Wedding Shower From Hell

Poor Mistress.

On Saturday afternoon she was consigned to attend a wedding shower for her devoted Slave's niece - the daughter of my dearly departed younger brother. When we originally accepted the invitation, it was under the assumption that it was one of those more "modern" co-ed showers, where the groom to be, husbands and male friends were also welcome. But, no....  it was not until after we sent an affirmative response that Mistress learned to her horror it was a "girls only" affair.

Someone once said about the Collins clan that it's like the Hotel California: you can check out, but you can never leave. Sure enough, Mistress texted me not long after the party commenced that the attendees included: my ex-wife, my brother's ex-wife (along with his widow, the mother of the bride to be), and a couple of his former actual and/ or wannabe girl friends (we are not sure if the wannabe ever actually got into my brother's pants, but it seems likely). Although we now get along on fairly cordial terms with my ex-wife, Mistress always notes a certain chill from other family members  when she and my ex  are in the same room - as in "is it cool to be cordial to Molly when the ex is there?" By now, after about 20 years you would think some folks would "move on", but one should never over-estimate the generosity of the human spirit.

As you might imagine, Mistress has no patience for these sorts of shenanigans, or for the whole "hen party" concept in the first place.  "When I left they were playing some silly game, Slave.... ugh..."

I suspect I have earned a good cropping for having sent Mistress on this mission with too many catty women on a perfectly good Saturday.

Fortunately, she had a good excuse to bail out early - we had planned a birthday dinner for our cute co-ed and several of her sorority girl friends up the road on her bucolic heartland campus. I suppose I could say the tables were turned there: Slave was the only male at the table, and there were few males in the entire restaurant, since this apparently was some sort of "Moms' weekend" for several of the sororities. Not to worry though (as if you would), once Slave adopted to the ultra- high decibel level of all those squawking girls and their moms, I was treated to some tasty eye candy: lots of cute sorority girls in their too short dresses out for a Saturday night. Some of the Moms weren't so bad either, though none of them held a candle to Mistress.  So while it was too loud to hear much of the conversation from my end of the table, Slave never got too bored.

It was too late by the time we finally got home from our campus excursion for some "night cap" sex, but we made up for it in Sunday: Mistress was treated to a little "power tool" action before she headed to her spinning class; and later in the afternoon, after a much needed nap, Slave used his un-powered tools to provide a little extra worship. Fortunately, Mistress was kind enough to return the favor, and we got in one more round of fucking during the extra daylight that the time change provided us.

Hopefully I can figure a way to make it up to Mistress for consigning her to that nasty wedding shower.

Peek-A -Boo Tights Make a Cameo Appearance

Here in River City, spring seemed  to arrive at long last yesterday. the snow is almost all melted away, and the thermometer breached 50 for the first time in what seems like ages.

Mistress was dressing for some work engagements and seemed torn: is tights' season over (frowny face from her Slave), or is this the very end of tights' season?

Instead she compromised: "just for you Slave, I'll wear my peek-a-boo tights....."

We had planned on some socializing after work, and there would be a chance for some discrete semi-public worship if we played our cards right.

But.... Mistress had a particularly stressful day, so at around 5 pm we canned our after work plans and headed home. 

All was not lost though..... when Slave got home, there she was lounging on our bed. Her black silk nightie was on, but her peek-a-boo tights remained on too.

It wasn't long before Slave had stripped off his own work clothes, and had my lips and tongue hard at work, hoping to relieve some of the stress that Mistress had over-piled up during her day.

And after I had induced one lovely cum with my oral attention.... Mistress was happy to return the favor.  First she instructed me to insert that white plastic aneros though....

"I want a particularly hard cock, Slave...."

And after she teased it with those soft and deft hands, I was given license to take my pleasure from her, my cock plunging into her clean shaven folds, through the convenient aperture in those sexy black tights.

It (almost) made me regret that winter is finally releasing it's stranglehold on the heartland!

Back to the Grind

Yes, friends. We did make it back to River City late Monday night. We've been absorbed in the daily grind since then, resenting the fact that we left all that new snow behind for others to exploit. By now the crazy Texans are heading north for spring break. Who knows what will be left behind once they are finished with our lovely mountain. Let's hope they don't have enough time to start fracking before they go back to school!

Of course, we've not given up on our daily dosage of sex. Mistress has been back in her lovely black nightie this week, which is some small comfort for all the time we've had to spend tending to cranky clients. And this afternoon she's having lunch with her "side dish" Jay. Maybe they'll be setting up a more intimate get together soon?  Who knows.

I have been sorting through the Amex card receipts piled up by our Western Correspondent on his recent junket to Sochi. It's as bad as you might imagine. $6000 for a Cossack costume, not including the cute little hat and horse whip? And $4000 just to rent a horse for a few hours?  Please.....

But the last straw was this:

A custom taolored suit of armour "let out" to accomodate the special occasion cock for $25,000?  Just to cover the Olympics?  How am I going to recoup that on E-Bay when I try to unload it?

Maybe we should reassign him to cover the dust-up in the Crimea. He can use all those contacts he made with his Cossack pals to get the inside scoop. UCTMW could buy a "key man" insurance policy on his sorry ass and hope for the worse?

Powder Day

The snow kept falling up on our local ski mountain all through Saturday and most of Sunday, leaving behind a total of about 27 much needed  inches over the three day of this lovely storm. By 8 am the parade of cars from all the local "powder hounds" was streaming past our little hideaway.

But as savvy skiers, we knew there was no rush. It would take more than a few hours for the intrepid ski patrollers to blast away potential snow slides to make the mountain safe for skiers. So we spent a little more quality time in our little chunk of paradise. Mistress was pleased when she saw me pull out and plug in the spare power tool we keep here for just such occasions. And it seemed to have an even more potent (and speedy) impact on her clean shaven folds. Soon it was she who was asking permission to cum. Who would I be to deny her the pleasure of a power assisted release of all that sexual energy?

After some time in front of the fire, we headed up the mountain. The crowds and powder were thick, and the snow was damp and heavy on our legs, after 9 consecutive days of skiing. So we made it a shorter day than typical.... "why kill ourselves on the last day of the trip" seemed to be our attitude.

Of course, that left more time for some final R & R here in the hideaway. The fire was blazing, Mistress and Slave got in a final afternoon nap. And just before sunset the sun finally popped out from the crowds, lighting up the mountain that had been hidden by snow clouds for three days:

Sadly, we head back to River City today, where they've had their latest snowmageddon over the weekend. Somehow snow is not the same there, where it backs up traffic and covers sidewalks rather than creates recreational and agricultural opportunity!

So I'd better get back in bed quickly with Mistress to squeeze out one last chance for wake-up sex before we take that long road back to the heartland.