Mistress and Slave Meet the Swingers

With her afternoon delight with Mr. Leprecock behind her on friday, you couldn't blame Mistress if she called it a night, and retreated with her pampered house Slave to the UCTMW World HQ for a little R & R. 

But as it turns out, she had arranged to meet a "gentleman" and his wife at a local downtown bar with her Slave in tow.

This was another guy who contacted her via AM. He noticed the part in Mistress's profile that says her husband is clued in on her extracurricular activities, and told her that he and his wife have a similar arrangement: but (unlike Slave) they both "play the field".  They talked on the phone the other night, and Mistress was intrigued enough by some of his stories that it seemed like a four way meet up might be entertaining.

Now this guy really isn't Mistress's "type". He is more working class hero than over educated "professional". He works for the local public utility, and we have started calling him the "Witchita Lineman" after that old Glen Campbell song.  We met him and his wife at a local sports bar he suggested, one of those places with wall to wall big screen TVs with Masters' highlights and the local baseball team clogging the plasma. 

(Of course, Mistress had a crash course on Masters highlights earlier in the afternoon, so she now was well aware of what a "leader board" was.  She knew that numbers like 5+ did not reference cock size).

Shane and Bridget are both in their early 40's, and we got to know them over some unhealthy food,  Guinness for me and a Chardonnay for Mistress.

We all shared some funny stories about our sexual adventures over the last few years. They've worked the local "swinger" scene, and we told them about our trip to the downriver dungeon with Aisha.  Mistress even shared the fact that her boredom at work that Friday had led her on a frolic and detour to the home of Mr. Leprecock only a few hours earlier.

Bridgett was tall and fairly attractive, but with a laugh that was a little scary, and made Slave want to suppress his trademark humor about half-way through our conversation. But when they told a story about she and a female friend getting it on with a strap-on at one of their "parties", I must say the thought of her buried between Mistress's legs piqued my prurient interest.

What became clear was that while both of them are free to indulge, Bridgett's been getting a lot more action than Shane, and Shane is not the type, like some of us out there, who necessarily gets off on the whole cuckold thing.

Shane was clearly interested in the lovely Molly, and moving this little party somewhere more private where he might be able to slide her out of her panties.

"If we didn't have a kid and babysitter over at our house, I'd invite you home with us right now."

Of course we had an empty nest, but I didn't notice Mistress suggesting that we adjourn there.

On the way home, Mistress acknowledged what was pretty obvious from the start. Shane was not the type of guy she would want to bed. A little too short. A little too goofy. Rough edges in the wrong places. But how to tell that to a perfectly nice guy we had a pleasant and entertaining evening with?

"If I did it it would be a sympathy fuck, Slave... I kind of feel bad that she's getting so much more action than he is...."

"I think you're beyond sympathy fucks, Mistress....."

On the other hand, we had fun with them as 2 couples sharing funny stories about our in-common kinks in a way we can never do with the boring folks we normally socialize with. That's good isn't it?

When we got home, there was the predictable text from Shane,  raving about how sexy he thought Mistress was, and wondering when they might get together again.... "how about tomorrow night.... LOL."

(Did I ever mention that Mistress wonders about guys who use LOL in the communications?)

So do we invite them over for a fun dinner at our house some night, while making it clear that this is not a door opener for Shane to get it on with Mistress?  Or do we simply cut things off all together?

Any thoughts, dear readers?

Leprecock

The hardest part of writing today's entry was picking a suitable headline to describe Mistress's odd discovery yesterday afternoon.

She had been out late for a client dinner Thursday evening, so our day started a little later than normal Friday morning, with Slave endeavoring to provide her some wake-up pleasure before we both headed off to work. She seemed to have a busy work day planned - more clients at lunch time, back to the office, then we would both "hook-up" at a local watering hole with a couple Mistress had discovered through her AM "shopping" in the last week.

So Slave was a little surprised to get a call around 2:30 pm at my office from Mistress.

"Slave.... you'll probably think I'm crazy but I'm going over to your fellow alum's house.... he's been badgering me to come by the last few days, and well.... I'm tired of working...."

"I guess that's better than 'shopping therapy', Mistress."

