Hunkered Down in Our Hideaway

Mistress and Slave made it safely to our Mountain hideaway here in the sunny Southwest.

Mistress has already logged some nude sunbathing time on our deck, much to the delight of the local wildlife. Fortunately, there have been no needs for a Fed Express delivery just yet.

We've also had a long bike ride, and got into our 2-a-day routine yesterday.

It's the time of year when the sun shines brightly in the morning, but then dramatic storm clouds billow and blow in late in the afternoon, cooling things down nicely, though any resulting rain is usually paltry.

Fortunately, that later afternoon cool down provides a good excuse to adjourn to our bedroom for som late afternoon sex and a nap.

I know, it's a tough routine.

We'll try to tough it out.

Mistress Airs it Out

Right now Mistress and Slave are parked in the Atlanta airport, waiting for our flight to the sunny SW for some much needed communal R & R. With kids parked at college, and summer just about done, we finally have some time away without our entourage.

Of course, we would have preferred to head west at the beginning of the three day weekend, as opposed to on its final day, but Mistress had some client minding to do and yesterday was particularly long and exhausting for her.

Sunday morning should be a lazy switch day in the empty nest. But Mistress was up at 6:30 am for an early morning session with a client and the media. She made it home by 10 am, allowing us at least some mid-morning sex, if not wake-up sex. But then she was off again around 12:30. I had to drop her off down on our crowded Riverfront, and she spent the next few hours in a boat on the river in our skunky overheated air, with that same client and a coterie of others.

There was an evening dinner, stretching into a big fireworks show that Slave was invited to, so we arranged to meet at my office, pretty much abandoned as it should be on a Sunday, where Mistress had the option to take a shower, and otherwise cool off before her schedule resumed.

When Mistress arrived, she was clearly wilted from all those hours in the sun and humidity. 

"Slave.... I need to air it out!"

And no, this is not the sort of "airing it out" they do in the NFL, when balls fly every which way. This was full bore take off all your cloths and lay on my office floor with the AC blasting airing it out.

Mistress just laid there, stretched out and naked.... letting those clean shaven folds and the rest of her cool down. We talked about her day, and of course I offered to worship.

"You'll have to do it to me down here, Slave.... I'm too exhausted to sit down in that chair."

Since there were only one or two workaholics in the office by 5 pm on a Sunday afternoon, I didn't even bother to slide the chair against my closed office door. I just stretched out on the floor at the apex of those muscular and shapely spread legs, and went to work. And despite her fatigue, it didn't take me too long to squueze a nice healthy cum from my too tuckered to sit on her throne Mistress.

Now that she has her new business up and running maybe she'll give me the title of CRO ("Chief Relaxation Officer").

Game Day Rituals

Here at the UCTMW World HQ we're counting down the hours until our flight to our SW hideaway Monday morning. Sadly, we're stuck here in the hot, sticky River City air because of some work demands for Mistress. She's got a client dinner tonight, and will be dragged into a long busy day tomorrow that will keep both of us out late Sunday evening.

So it's been nice to go a little slower here today, which just happens to be the kick-off of my alma mater's football season.

Our game day schedule included some robust wake-up sex, an outing at a local park and farmer's market with my cute grandkids, then a midday bike ride in this yucky heat. That got us back home about an hour before "game time".

My preparation was a shower, and handling a few household chores as I counted down the moments before kick-off.  And of course, right before kick-off, I made sure to discharge a little of my anticipatory excitement by lavishing Mistress's clean shaven folds with some attention from my lips and tongue.

Some "good luck" worship can't hurt can it?

So far my team looks good, but then again, the competition is of the "cup-cake" variety.

Of course, Mistress is here too, just across the room but she has a different approach to the "excitement" of collegiate football:

 But at least when she takes a nap at home, rather than at the Stadium, she doesn't have to overdress.

What's in Your Bag?

After the second worship session behind my closed office door yesterday, Mistress and Slave stopped at a political fundraiser, and then walked down to the local football palace to join some friends at the last "pre-season" (i.e. pretend) game.

It was Mistress's first trip to the stadium since the new bag policy was introduced by the NFL, and Apparently I misunderstood the rules.

I had understood that purses that were no more than 12 inches x 12 inches could survive the strict scrutiny of the cracker-jack security guards, but apparently, Slave was wrong. It turns out the 12 x 12 rule applies only to those goofy clear plastic bags that they are marketing with your team logos on them. So poor Mistress, who had already re-loaded her collection of lipsticks and grooming "essentials" into a smaller purse, was now forced to unload them all into a "complimentary" (not counting the ridiculous ticket prices) flimsy plastic bag under the curious eyes of a rather large security stooge.

She was not pleased.

"So if you're carrying tampons, or other items of a personal nature, you have to let everyone in the stadium check them out?  Nice."

The new policy seems to allow non-plastic bags only of this size:

This comes after they made lots of cash selling lots of branded stadium purpose bags and back packs like this one, that are now banned:

So now they're selling branded clear plastic bags in the stadium souvenir shops. No doubt next season, they'll say that the overpriced team jerseys they sold all those eager fans  have to be replaced by transparent jerseys.  That way we can check out everyone's tattoos!

That got us thinking about what other items one might have on hand.

We already know that because of the wanding that happens next in this security process, Slave could not wear his cage into the stadium.

But what if Mistress wanted him to slide into it once inside. We were sharing one of those elite stadium suites last night, with a private restroom.... I suppose Mistress could have brought the cage with her in her bag, and instructed me to slide into it once we arrived at the suite. But.... in her plastic bag, that would have raised a few eyebrows....

"Hmmmm..... what's that little steel cage you've got in your bag, Molly.....?"

Fortunately, that's not something Slave has to worry about much this season.

"I suspect this is the last time you're dragging me down here this season, Slave...."

No Mistress is not much of a football fan. She may need to recruit a new boyfriend to keep her company on Sunday afternoons this fall.