Week Ending Treat

When it comes to cuckolding, it can be famine or feast.

Poor Mistress had gone several weeks without any sexual variety, relying instead on the ministrations of her lowly slave and his work-a-day cock.

Then the famine ended Wednesday with some epic and certainly more athletic sexual stylings with her lover Jay.

But wait. There's more.

Mistress informed me earlier this week that's she'd heard from K, her side-side dish. He seems to come and go, apparently waiting until his own need for a little but of Mistress's magic becomes unbearable.

"He was rolling out some interesting scenarios by text this week slave.... something about coming over here in the morning right after you're done fucking me.... I think he's into the concept of 'horny Molly who just can't get enough'...."

"Well there is some truth to that, Mistress...."

As it turns out, Mistress has invited K over for a little lunch time distraction today, after she goes to her morning spinning class. K may not get the "freshly fucked Molly". But I guess he could get the salty and tangy Molly if she doesn't take a shower first.

Meanwhile, Slave will be off at work, a bit distracted about what Mistress is up to back in our bed.

It is a good way to start the weekend.

"Epic" Cuckoldry

Slave was at work, my cock languishing in it's cage, when Mistress called from her car at around 3 pm. Out my window the snow had begun falling with a vengeance.

She got to the point quickly.

"It was epic, Slave."

Of course she was referring to her much delayed rendezvous with her lover, Jay. Fortunately, the snow had delayed just long enough for the two of them to squeeze in some "fun and games" before Jay's son's early dismissal from school. 

By the time I got home, the snow was falling hard, filling in the blank spaces in our yard where the snow had finally begun melting yesterday morning.

I found Mistress in bed, already in a sexy nighty. 

She'd had a busy day, after all.

She generously unlocked her slave's cage, springing me loose after a long day on lockdown. Then she directed me to get on task.  I was happy to kneel at the side of the bed, and use my lips and tongue to salve those well used clean shaven folds. But first I asked her to give me a "read out" on her lunch time adventures.

"Jay's so buff and fit these days, Slave.... so it was all a little wild.... him lifting me up, fucking me at the side of the bed, me riding his cock.... he thinks missionary style is kind of boring...."

"Variety is good for you Mistress....."

"It definitely is, Slave...."

As Mistress came to a kinder, gentler cum in response to my worship, she asked "do I taste differently, Slave?"

"Hmmmm..... definitely, Mistress.... a little creamier....it's obvious you've been up to something...."

"I suppose I have, Slave....."

Dear Mick and Molly . . .

It’s Wednesday again, and like last Wednesday, Slave is “cage ready” and Mistress is planning on some mid-day delight with her lover Jay.

Of course, last week things went awry. The heater repair guys dawdled, and poor Mistress was denied her the all access pass to her side dish, failing to break a long draught. She came home very frustrated.

Now, a week later,  both of their calendars have cleared again, but the weather report is ominous. It’s raining here now, but the doomsayers on the TV are predicting another big snow storm this afternoon.

Will Mistress make it to Jay’s?  

Will she get snowed in with him?

If so, will Slave be stuck in his cage overnight if the weather forces them to  go into overtime?

Tune in here in here tomorrow for an update.

But today’s blog is really about a chance for Slave to kibbitz on another one of those advice columnists who just doesn’t get it. You know the drill: silly request for sex advice, to which Mick and Molly provide a more frank and  nuanced response. This one comes from the Washington Post:

Q. Am I a Prude?: I’ve been married happily for more than a decade and my husband and I are in our 30s with young children. We have an active bedroom life, and work together to keep our relationship and love life intact. My husband likes sexting (what man doesn’t?) and I usually don’t. I have to be in the right mood for it, and usually during the day I’m busy with work, errands, etc. I’m uncomfortable sending pictures of myself or saying things I’m not really thinking or feeling. I do indulge when I’m in the right mood, but most of the time when he asks, I just don’t want to! Recently, in a text conversation, he hinted toward it, I changed the topic (my gentle letdown tactic), he asked outright, and I told him to stop pressuring me. He said he didn’t like being accused of pressuring me, and we argued. Is this something I should do as part of my “wifely duties” even though I don’t want to? Is there any way to feel less resentful about it?

