HNT / Slave Plays Chaperone

The window on our empty nest time is quickly closing. Tomorrow we head off on the long slog to pick up cute Co-Ed #2 and all her detritus on the east coast. So it may be challenging for Mistress to exploit her new collection of AM contacts in the coming weeks.

Slave continues to monitor and do triage on her supplicants. The scariest part is sifting through all the photos that end up in her inbox. This is more an R rated blog than XXX , so I will spare you the full on penis shots that some guys seem to think will appeal to  a lady in search of  mischief. But here are a few that sum up the less graphic categories of AM preening.

There is the "look how chiseled I am" approach:

Does this guy shave all that surface area? How does he avoid cutting himself?

There is the Asian guy who wants to showcase his tattoos.

 

Apparently the Yakuza must be looking for fresh meat. Mistress does like Sushi.

There are the guys who have problem executing the bathroom mirror "selfie":

There are many varieties of the guy nonchalantly emerging from the surf, Burt Lancaster like, in various stages of dress, or not. Here is an example: 

A particularly unique approach was the guy sporting his wife's lingerie while flaunting his leg hair:

This guy clearly needs to get some sun.  (I am sparing you the companion shots showing his penis spurting onto those cute red panties.)

Finally, there is the guy who wants to show that he can not only take Mistress to new  heights of ecstasy, but is also ready to squire her to a black tie event:

Despite this odd assortment of rejects, Mistress did have an interesting "first date" last night with a gentleman caller who lives not too far away. Sadly, her experience is that meeting these guys "cold" can be excruciating. So she demanded that I join her as a sort of chaparone. This guy seemed via his emails to buy into (and get a thrill from) the whole cuckold concept, even forwarding to her some Tumblr photos and links that stoked that particular fantasy. So it did not seem too odd that the potential "cuck" come along for the first "meet and greet".

Setting out, Mistress was feeling a tad under the weather. Her voice was a little croaky, and it seemed a cold was settling in. "If he's a loser, Slave, you may need to keep the conversation going."

"I will do my best, Mistress."

Of course, just because this gentleman had sent photos did not mean they would be representative or accurate. Been there, seen that. So when we arrived at the quaint little bar / restaurant not far from our house, and Mistress spotted a rather large guy in white pants who looked like he had spent the day riding a gold cart and consuming a 12 pack of Bud, she almost turned around and headed back to the car. 

"Do you think that's him, Slave.....", she whispered with dread.

Fortunately, it wasn't. Steven was upstairs, sitting at the bar, all decked out in a nicely tailored suit. Tall, slim, handsome and clearly making a nice impression on Mistress once we settled into a table and ordered some beverages. 

Once Mistress's tequila arrived, and the two of them were trading stories about where they liked to bike and their AM disasters, Slave was feeling  like the third wheel that I was. I tried to speak when spoken to, like a good Slave should. Suzanne would have been proud of me (even if I was not wearing my cage.)

After dinner, Slave discretely slipped away to the Men's room, leaving them alone for a while. When I returned Mistress shared that they had scheduled  a bike riding date for Tuesday next. Mistress no doubt will need a break from our daughters by then. And it seemed like a good way to ease into things.

When we got home, Mistress indulged her Slave with a worship opportunity before bedtime, and as I buried my face between her thighs, she shared a little secret.

"You know Slave, he was gently rubbing my leg under the table while we were sitting there having dinner and talking."

"Hmmm.... I missed that, Mistress. Was that a turn on?  "

"Oh yes......"

 

 

 

 

Mother's Day Switch

It was fortuitous that Mother's Day (as always) fell on the UCTMW official switch day. It gave me the opportunity to "treat" Mistress to some pre-bike ride bondage. Her wrists cuffed behind her back, and ankles cuffed together too.

A few spanks to sensitize her tender parts. And then whipping out her favorite power tool.

Slave was clever. With her ankles cuffed tightly together, Mistress had some issues with spreading her legs to make sure the big bulb of her hitachi was positioned properly.

"That's frustrating, Slave.... it's so close but...."

"Aww, poor Mistress."

Nothing like a little Mother's Day tease and denial.

Not to worry. After a while I coaxed Mistress up onto her knees, giving her a better chance to enjoy the special thrills only her power tool can deliver.

She seemed very satisfied once the dust settled.

Relief at Last

On Friday night, Slave had one of those interminable firm dinners up in our boring state capitol. Happy Hour Reception.  Dinner. Small talk with folks I see most work days anyway. Then a lame "comedian" to conclude the night. It must have been around 10 pm before I was able to wander back to my hotel room. And as the evening progressed I noted that Mistress had not texted me, not even once. It led me to conclude that there was "mischief" going on down in River City, and Slave was in the dark about exactly the sort of mischief I was missing. 

