Back In Her Cowgirl Groove

Rest assured that Mistress and slave have gotten their mojo back now that our nest has been re-emptied and we are safely ensconced in our SW hideaway.  Mistress freely exercised her right to some robust cock riding both Thursday and Friday mornings.

"It's nice to be able to do it with the doors open again, slave...."

"And not having to stifle, Mistress....."

The weather has been glorious, with cloudless skies and temperatures in the 70's. And while Mistress has not had time for any nakers sunning, we have been enjoying a late summer music festival here in our little town, with singer songwriters from Texas and other parts entertaining the eclectic crowd. The festival is in a local park where the town's most famous native son is buried.


I did confirm the thesis that "cargo shorts" are the choice for guys of a certain age here in the SW, as shown by this beer sipping member of the audience:


And no, that's not me!  Mistress would never allow her slave to wear sandals in public!

More interesting are the outfits of the ladies.  Mistress opted for the jeans and boots look on Thursday, accessorized with some of her native jewelry:



You can tell the festival goes for the cowboy vibe by planting some hay bales around the grounds for those who want to sun away from the stage.

But we found it was too dang hot for jeans in Thursday. slave opted for shorts yesterday (non-cargo).  And Mistress went for a floaty skirt and some sandals, allowing all of us to appreciate those polished to a gloss toes.  Don't they just make you want to fall to your knees and suckle?

Sadly, the one thing missing is an extracurricular lover.  We've never been successful in recruiting a "local" though there has been a little flirtation from time to time.  Of course, Mike, our erstwhile Western Correspondent just 5 hrs. up the road never got it together to make a road trip.  And Mistress's "Mountain Man" is more fantasy than reality. Plus he's always off climbing some danged mountain!

As for Jay, he's sulking a bit back in River City.  First there was the daughter clinging to Mistress side for a month. Then out exit stage west.

"I think he's annoyed with me slave....he said 'I'm always disappearing'".

I can see his concern.  But oddly he's been texting me about silly political developments.  But not a word to Mistress.

"I guess that's proof he's sulking, slave...."

Somehow I think he'll come around once Mistress is back in town.   In the meantime, I guess all we can do is find a comfy bale of hay, kick back and enjoy the music, and our re-emptied nest.

Washington Post Gets Kinky

Mistress and slave are sitting here at DFW. Our lovely daughter is in DC, boarding her flight to
"the Continent". We had a melancholy parting back at the River City airport around 2 pm, as we headed west and she headed east.  She confirmed via text that it "wasn't that bad being home".

And while I've been whining about our infested nest, it is a little sad to see her heading off again for another tour of duty in Europe, where she will no doubt be exposed to the threat of terrorism and the temptations of all that high alcohol content Belgian ale.

We plan to recover from the whole daunting affair with some time in our SW hideaway. And while Mistress may be sans alpha lover for another 14 days or so, I will try to make it worth her while.

But in the meantime, as I was scanning the Washington Post for the latest dreary political developments I stumbled across this illustrated  article about the recovery of some Irving Klaw photos of the legendary Betty Page -- including some hot bondage shots. It turns out that Mr. Klaw had his own tormenters in Congress, just as Mrs. Clinton has now. But the fact one of the nation's most main stream media outlets will now publish bondage imagery suggests that kinksters have come a long way.

Either that or Jeff Bezos, the Post's owner and Amazon kingpin is  one kinky dude!

Lazy Labor Day Weekend

Mistress and slave are running out the clock on our shared habitation with our lovely youngest daughter. Our wake-up sex rituals and afternoon worship sessions are still subject to the "run silent, run deep" rule, since the Domme in Training rarely leaves her room unless we take her out for yet another meal.

(She claims that when in Europe she prepares many of her meals at home, so eating out is a "treat". Somehow slave is skeptical. In the meantime, my Amex card is getting a workout, and my waistline is expanding!)

But there is hope!  Her long term visa has come through, and she is scheduled to return to "The Continent" come Wednesday. Mistress and slave are wasting no time, and will be traveling to the airport with her to catch our own flight west, to enjoy the final days of summer at our SW hideaway.

And while it's been nice to spend some quality feed bad time with our youngest, we also miss our ability to conduct our sex life without the encumbering veil of silence. And that includes Mistress's freedom to engage in some extracurricular fun too!  It's going on a month since she's been able to exploit her cuckoldress privilege!  I have a feeling Jay could use some Mistress time too.

In the meantime, Slave will resort to some visual stimulation as a cheap but gratifying substitute for  raunchy prose. Mistress was taking a nap yesterday afternoon after a few hours at the swim club in its final summer weekend. When I came up after tending to the salmon slowly smoking in our yard, I discovered her snoozing au naturale. As you can see, those tan lines have made a comeback in the last month. She's got some work to do on our high desert patio starting Thursday.

Cuckold Interruptus

The good news here is that Mistress is now back on our bed. Wednesday evening was our big reunion.

When I arrived home from work I wasted little time closing the door, and putting some "passion masking" music on the radio in our room to spare our daughter in the bedroom next door the sound of her desperate father enjoying his opportunity for some "real" sex after several days of the bogus kind.

Of course, Mistress has had plenty of her slave's workmanlike sexual attention these last few weeks. But she's been missing the tongue, cock and exertions of her more alpha lover Jay because of the vagabond daughter camping out here since early August. While they were able to act like casual friends at lunch last week in front of her, it might be hard to explain an hour squirreled away in our bedroom.  Plus I am not confident that Jay could "run silent, run deep" in a way that could mask their carnal fun from curious ears in the house.

We thought last evening would be her / their  big opportunity.  I arranged to take our nest crasher out to the Pussycats' final "exhibition" (aka practice for guys who won't be on the roster by Sunday) game, so Mistress could have an un-quiet evening at home in our marital bed with Jay.

But all my devious planning was for naught.

"His babysitter fell through, Slave", reported a crestfallen Mistress when I got home yesterday afternoon.

Bummer.  So much for my devious planning. And now I was stuck going to a game where the primary objective seemed to be to use players you never heard of who's mission was to generate some video tape that might catch the eye of some desperate coach in the Canadian football league.

When we got home after 3 quarters of fruitless on-field mediocrity from C-list players that had generated a 3-3 tie, Mistress was tucked away in bed. For all I know, the orgasms I had delivered in our Thursday morning wake-up sex were the only ones she enjoyed all day long.

Poor Mistress!   I'll try to make amends this weekend.  I may have to volunteer to be Jay's babysitter.