This was the guy she'd met for drinks Tuesday evening - The golfer who'd been on scholarship 20 years after I graduated. Mistress had shared a few of his cute, urgent and flirtatious sexts with me. He clearly wasn't inclined to wait until Tuesday night if he could persuade Mistress to drop by any sooner. But he had shown a respectful reserve - no cock shots taken via the bathroom mirror from this guy.

And apparently he was an effective salesman, unlike the erstwhile Latin Lover who she had kicked to the curb.

I made sure Mistress took at least a few safety precautions, including giving me his name and address. But it's hard not to trust a fellow alum, right?  ( At least he didn't go to USC.... or Boston College for that matter).

I suppose it was fortunate that Mistress had made these plans "on the fly", since otherwise, Slave would have been caged and a little more on edge than normal as I awaited her update.

And sure enough, she came back on the radar screen at around 4:45 pm, calling me as she drove away from her little suburban rendezvous.

"You won't believe this Slave.... his cock looks just like yours!"

"Hmmm.... so he's got the standard issue Fighting Irish equipment?"

"Exactly.... it was hard not to laugh...."

Well not that her work-a-day cock is laughable.... at least I hope. And it sure looks good when tricked out with one of those gold helmets!

"Ladies and Gentlemen.... the cock of the Fighting Irish."

I couldn't help but start humming the fight song.

After some office worship/clean-up duty behind my closed office door, I debriefed her further over a cocktail at a crowded downtown bar as we waiting for our meet and greet with Shane and Bridget (was this Irish Week for Mistress?).

"It was fun, Slave.... he's a nice, funny guy.... and we watched the Masters a bit. He's played that course and knew a lot of the players from his competitive days. Interesting stories."

"But what about the sex, Mistress....did he satisfy your needs on a Friday afternoon?"

"He did Slave.... I did some cock riding... and he had me suck his cock. Could you taste the cum on my lips?"

"Uhhhh.... no..... I guess I missed that....."

"And how does he rank so far among your lovers?"

"I guess he falls into the "OK... but not great" category, at least so far...."

"Could this be another one-and-done, Mistress.... that is so ND, at least in the NCAA Men's bracket".

I'm not sure Mistress got the allusion. She's not much of a basketball fan.

"We'll see Slave...."

'Then again, if the point of all this is to provide a little variety for Mistress, what's the point of doing it with a cock that's just like mine...."

"You have a point, Slave."

We'll save the evenings further developments with Shane and Bridget for tomorrow morning's post.

Iron Domme

Earlier this week as the news broke about the death of the former Prime Minister, Slave could not help recalling a song written by Elvis Costello back during her reign called "Tramp the Earth Down". It was a political protest song classic, written by Elvis Costello, with some stirring similes and metaphors. I mean how can you resist, "When England was the whore of the world, Margaret was her Madam".  The thrust was that the singer was only hoping to still be around on the day Margaret died so he could "tramp the earth down". ( In fairness to him, he did say he hoped she lived long....)

And the song was a particular favorite of my brother, a devotee of labor and Irish nationalism, who, sadly, did not live to see that particular day himself.

So it was natural that I thought of that old song, and posted it here (and on my facebook page too, btw) on Monday.

I did get a little pushback though, particularly from a commenter who labeled herself "Feminist", who suggested that the song and my posting of it  was just another example of  guys picking on a strong woman. Well, I didn't think of it that way: I sure admire other "strong women", including Mistress. And in the political realm, there's Golda Meir or Hillary to think of, who's grown on me over the last few years.

And I never thought of Maggie as a feminist. There is that quote in which she says "feminism is poison" that comes to mind. It seemed that she saw "equality" as the enemy of "freedom", and was famous for a cabinet where she was the only woman at the table.

Indeed, if there ever was a political "Domme" it would seem to be England's first female prime minister, who seemed to have a sadistic edge,  taking particular relish in belittling and humiliating her male opponents and colleagues. When she warned George H. W. Bush that he shouldn't go all "wobbly" on Saddam, wasn't that a a bit of public humiliation, questioning his manhood in an effort to get him to invade Iraq?

But in any event, I stumbled on a video yesterday showing that its not just the guys who have been throwing a little extra dirt on Maggie's grave these last few days.  Here is Glenda Jackson, MP's stirring Parliamentary Tribute to the Iron Domme from the debate over a proclamation in her honor. If you can, stick around for the pronouncement from the Speaker that she was not "out of order"

(Here is a link to the video: Glenda Jackson on Margaret Thatcher. )

So now that we've put her to rest, so to speak, let's move onto what is up with Mistress's current quest for a little outside entertainment.

