Mystery Man Surfaces

UCTMW went "off line" for a few hours yesterday, which I will explain shortly.  But first a little update on our busy Sunday.

After wake-up sex and a bike ride, we actually spent a day to ourselves, without family or work duties to pull us away. We spent a few hours sorting through the detritus off loaded from our storage unit last Sunday. Lots of lovely family photos we have no room to display. Plus a trove of Mistress's adolescent poetry. Maybe we should post them here as bog-fodder?  I also found my grandfather's WW I helmet, and a flat autographed football from an ND fullback long past his prime. I mean, are there fullbacks any more?

Our evening was spent at an outdoor concert by a favorite local band with a bit of a national reputation. Here's a video. Slave must confess he thinks the lead singer is hot. There was an eclectic Portlandia style crowd, on a steamy summer evening, and a picnic dinner for Mistress and Slave to share on our blanket up close to the music.

 I needed to pick something up from my office, so after the concert, sun setting, we stopped by my perch looking over the City. I think I surprised Mistress when I offered to worship, but she's not one to say "no" when it comes to intimate attention to those clean shaven folds. She pulled up her short sun dress, wriggled out of her black panties, and allowed Slave to savor  the mingled sweet and salty essence of Mistress's arousal after a long evening in the sun..... yum.

I think Mistress enjoyed my attention almost as much as I did serving her. Plus she didn't even have to take her sandals off.

Yesterday's  blog security issue arose when one of Mistress's AM suitors used some rather persistent investigative skills to suss out both this blog, and then Mistress's "secret identity". This is a fellow who came knocking on her AM inbox last week while Slave was on the left coast. His interest in playing the Dom role got me to exercise my prerogative as Mistress's corresponding secretary to get some details, and then provide Mistress's email address for direct communications.  But this clever fellow - we will call him D - was resourceful enough to discover the blog, and piece together the mystery of Molly's "real life" name.  And he insisted on protecting his own identity until they met. This was outside Mistress's typical AM protocol, but the fellow seemed interesting and amusing enough to make her take the risk.

Mistress agreed to meet him in public at a nearby coffee joint, but she did have some trepidation, particularly when he let it drop that he knew her real name .  Was this guy someone we knew? Maybe someone she had interviewed and rejected under a different name? Would he be the type who would blow our cover? Or was he just as paranoid as us?

His shabby spelling, despite his claim to be a health care professional, had us wondering if the WC was pulling Mistress's leg.

I suppose we could have taken the sort of precautions that Michael Corleone used in the Godfather, strapping a pistol in the toilet tank  before the big "meet", just in case Mistress needed to resort to extraordinary measures.

"Wait a minute while I powder my nose, D."

Then - ka-boom. Mistress drops the pistol on the floor, strolls out the door, and hides out in Italy for a couple of years before things "cool off" in River City.

But that's not really the way we roll here at UCTMW.

It's only a sex blog, right?

But as it turned out, D and Mistress seemed to hit it off pretty well. She texted me that things were OK, and that the cavalry did not need to be called. D had done his homework and turned out to be a big blog fan, with lots of questions about Mistress's  past adventures.

"He really laughed at the guy from your alma mater who had the same cock that you do, Slave...I had forgotten about that one...."

Now that is an obscure piece of UCTMW trivia.

D is about 10 years younger than Mistress. And tall.

"Sounds like the cougar thing may be back, Slave...."

He even brought Mistress a gift, showing an eye for a color she prefers. What do you think?

And they were trading text messages last night before bedtime, allowing us to shut down the AM profile which had been their only means of communications.

All in all, D seemed to make a nice first impression.

"He wants to meet you too Mick."

I look forward to it.

Plans are for a dinner here at the UCTMW World HQ when we get back from our trip later this week to our SW hideaway.

Reunited

It did feel so good. Back in our empty nest with the lovely Mistress. Allowed to worship at the junction of her well toned and muscular thighs. Then rewarded with the opportunity to take my pleasure after having provided a sufficient starter cum of suitable dimensions.

And of course some bracing wake-up sex friday morning before heading back to the office.

