Proper Cuckold Protocol?

Our days at the SW hideaway are dwindling. We head home on Saturday morning, and will have a very difficult time breaking from our routine of two a day sex, lots of exercise, plenty of sun, beautiful sunsets and evenings filled with  friends and live music.

But something came up last night which raised an interesting issue of proper cuckold protocol. Maybe some of our lurking readers can help, so please come out of the weeds if you have an answer.

I mentioned last week that on the 4th of July, we met a local business owner, and then re-encountered him later that day. Mistress commented that he seemed to be flirting with her, and I had to agree.  She seemed pretty intrigued and enjoyed the attention.

Last night we went to a neighborhood restaurant, where a favorite performer was doing his Piano (and guitar) Man thing out on the lovely patio, where a large crowd was dining, drinking and dancing under the stars.

We found seats at the outdoor bar, close to the music. As more listeners filtered in, low and be hold Mr. 4th of July Flirt, saunters in solo. At first it wasn't clear he noticed us at the bar. He worked the room a bit, chatting with friends. draping his arm around women he knew. Clearly a "local".  At some point he sat with friends at a table only a few feet from where we were sitting at the bar.

At about this point Slave elected to go to the men's room. When I returned, I took a gander and across the room and discovered Mr. 4th of July Flirt chatting up Mistress at the bar, in the typical flirtatious style we have all seen. He was leaning against the bar next to her, and they both had that animated look that sends a certain message of mutual attraction.

So what does a good Slave/Cuck do under those circumstances? Mistress had laid out no clear directions for such occasions, and we were with two friends who might think it odd if I just disappeared for the night. I decided to give the two some time together, so worked the room a little myself, chatting with friends at two other tables for about 10 minutes. By then I figured it would seem a little odd if I just stayed away. So I returned to my spouse, taking my seat next to her.  Mr. Flirt greeted me with no clear surprise that Mistress had her boring husband along.  We talked a bit and then he drifted back to his own table.  Slave felt a little guilty about killing this budding flirtation.

Afterwards, Mistress confirmed the obvious.

"He asked me if my husband was here.... when I said yes, he said, it was a shame, because otherwise he would have tried to 'pick me up."

"So what did you say, Mistress?"

"I just laughed, Slave....."

"Well you could have said your husband was immaterial to the issue."

"That's a little awkward, Slave...."

Well, I suppose it is.  He did say he was going to email her about something they had been discussing. So it's possible that can provide an avenue to add some fuel to sustain this flirtation. But my question is this:

What does a good slave/cuck do in this situation?

-Return to his wife and take his place next to her, killing the flirtatious mood?

- Or get lost?

Down By the River

Mistress and Slave got their achy bodies moving again yesterday afternoon with a walk down into the nearby Rio Grande gorge for some "beach time".  There are some natural hot springs at the base of a 1/2 mile trail that winds into the deep, rocky gorge that was the location of a stage coach crossing back in the 1800's. The remnants of an old "spa" form the base for some warm rustic pools on the banks of the River frequented by locals, who always seem to have a couple of dogs with them.  (the pic shows the springs from the trail above.
Mistress and Slave stripped down to their bathing costumes and waded into the cold, soothing river after the hot trek down the old stage coach "road". But when we relaxed on the "beach" with our lunch and our books, the "crowds" (and their dogs) started to arrive. As Mistress tried to relax she was treated on more than one occasion to a large mutt standing just next to her lush body and shaking off the water acquired during a wade through the river.

"Ewwww", was the only appropriate response. For whatever reasons, the dogs were much more interested in shedding their watery weight on Mistress rather than her devoted Slave.  Bummer.

But Slave had his own set of distractions. Two young hippie chicks had arrived (with their two dogs) who quickly relieved themselves of their clothes for all the world (0r at least those of us sharing this tiny beach) to see. This was in the tradition of that scene from Easy Rider, filmed at these springs back in the early 70's, when Dennis Hopper and Peter Fonda "swam" in the nude with two hippie chicks from a local commune.