As mentioned here yesterday, she had arranged an after work "date" with a somewhat younger fellow who disclosed in their correspondence that he had attended my alma mater., though 20 years after me. Small world!

I anxiously awaited news from my office on how her date was going, at a bar just down the street.  She ultimately texted around 6:30 pm that she was 'on her way". So what was the verdict?

"He was interesting, Slave... must have gone there on a golf scholarship. Had funny stories about golfing with Lou Holtz when he was being recruited." Of course, when I was there Ara Parseghian was the football coach and the game of golf had not yet been invented.

Enough of an impression was left that Mistress has arranged to see this young gentleman next Tuesday evening. And he was texting semi-salacious messages to her last night. So we will see how that develops.

"He's says he's not big on compliments, and is not all that open emotionally, Slave...."

"Yeah, sounds like your typical ND grad....but at least he recognizes his shortcomings."

"I told him no worries.....I am used to the whole Irish Catholic thing...."

In the meantime, there are two other potential suitors in the Q, awaiting that first "meet and greet". Once again this is getting a little crazy.

Stay tuned....

How Not to Use Your Work Email Account

A few things popped up yesterday worth sharing on any sex blog worth it's salt. Like this piece in the Washingtonian, about a sex scandal at the high priced Sidwell Friends' School in DC, where the kids of the rich famous and presidential have attended for decades, including the current first kids.

It's a tale of cuckoldry reminding us once again that if you are a school psychologist, it's not a smart idea to  use your  work email account to send salacious emails to the mother of one of the kids you are "counseling". Here's a choice passage to mull over:
 

During the course of the affair, Huntington [the school psychologist] sent a number of sexually explicit e-mails to Mehrbach [the mom] from his Sidwell account—sometimes in the middle of the workday. His e-mails, according to Newmyer’s complaint, graphically recounted their encounters, including oral and anal sex, role-playing, and “manic rubbing and touching when [Huntington is] under the influence.”

In a March 4, 2010, exchange excerpted in Newmyer’s complaint, Huntington e-mailed Mehrbach expressing his desire “to be busy with [her] body,” and when she called to discuss it but didn’t reach him, his follow-up e-mail explained why: “Your call enabled me to kick out some 8th grade girls from my room. They were winners from Twin Day, so they were eating their prizes in here and talking about male P.E. teachers that try to hit on them.”

At the time of that e-mail—and for much of the duration of the affair during the 2009-2010 school year—Huntington taught sex education to Sidwell sixth graders, during which time First Daughter Malia Obama was in the sixth grade. Typically, the class is mandatory for all sixth graders, according to former students.

In one of the e-mails included in the complaint, Huntington wonders whether he should discuss the affair with Newmyer’s daughter. “Do I talk about masturbating on your face or your marital situation with Terry . . . ? Decisions, decisions, decisions.”

It’s even better that somehow Bob Woodward and his wife are embroiled in this, trying to keep some of their own emails with the school off the public record. Is there a Deep Throat involved in this tawdry affair? And why couldn’t the Plaintiff have embraced his role as cuckold and let the good times role?

Then there was this other piece highlighting the return of Mad Men, a favorite here at the UCTMW World HQ: Mad Men Creator Sheds Light on Don Draper's SM Sex Drive. 

In the article the show's producer / writer ponders whether male slut Draper, a favorite of Mistress as the ultimate sexy bad boy, really craves a Domme who could rein him in and truly fulfill his need to be  under a strong woman's thumb. Maybe next season?

Finally, on a personal note, I better get upstairs for some wake-up sex with Mistress and determine whether or not this is a cage day. That was the original plan before Mistress cancelled her assignation with a certain LL, since kicked to the curb for the sin of hubris.

But it turns out Mistress has already refilled the day's dance card, arranging for an after work getting to know you drink with another potential suitor. What's odd about this one is that he actually attended Slave's alma mater, which came up when he shared a photo of himself in one of this ubiquitous ND shirts.  

Of course, it's unlikely we know one another since he graduated about 20 years after this aging alum.

What I did not confirm was whether Mistress wants her Slave caged for the day while awaiting reports on how things go with them. (And I know what some of you out there are already thinking.)