Risky Behavior

Here in River City, Slave's biking and a trip up the highway cut into my cage days. Mistress made it clear there would be no excuses on Friday. So I made sure to squish my cock and balls into that hard steel ring that forms the base of my cage before our Friday morning wake up sex.

There was one complication. I had to drop my car off at the garage for some minor repairs. My plan was to stick my bike in the back, then bike the remaining 2/3 of a mile or so to my office.  I figured I could gut through a relatively short ride with my cage on, right?  If anything, Diane would give me a pat on the back!

As it turned out, it was probably a mistake. Perching on that slender saddle with my cock and balls captured in steel was more than a bit ouchy. But risking decockitation I proceeded as best as I could. I suspects drivers and pedestrians seeing me attempt to peddle down the street in a rather bow legged, edge of the seat stance were scratching their heads.

" Who is that old geek on the bike.... didn't his daddy teach him how to ride when he was a kid?"

But I did make it. And even made it back to the garage at the end of the day.

Fortunately, I did have some mid-day entertainment.  When I returned after lunch, Mistress was waiting for me in my office, in the mood for some intimate attention.  Slave gladly scratched that itch as she spread her legs on her "throne" pressed up against my office door.  Unlike Diane and Paul over at A Married Sissy, there is no lock on my office door!

Mistress and slave had a relaxed dinner at a local bourbon joint last night, but this morning there will be no wake-up sex.  Mistress and her lover Jay have finally been able to schedule their own morning booty call.

"I suppose you and I could have sex first, slave.....but I'm not sure that would be fair to Jay....."

No, it doesn't seem right for your long denied lover to get "sloppy seconds" does it. That's what cuckolds are for.

So while Slave will be spending some grandson time, Mistress will be over at Jay's spending some much delayed time with her more athletic lover.

"I think you need to wear your cage while I'm over at Jay's Saturday, slave....."

"Of course, Mistress."

Back to Basics

The voters have spoken. Slave's side won. Now it's time for Mistress and slave to get back to "real life". I suppose it was fortunate the electoral adventures of the last few weeks were a proper "Last Hurrah" rather than a "Last Stand", but the part Mistress likes best is the "Last".

"I've noticed you've not been calling me 'Mistress' as much lately, slave...."

Definitely not a good sign.

So slave has committed to doubling down on being a good slave these next few weeks. And while today may be a challenge (I have to leave for an out of town meeting at 6:30 this morning), I hope to do even more worship and devotion to Mistress to show her that she's still my No. 1 priority.

Plus, as it turns out, it's the healthiest thing to do!  Mistress pointed out this article to me yesterday:
Going Down On Women Is Good For Your Health. Turns out that some high fallutin' researchers have "studied" the issue and verified that treating your babe to some orally induced cums helps fight heart disease and cancer.

So, Terri. It's time to work even harder on those oral servicing skills. Maybe we need to share tips on how best to do our jobs in that "area".

I wonder if we can now get our health insurer to pay me a stipend once I retire?

Male College Student Coerced Into Sex?

It's election day here in River City. Slave has gotten involved in some contentious local ballot issue quarrel, which has Mistress a little less than pleased. And for good reason. It's definitely cut into our private time and adversely impacted my slavish duties to her.  But this too shall pass once tonight's results are in.  

Rest assured that we did get in our wake-up sex yesterday morning, and Mistress also got some pre-dinner worship and a bonus cum after dinner, as we watched Homeland.  So we are keeping up with Terri and Diane over at "A Married Sissy", despite the distractions.

One thing I noticed this morning when I woke was an article in the Huffington Post about hijinks at a certain Midwestern university that I am all too familiar with. Supposedly a sophomore at the University had an academic tutor who somehow persuaded him to have sex with her daughter

A University of Notre Dame student is suing the school and one of its academic coaches, claiming the coach coerced him into having sex with her daughter. 

The academic coach has reportedly been fired amid these allegations, according to the New York Daily News.

