

Well of course there was some grazing on Mistress's clean shaven folds to conduct, after which she indulged her cock with some compelling mouth to rod resuscitation before allowing me to fuck her.

Slave whipped up some scrambled eggs as we still considered out option of a later than normal trip up to the mountain. But ultimately we acknowledged the obvious -- our motivation to hip the slopes was just not there. So we resigned ourselves to a day of lazy. And though we did do some remote location work for a while, a good bit of the day was spent in front of the fireplace, reading or napping.

At around 1:30 pm we wandered down the street past some of our neighbors frolicking in the new fallen snow:

And we slid into the local ice cream store / breakfast spot / and wifi hot spot for a scoop of some locally made organic ice cream, purportedly free of the bovine growth hormones that the fellow above seems to gorge on. I noticed that the store is now offering a breakfast special named after Mistress:

Thoughts of that "bed of sauteed portabellas, spinach and red onion" had us heading home and back to our own bed. After inquiring whether I had packed my "device" (the aneros), Mistress made it clear she was interested in exploiting the particularly hard and needy cock it can contrive. 

And rest assured, she did.

All in all, I think we put our snow day to good use.

Bear Necessities

Yesterday was another perfect one here in the Sangre de Christo Mountains.

There was some robust wake-up sex in Mistress's home office away from home. She seemed to particularly enjoy the devotion of my lips and tongue to those clean shaven folds.

Then there was a day on the slopes, with some early morning cloud cover melting away on our very first chair ride to perfectly clear and azure skies.

Mistress even got in some flirtation time.  WE had agreed to meet at the end of a run at a small espresso shack at the base of a lift. Mistress took the direct route, and I must have meandered, so when I was arrived, she was sitting at an out door picnic table, helmet off, and the arm of a bearded man, about my age over her shoulder.

I stepped up to the coffee shack, only a few feet away, and casually asked what her order would be.

The fellow, with a neatly trimmed beard seemed a little surprised when Mistress said, "oh that's my husband....".

Then she said to me "he asked if he could pose for a picture with me . . . you don't mind do you?"

"Of course not...."

The man added, a little defensively, "It's not like we're making out or something...."

"Well that would be OK too.... it's up to her.... she's got permission....."

The man, a handsome chap who turned out to be here from San Diego for some type of bachelor party weekend, seems a little startled, but settled for his photo.

Mistress later explained that he told her they were on some sort of "scavenger hunt", and a photo with a
"young wife" was on the list.

"I expressed doubt about that Slave....I mean, I'm not all that young...."

Maybe it was the MILF category, Mistress...."

After that we took a few more runs, and then, legs getting sore, we retreated down the mountain at around 2 pm. Slave had an errand to run.

On Saturday afternoon, on the way down the canyon, a front tire had blown out. Slave did some "field slave" duty and changed the tire on the muddy shoulder, impressing Mistress with the fact that I had at least a few useful skills.

But that left us driving on one of those wimpy little spare tires, which the rental company helpfully explained that I should use for no more than 50 miles, at no more than 50 mph. Well that's helpful!
And, BTW,  when they learned how far  we were from "civilization", their initial offer to bring a new car and haul this gimpy one away was unceremoniously withdrawn.

"Just take it to a local tire store... maybe customer service will reimburse you...."

I look forward to that conversation.

So that brought Slave to the nearest tire store yesterday afternoon. And it was very "local".  Something that seemed the combination of auto parts and taxidermy shop, with a little seating area furnished with 40 year old couches and barca-loungers. And of course a full sized stuffed brown bear off to the side, where a flat screen might be at your local Goodyear store back in River City.

I toted my dead tire to the front desk where a rather grimy hispanic fellow took it off my hands and out the back door for a quick diagnosis. Someone on a cell phone asked if I wanted to wait or come back, since "treatment" might take half an hour. I elected to stay and soak in the atmosphere, which began to take on the dimensions of a sit-com set, sort of an Hispanic, Southwest version fo "Taxi."

But I got the bad news only a few minutes later. A sad shake of the head. "This one's dead, Senor."
I didn't spend much time in mourning, instead asking if they had a reasonable facsimile. It turned out they had something that might work, and would only put me out $120. Though Mr. cell phone warned that the rent-a-car company might argue if it wasn't an exact duplicate when I asked for my money back.

No doubt.

Of course, when they tried to mount the new tire the news got worse. They pointed to a bent rim, and the leak it produced.

"That's why it went flat in the first place...."

"Can't you just bang it back...."

"But it's aluminum.... banging might make it crack...."

They seemed impressed with  my cajones when I said "but what do we got to lose....."

Sure enough, a few wacks with a mean looking chunk of metal, and the rim seemed restored to something close to it's original shape. And the tire wasn't leaking. Will it hold for the week and the ride back to Denver?  Who knows.

 After I settled my tab, Mr. Cell Phone had no problem with me taking a photo of their bear.

"My Dad shot it up near Eagle Lake. When it was legal. They say that bear tore up a whole lot of kitchens."

I'm glad I never had to grab my corn flakes back from that bad boy.

Back at home, Mistress was laying out in the last of the day's sun, wrapped in a blanket, taking some work calls.  But soon I persuaded her to share some of her bodily warmth back under the covers.  While she claimed her folds had gotten a little stubbly from neglect, I was more than happy to abandon my field slave duties for more intimate tasks.