Slave tried not to ogle as one lady shed her trail clothes and switched into a skimpy bikini.   The other girl just stripped down to some black undies. Other than her very white boobs, the rest of her body seemed to be completely covered by tatoos.  Slave must have "accidentally" captured her image digitally while taking a photo of the river, as she lounged on the luke warm pool with her companion, while her dogs annoyed Mistress

But of course it's not just the ladies who can strut their stuff on (or in) local waterways. Our trip to the river reminded me of one of Mistress AM recent supplicants, someone from not too far away from here, who's "private showcase" demonstrated  a unique approach to fly fishing:

Apparently this guy has a unique "lure" that he thinks will enhance his chance of landing some tasty cut throat trout. The trouble was that the photo is dated as taken in 2002.  He's actually trying to "land" chicks on AM with a 12 year old shot of his ass.

As you might expect, Mistress was not interested in taking the moldy bait.

Slave to the Rescue

I suppose I could have called this post "Sexless Sunday", but then who would have clicked on it?  And yes, drum roll please, Mistress and Slave had no sex on a Sunday for a very long time (maybe a year ago when Mistress traveled to India?) But our excuse was a long hike to the summit of Wheeler Peak, the highest mountain in New Mexico. We had to get a very early start to dodge afternoon thunder storms, which pre-empted our traditional wake-up sex rituals.

The long steep climb was worth it for the amazing views from above tree-line.

It took us about 3 hours to summit.  At the top we chatted with a couple from Santa Fe, who joined us for a bit of the long hike down.  Here is a shot of the trail down, with Mistress in the middle:
 

 But about 2/3 of the way to the bottom, Mistress came up lame. Her old hiking boots had become painful, and her steps became agonizingly slow and ouchy.  That was when Slave did what a Slave should do.

"Mistress, why don't you rest a while..... I'll go get that extra pair of shoes in the car. We'll meet somewhere between here and the bottom."

So Slave went into overdrive. Got to the bottom. Retrieved some more comfortable shoes than her hiking boots, and met her about 1.5 miles from the cute German restaurant at the bottom of the 5 mile trail.

Mistress was tiptoeing down the trail when I found her, and was very happy when she slid out of her apparently dead hiking boots and into her more comfortable exercise shoes. She was even tempted to leave them by trail side, and has sworn an oath never to put them on her feet again. I think I know what she's getting for a birthday present.

"Slave.... I owe you one."

I'm sure I will figure a way to collect.

But it wasn't when we got home. All that climbing on a steep and rocky trail, and the long descent fighting gravity took it's tole. I couldn't even get Mistress to accept some much deserved worship.

"My body is sore Slave.... "

But I have a feeling there will be a full recovery by this morning.

Mistress Enjoys Some Holiday Attention

Mistress got her share of attention from a whole collection of men, and women yesterday.

It started near the end of our bike ride. We stopped by to chat up the local Potter - purveyor to the stars and the "little folk" like us - who was prepping his little store for the big 4th of July Parade crowd. Up rode a tall, fit, gray haired guy on his motorcycle- a friend of our potter - who introduced us. He quickly took a shine to Mistress, and made sure to give her a hug and kiss about 2 hrs later when we encountered him at the parade. It turned out he's a prominent  local businessman, and seemed very pleased that Mistress gave him his card.

"I think he was flirting with me, Slave."

"Of course he was, Mistress. "

The parade was an eclectic mix of the traditional patriotic kitch western style - horses and wagons and old gentlemen playing guitars and singing old Spanish folk songs - along with the eccentric leftie element that co-habits these parts. I particularly enjoyed the "Marriage Equality Wedding Cake" with the matched penguins at the top.

When the parade wound down we followed the crowds to a local restaurant with a big pig roast outside in a sunny plum orchard. There was music and beverages and old friends to share the day with. Later in the afternoon, we walked home and took a nap before joining our next door neighbors for their traditional 4th of July binge. They run a family restaurant a few hours south of here, and whipped up some tangy enchiladas and burritos to go with the Margaritas they were serving.

The lively group was a sprawling family descendent from the original Conquistadors and their hangers on.  We settled onto their rear patio, a lovely garden setting that shares the same mountain views we enjoy, and where we could watch the early evening storm clouds gather over the peeks.

Lots of good natured, tequila fueled ribbing was the nature of the day, involving such things as the proper pronunciation of. "Magdelena".  (Mine wasn't so bad, for a gringo).

All the men - and the ladies too - were fawning over Mistress, from her hair to her eyes to her shoes. (They were too polite to comment on her lush body.) And it would be fair to say she enjoyed the attention.  I was reminded on several occasions how lucky I was to have such a beautiful wife.

As if I didn't know.