Last evening we enjoyed some jazz at a local park, Mistress drawing some stares of desire from some of the guys in the crowd, which her Slave always finds entertaining. There were even some surreptitious text messages to her from one of her recent AM suitors to entertain her between sets.

Today will be a little more scheduled though. I will be entertaining my two cute grandkids for a while. Then dinner with my cranky mother in honor of her birthday.

And there are some big plastic tubs of "stuff" to unload, all the detritus we had parked in a storage unit when we put the former UCTMW World HQ on the market last spring. Slave wonders if Mistress may need to recruit additional Slaves to muscle it all up two flights into our overstuffed attic.  Hopefully we can cull it all down into something more manageable?

And of course a good deal of that attic contents are the things left behind by daughters who can't seem to let go. Maybe they should take the questionnaire summarized below:

At least we're not storing their children.

Bay Left Behind

Slave is waiting here at the SFO airport, having wolfed down a breakfast burrito before boarding a plane headed west. I must say I am horny and looking forward to my reunion with the lovely Mistress Molly.

After my work was done yesterday morning, I had time to rent a bicycle and rode the system of bike trails across the Golden Gate and to Tiburon. Unfortunately, I did not have the time or address that would have allowed me to look up my favorite kinky writer, Ann Rice, who I believe has relocated there from NOLA.

All of the overtly sexy sights and sounds of the City did not ease my longing for Mistress.  There was this fetchingly attired  mannequin in the window of Agent Provacateur on Geary St.

And who could not think of kneeling before Mistress and massaging (or kissing) her well manicured feet when I saw this sign off of Polk St. on my way toward the waterfront by bike yesterday.

One of the more frustrating aspects of being Mistress's corresponding secretary, monitoring the ins and outs of her AM profile is that when we go on the road, the system must create the impression that Mistress is now a denizen of not only the town she is visiting, but all sorts of other places. And in this case, while she remained at home, her Slave made the mistake of monitoring from the left coast. Suddenly she was innundated with more than 100 private showcase requests, and quite a few articulate entreaties from the Bay area. All that makes clear that the pool of applicants in River City is much less diverse and appealing than what a woman with an itch to cuckold her husband can access on the coast.

There was a guy staying at a nearby hotel who sent his text number in case Mistress wanted to get together for a drink.

And there was this guy from Sausilito who sent a long message that I am sure Mistress might have found intriguing, if only to check out his view:


Hello Molly. Yes, I am highly selective. I have wasted a fair amount if time lately seeking women who "get it" - who are appreciative of what I bring to the table as a lover and friend. 

Any time I am with a woman I like, whether in bed or anywhere else, she will be the absolute center of my attention. She will feel absolutely adored and desired. She will know that by the way I look at her, the way I touch her, and the words I use to express my appreciation for her. No matter how handsome and successful a man is, it is imperative that he understand that the pleasure he gains from his woman is proportional to the pleasure he provides her. He must be skilled at reading her cues and navigating the paths to her centers of desire. He must understand and accept the fact that women are wonderfully complex, mysterious creatures and be able to understand that what stimulates her today may be a total turn off tomorrow - unless he realizes that she may want him to make the effort - and have the talent - to seduce her, to gently but firmly take lead her to a place of arousal. E must know when to cede control, and when to take it, when to follow her cues, and when to bend her to his will. 

I am that man.


I wonder who he uses to ghost write his material?

Sadly, Mistress did not score while I was away. She will have to make do with her work-a-day cock this evening, if all goes well and thunderstorms at O'Hare don't intrude.

Out on the Left Coast

No sooner had we emptied out our nest on Monday - delivering our senior cute Co-Ed to her campus with a truck load of "important things",  than Slave had to take a short business trip to the left coast. I will just be away for two nights in the town Tony Bennett made famous. But those are two nights I could have been worshipping Mistress in the manner in which she is entitled, without the need to squelch our moans of delight.

I have heard that she has been 1) chatting up a new suitor from AM; talking to Mr. Perfect Cock, who suddenly got in touch, and flirting with some guy at our swim club after doing laps. So while Mich is away, Mistress has been fully exercising her contractual rights.

It's only fair.

Can't wait to get home and find my place between her thighs on Thursday afternoon.