The student, an African-American male, claims that his tutor, a white woman, pressured him into having sex with her daughter while "demeaning" him with "racially-charged comments about his sexual prowess and genitalia," according to the lawsuit.

A press release issued Friday by the firm representing the student claimed the unnamed academic coach had a history of arranging sexual encounters with her daughter and other African-American male students and athletes. "When the student repented and began to question the arrangement, he was referred to 'counseling' with a friend of the academic coach, another employee at Notre Dame," the release added.

I suppose this is one of those first world problems that can only be  addressed in our courts. Amazingly, it only gets worse:

The 11-page lawsuit says the student enrolled at Notre Dame in the fall of 2014, and alleges that the coach began providing academic support to the student in the spring of 2015. Immediately, she allegedly initiated a "sexually and racially motived inappropriate and demeaning relationship" and commanded the student to engage in sexual relations with her daughter. The academic coach allegedly provided lodging, condoms and transportation.

Back when I attended this venerable institution -- in the paleolithic pre-co-ed days - the novelty of getting an "academic coach" had not yet been introduced, even for our student athletes. They just got to take an easy geology class, referred to as "Rocks for Jocks" that was closed to the rest of us. 

And the extra perk of getting to have sex with your "academic coach's" daughter would have been unimaginable.  The best one could hope for was that some "towny" might drive by campus, feel some sympathy for you, pick you up and take you into town for a pizza and maybe a make out session in the back of daddy's Studebaker. (Yes, South Bend was the home of the Studebaker. The long dead plant still stands there last time I checked). 

The notion that some uber-dominat tutor  would "command" you to have sex with their horny daughter, and toss in free condoms, lodging and transportation (whether or not a Studebaker) would have been any Domer's wet-dream.

But the Fighting Irish apparently have come a long way. 

Now when your tutor lets you have sex with her daughter,  you lawyer up. 

Lazy, Spooky Saturday.

But for my visit to my aging Mom, and Mistress's simultaneous lunch with her (it's been a while) lover Jay, we had the day to ourselves yesterday.  Our daughter has been working a lot, leaving the nest more empty than not. And after her shift on Saturday, she headed up to her old campus for a sleepover with the boy friend.

"We've got the house to ourselves, slave...."

And we took full advantage.  There was some lazy wake up sex yesterday morning. A bike ride in the afternoon. A nice cozy late afternoon nap, and some worship afterwards.

Around 5:30 pm, we did the short drive to my older daughter's house to witness my grandkids in their cute trick or treat get ups. But I resisted the invitation to join them on their rounds. Been there. Done that.

"That's what parents are for, Mistress....."

Maybe that's bad grand-parenting, but I think our children understand, and appreciate the fact that old Mock and Molly like spending time with themselves.  It could be lots worse, right? Who wants those helicopter grand parents who never go home?

One thing we did not do was dress up in costumes. I suppose we are of the age (slave more so) when Halloween was for kids, not an excuse for adolescents of all ages to dress in some slutty or dorky costumes like our college age kids, and some older friends now do. No, we are old school.  But I suppose if we ever did get persuaded to dress up for some costume party, we could do something like this:

And Mistress would certainly fill out this type of costume nicely:

But, truth be told, we enjoy our private time much more than hanging out with grown ups trying to revisit their childhood trick or treat fantasies.

Back at home, slave whipped up some dinner and we settled into an evening at home, me watching my alma mater eke out another come from behind victory, and Mistress reading her kindle.

She had on some of those sportsy tights - thicker than pantyhose or her typical black tights, but form fitting.  It was a little too tempting for slave when Mistress stretched her feet over my lap, so may hands wandered up her legs, finding the apex of her firm thighs and fondling through the clingy fabric.  It seemed like it only took about 60 seconds before she moaned and bucked with what was likely her 4th cum of the day (at least as far as I knew).

Terri- with October in the books,  you need to focus on setting a better pace for Diane in November or we'll kick your collective asses again!