I knew she was meeting some lady friends for a drink down in our hipster neighborhood. Were they just chatting? Or had Mistress been chatted up my some stranger at a bar, one thing leading to another? With her full contractual privilege to play at her own whim, Slave's curiosity was peaked. And after a whole 36 hours without any "action", Slave's cock couldn't hep but twitch a bit on the walk back to the hotel at the thought(s) of what Mistress was doing on her night out on the town.

The mystery was solved around 10:30 pm when my phone rang back in my hotel room.

"Hi Slave..... did you miss me?"

"Of course, Mistress....."

"After drinks with the girls, I decided to stop off at J's for a little 'night cap'."

It turned out to be a reverse "booty call", with Mistress dropping by to check in on her sometimes lover after his son had gone off to bed.

"It was just a quicky, slave."

So it turned out Mistress got a little action to take the sexual edge off, while Slave was all hot, bothered, but nonetheless obediently following my "no touch" protocol.

Ouch. Mistress provided some selective details of  her multiple cum encounter, which got  Slave all hard and horny. How Pavlovian. But it would still be another 14 hours or so before I was reunited with Mistress in her Executive Suite.  I did my best to focus on the NBA playoff game before drifting off to a fitful sleep.

Saturday morning I stayed at our retreat only so long as seemed required to show my face, then slipped out the door around 10 am or so for the 2 hour drive home. Mistress was out running some errands, and I unpacked. But it was not long before we were in bed together. Mistress had her suitable for spring time yellow thong on to taunt me -- it made me wonder what she had worn for J. Soon I was down between those lovely thighs, tasting the sweet and fragrant juices (and maybe a little left over remnants of the night before?) that fuel my addiction.  I will leave the rest to your twisted imaginations.

Is there anything better than reunion sex?

This morning, I am looking forward to a 2nd round, and will need to consider some special kinky treat for Mother's Day.  Hope all of you Mothers out there will have as many opportunities to orgasm as I plan to give the mother of our cute Co-Eds!

Dispatch From the Flatlands

With the days winding down before the end of the school year and the re-infestation of our empty nest, it was a particularly bad time for my firm to call one of those bi-annual "retreats". Whatever your business, I suspect many of you have  been exposed to one of these dreary navel gazing sessions where multiple offices and generations come together to lip synch platitudes about improving customer services, better training for your staff, blah, blah, blah.

Even worse, since all of the activities clearly exclude spouses or significant others, I am ensconced in a pretty nice hotel room on our state's oh so flat state capitol, and Mistress is on her own in River City. Sadly, my screening efforts on AM have yet to provide her with a worthy consort to warm her bed, and worship her clean shaven folds in my absence.

I suspect I deserve to be punished.

While I was not required to wear my cage, I've followed her orders:

"No touching, Slave."

On the 2 hour drive up here yesterday afternoon, I did check in with Donna, our Senior Correspondent. I can report that she is proud that her son is graduating from Medical School in the coming weeks, and that she has plans to attend the ceremony in the Big Apple. So beware all of you NYC kinksters : there will be a randy lady rolling through town shortly. Be prepared.

She also let me know that she had a solicitation from a  South Carolinian "gentleman" via FetLife.
"He wants to spank me, Mick". Not only that but Bill recently gave her a "spanking skirt". I'm not sure what that it, but it's bound to be put to good use should Donna take up this generous offer. We're counting on more details Donna.

Last night I did join several of my colleagues at a local restaurant that Mistress and I have enjoyed over the years. In fact, sitting there enduring some tedious conversation over my roasted beets and Branzino I had a flash back to a more compelling evening there more than 20 years ago:

It was when Mistress and her Slave were still flying below the radar screen... we had to be discrete since we were married to other people at the time. But this was an out of town "business trip" for both of us, so we planned a romantic dinner at this same restaurant. Anyone who saw us might have asssumed we were just  two work colleagues, enjoying dinner on the town. Or maybe a lobbyist cajoling a public official over some pasta and wine.  

But under Mistress's sexy mid-thigh length dress, she was wearing one of those butterfly style vibrators, like this:

It was not the high tech kind now available, with wireless remotes.  So I had to sit next to her at a banquet style table. surreptitiously sliding the remote at the end of a wire into my pocket. Dirty older man that I was, I enjoyed tormenting my hot young lover with little or longer blasts of vibration, making her squirm at my whim. If I recall correctly, Mistress came at least once during that meal, but I can't remember whether it was during desert or the entree course.

I suppose that was a time when this Slave was playing the dominant partner.

How times have changed, Mistress.

Very much looking forward to getting home tomorrow.