Back to the Grind

Mistress and slave made it back to River City on Tuesday night, after a long reluctant drive home.
As you might expect, we encountered the typical hassles of re-emersion in our work lives. There was plenty of pent up paper and emails from clients and colleauges  wondering where the fuck we were for so long.

The bonus is that we have our empty nest back here in town, allowing for some less restrained wake up sex these last few mornings, and some more leisurely worship at the end of our day.

So far there is no entry on what Terri over at A Married Sissy refers to as the "Cuckold Calendar", although Mistress did lunch with Jay yesterday. His child care issues remains an impediment to the sort of flexibility that makes for good cuckolding. And while Mistress enjoys spending chaste time with Jay, what really is the point of that?

"If it comes to just enjoying lunch and talking about the news of the day, slave, I'd rather do it with you", she commented last evening after I polished off some post workday worship.

Clearly, Jay can have a role in her life, but it might not be as a lunch companion!

Hopefully the two of them can work out some time together, or Mistress's roving eye may begin looking elsewhere.

Final Daze

Mistress and slave are in mourning.

It's our last day at our SW hideway until ski season arrives in December.  And worst of all, the weather here remains glorious.  Why leave cloudless skies and 78 degree temperatures for a long drive back to the drudgery of River City?

We started our last day with the deployment of Mistress's favorite power tool, as a prelude to more conventional fucking.

Then there was a brisk ride on our bikes before we squirreled them away inside, out of the elements for the winter season.

After our ride, Mistress whipped up some scrambled eggs, which she enjoyed with locally crafted muffins and peach jam.

Then we adjourned to our sun drenched patio, still waiting for a cloud to pick up.

Slave has worked his way through the NY Times, listening to the Pussycats battle fruitlessly (so far) against the dreaded Stillers. Mistress was taking one last chance to eliminate those pesky tan lines.

As the third quarter came to an end, my team was still 8 points behind, and I was looking for the sort of superstition based Karma that might give the Pussycats a little extra juice for another come from behind victory. What was missing? A lucky hat? A team t-shirt?

Then it occurred to me -- last week I deployed Mistress's favorite power tool to give Mistress a bonus cum at half time.  The Pussycats then came from behind to beat the Jets. Was it too late?  As the third quarter would down in the rain in Pittsburgh, slave retrieved the hitachi from our bedroom drawer, hooked it to the extension cord on our porch and went to work.

Mistress seemed pleased, but a little impatient.

"I thought you'd forgotten, slave....."

While it seemed unlikely that the Pussycats will pick up the good luck "vibe" from so far away, at least Mistress seemed happy with the extra afternoon orgasm.

Taking the Waters

Our late summer getaway is getting away from us.  With all that music, sex and cycling time has flown and we are looking into the dark abyss of the long drive back to the heartland on Monday morning.

There have been some lovely sunsets, chances  to catch up on our reading, a little too much nagging from clients and colleagues back in the real world, and, of course, some hearty sex.

Yesterday we headed over to a rustic hot springs for a day in the sun and soaking in the bubbling brew running down from the mountains. It was a spot discovered by the natives who first settled in these parts centuries ago, and now is almost a little too plush.  The springs were surprisingly crowded for a week day post labor day.  I guess there are lots of retired folks (like I will be at the end of the year) or those with "flexible" work hours who have a Thursday free for soaking and sunning.

As always, and despite her 50 years, Mistress was at the top of the heap when it came to catching the eye of her fellow soakers. But unlike one earlier mission there, we did not book a private nook for nude sunbathing.  Instead Mistress was burdened with her black two piece, that probably brought back some of those receding tan lines.  The horror!

Back at our house, we enjoyed some sunset reading and an al fresco dinner.

Not a bad life, even if Mistress has been forced to get by with slave's work-a-day cock these last two weeks without a side-dish.

Bonobos Figure It Out

Mistress and slave actually took a night off from the local music scene last night. Six nights on the town in a row meant it was time for a low key “staycation” watching the sunset as we dined al fresco on our patio. We were even too lazy for TV, resorting to some reading side by side in bed and an early curtain call.

Rest assured we got our daily sexual rituals in though. Mistress has been refreshing her cock riding skills since we dropped our Domme in Training off at the airport a week ago.  Mistress seems not to have missed a beat.  And of course, slave is happy to be ridden hard and put up wet, like one of the local ornamental horses Mistress admires on our morning bike ride.

But today’s blog picks up on a post several days ago by Terri over at “A Married Sissy” on the prospects of a more female dominant society.  It turns out that the the lady bonobos of the Congo have figured it out, according to this article in the New York Times. In the Bonobo World, Fem#9AA7F5.

The article describes how female bonobos will join forces to put overly aggressive males in their place, assuring that the guys quickly get in line and defer to their ladies’ leadership. While other primates are male dominant, the Bonobos have taken a different path:

In the bonobo world, by contrast, female camaraderie prevails, while the bonds between males are weak. “It’s a matriarchy,” said Amy Parish, a primatologist at the University of Southern California. “Females are running the show.”

The interesting twist is that with the ladies in charge, sex appears to be a very high priority:

Bonobos are famed for their hypersexuality and the way they use sex as an all-purpose problem solver in every possible situation, permutation and combination. When bonobos come upon a great patch of fruit, for example, and tensions rise over feeding priority, the bonobos will decompress with a quick round of genito-genital rubbing and similar acts: males with females, males with males, females with females, juveniles with adults.

Female bonobos in Congo’s LuiKotale forest use specialized gestures and pantomime to convey their desire for a bit of girl-on-girl frottage, according to a report last year by Pamela Douglas and Liza Moscovice of the Max Planck Institute for Evolutionary Anthropology in Germany. The soliciting female will point backward with a foot toward her sexual swelling and then shimmy her hips in imitation of a rub, at which display the second bonobo will embrace her for the real thing.

“It’s status acknowledgment,” said Barbara Fruth, a bonobo researcher at the Royal Zoological Society in Antwerp, Belgium. “The approaching female is saying, ‘I know you’re higher-ranking than I am, I know you’re superior, but I would like to sit near you and maybe share your food.’”

Bonobos tongue-kiss, practice oral sex, have intercourse face-to-face, and make sex toys. Frances White, a biological anthropologist at the University of Oregon, once watched a female bonobo turn a stick into a kind of knobby “French tickler,” with which she then stimulated herself. “They’re not always family friendly,” Dr. White said.

Such erotic antics have earned bonobos a reputation as laid-back “hippie apes,” a label that researchers say belies the primate’s strategic intelligence and capacity for brutality. Dr. Parish, who studies bonobos in captivity, has seen the young offspring of dominant females flaunt their inherited power by marching over to lesser-ranking female adults, prying their jaws open and extracting the food from their mouths.

She also recounted the time that two females attacked a male at the Stuttgart Zoo in Germany and bit his penis in half. Fortunately, she said, “a microsurgeon at the zoo was able to repair the damage, and the male went on to reproduce.”

If bonobos have a penchant for sex toys, you have to wonder how long it will take for them to improvise some sort of “cock cage” to keep their males in line, as Diane does so will with Terri.  Certainly that is a more merciful remedy than having your cock bitten in half. Plus my guess is that it’s hard to come up with a good micro-surgeon in the bush.