Dear Sexted-a-lot:

Well this is one of those first world problems, isn’t it? 

You’re grumpy because your husband of more than a decade still pines for you so much that he wants to telegraph his lust for you , despite  the distractions of his busy work day.  Would you rather get his textual come-ons yourself, or have him discharge his sexual energy on some cutie at work? Maybe you’d prefer him wanking off to sex-blogs like ours? With the threat of censorship lifted, maybe we can post a few more hot photos of Mistress to keep him off your screen.

Wait. Let us guess – you work for Google?

Believe me it could be worse. Mistress not only gets the occasional illustrated sexts from her caged slave, but has to deal with phone calls from Jay, enticing text messages from her side-side dish K, and those facebook messages from her old college lover, begging for revealing photos so he can rekindle old pre-cyber flames.  Somehow she manages to overcome those distractions and get her work done. A little cyber-foreplay can prime the pump for some hands-on action when the dust settles at the end of the day.

If you’d rather dodge your husband’s randy workday missives, maybe you can persuade one of your less busy lady friends to act as your ghost writer. She might actually enjoy it!

But otherwise, buck up, lady. Sometimes you have to take one for the team!

Molly and Mick

Just in case you wanted to know how The Post’s “Prudence” answered this letter, here is her response:

A: For some people one of the pleasures of sex is not having to form coherent sentences. Also, since most of us are bombarded all day with electronic communications, getting demands to write sexy texts, or send risqué photos while at work or at the grocery store, is not an erotic enterprise. You two need to talk this out—and not right after having a spat about it. Tell your husband you want to accommodate his sexual desires, but sex is a mutual enterprise and for you, his enjoyment of sexting feels burdensome, not stimulating. There’s also the issue of your not wanting to get caught doing things during work that could compromise your employment—which also goes for your husband. You both need to understand and accept each other without pressure or resentment, and I hope your husband can openly and sensitively hear you out. (And he better not threaten to take his sexting needs elsewhere!) In any case, if there isn’t an app for this there should be, something with canned phrases (“I can’t wait to get home and see you standing at attention, you big, big …”) you can generate while standing in the check-out line. 

Unruly Neighbors

Mistress and Slave had a relatively low key weekend here in the frozen heartland. There was plenty of time spent in our bed, the electric blanket switched on, as we resorted to our usual methodologies in sharing bodily warmth and fluids.

I even pulled out Mistress's favorite power tool to provide a little extra fun on Sunday morning, for fear that she may have gotten a little tired of Slave's tongues and lips. She seemed pleased, and even asked for my permission to cum.

But the big controversy here in River City this weekend was the disclosure that a new reality show series about 30 something swingers  called "Neighbors With Benefits" was filmed in a conservative, ex-urban neighborhood just a few miles from here. (check out the trailer, in the link)

When the ever-shrinking local paper wrote up the press blurb from A&E and gave it a prominent position above the fold, all sorts of shock and disapproval broke out. And more than a few titters too.

Of course, we've all heard stories of suburban swinger clubs in these parts. Mistress even knows a few people who have attended. But it did seem little odd that the couples across the street or down the cul de sac would come out from behind the hedgerow and go on TV to flaunt their fun.

The particular neighborhood we are talking about sits in what had heretofore been seen as  highly vanilla, Republican and evangelical Christian turf. The sort of place where Romney would have clobbered Obama by more than 2-1 in 2012. In fact, it was the exact place that George Rove told FOX viewers would switch Ohio from Blue to Red at around 10 pm on election night. But it turns out rather than voting they were all sharing the same double wide shower stall.

Maybe they were just embracing the legacy of Mitt's polygamous ancestors?

What got us chattering with out own (non swinging) neighbors was the thought that these fun loving couples would show their faces on national TV,  much to the shock of the folks next store or their kids' friends' parents, presumably for that 15 minutes of fame. And what happens when their own kids get to watch the re-runs someday, all saved on the DVR.

Yikes.

With this taboo put to bed, what can be next?  Maybe we need to pitch a reality show on recruiting a cuckold friendly Dom? It could be one of those "process of elimination" shows like the Bachelor, but with the cucked hubby getting to watch, or provide clean-up services, as his Mistress samples the Alpha chops of her various suitors.

It's just a matter of time.