Tights Season!

Slave had an unscheduled abstinence day on Friday.  And I suspect I should have seen it coming. All that loud and raucous sex I heard coming from the UCTMW executive suite had taken its toll.

"I'm pretty sore after all that hard fucking, slave."

So while slave was allowed to "clean up" after Jay headed home on Friday morning, there was no opportunity for slave to get "sloppy seconds" either Friday morning or at the end of the work day.

"You'll just have to wait until tomorrow morning, slave....."


Maybe I should add some details about our Friday morning after Mistress's sleepover with Jay.  That can be a touchy thing as the three of us wake up and try to pretend that all of this is "normal".  After two rounds of fucking, Mistress came down to greet me with a kiss, and had me brew a latte for her slave, who was still in bed. She dutifully carried my concoction up to her lover.

Slave stayed downstairs, watching the news, in no rush for my morning shower, thereby giving Jay a little extra space to be the temporary "man of the house".  Another 45 minutes or so later, Slave was finishing his corn flakes as Jay and Mistress waltzed downstairs.  Mistress was still in her revealing nightie, but Jay was dressed and ready to go.  The two of us shared some small talk on the overnight political developments, and we viewed a short video on the hijinks at the Al Smith dinner in NYC.  Just two guys shooting the political shit, as you might around the proverbial office water cooler.  If Jay thinks it's odd that I step aside on such nights to allow him free range in the marital bed, he no longer lets on.

Of course, it was back to normal here by Saturday morning.  Mistress was recovered enough to give slave the green light again.  And the wait was certainly worth it.

After a leisurely Saturday morning in bed, our day picked up as slave entertained his cute grandsons for a few hours and Mistress caught up on some work. Then we dressed for a fancy dinner at a downtown restaurant to celebrate the birthday of Mistress's younger sister.  The Dowager Domme was there in all her black finery. But the big fashion statement of the night was the arrival of tights season here in River City.  It was very summer like earlier in the week, but a chill settled in yesterday, forcing Mistress to go to that drawer where she keeps her hose locked away during the warmer months.  As you can see, she had some ankle boots on to go with her black tights.  The fashion statement certainly got slave's motor running, and turned a few male heads when we finished our dinner and ditched the family crowd to stop by a local jazz club to end our evening.  And although we were both tired and a little full after dinner to enjoy some late night nookie, I am most certain that things will be looking up this morning when Mistress wakes from her slumber.

Relegated

I've always enjoyed the way this word is used in the context of the English soccer league. "Relegate" is defined as "consign or dismiss to an inferior rank or position". The concept is that if your home team is fairing poorly in the major league, lingering in the cellar of the standings, the risk is that you will be bounced to an inferior (minor)  league next season. "Relegation" from the Premier league is a fate dreaded by sports fans as the ultimate loss of communal pride. When the sad, pitiful fate of relegation befalls your team, it gets the competitive juices flowing with a focused determination to  get back to the Bigs after a sad season swimming with the other losers in the lower tier. (It's something we could use in our nation's professional and collegiate leagues, where some teams become perpetual cellar dwellers with no apparent incentive to improve and become competitive, let alone champs.)

But at this moment the terms applies to your humble slave. I'm definitely relegated to the minors this morning.

Jay, Mistress's recently missing lover, finally made his way here last night. We went out to dinner for some Vietnamese in a funky downtown joint, then returned here, where the two lovebirds were soon headed to bed in the "UCTMW executive suite".  Slave took the adjoining bed in our daughter's room.

My sense is that there wasn't much action last night.

But this morning....  as I've been catching up on the news downstairs, I've heard the rather avid, accelerating  moans of my wife as Jay has been pounding into her in these pre-dawn hours.

They now seem to be in round two.

And while Jay has never been interested in inviting slave in on the action, there is a certain sexual buzz   in hearing your wife moaning in the throes of passion as the floor shakes a bit above your head. Definitely a good way to start the morning for my wife and her on again, off again lover.  But I have a feeling that slave will not have the chance for his own fun until after work tonight, at the earliest.

Can I hear a "poor slave"?  

The good news is that "I'll be back" sooner than the following season.

Bad Hombres

Here in River City, in the heart of "swing state" country, Mistress and slave are counting the minutes until this long and ugly political campaign finally ends. So desperate are we to tune it out that we plan to leave the country for the last 10 days of the campaign. At least we can get in the front of the Q for political asylum if things go badly, right?

But of course, we couldn't look away from last night's train wreck of a final debate. And snickered when Mr. Trump warned of all those "bad hombres" he was going to track down and deport.  Was he talking about these guys.

Of course, Mistress has had a few "bad boy" suitors on AM who purport to be "doms", but they tend to melt away when Mistress declines to engage in on-line smut talk before any face to face encounter.

"I think some of these guys are just into the cyber-thrill slave...all talk and no spanking!"

SAdly, the Donald's slur of immigrants from south of the border was quintessentially sexist. Slave would be more interested in hearing about all those Mal Chicas free ranging here until he builds that big assed wall. Like this one on the left.

 Finally, without wanting to get anyone's hopes up, there is a rumor that Mistress's long lost lover Jay will be coming by tonight. Should he actually materialize, there are plans for dinner out (the three of us) and a sleepover after, with slave consigned to one of our daughter's rooms. But lets not get our hopes up.

What Losing Streak?

It was a relatively rare activity free weekend at home for Mistress and slave, after what seems like a lot of travel so far this fall, with more to come.

And while Slave's football teams both collapsed in the 2nd halves this weekend, maybe their lack of success was a counter-indicator of what was in store for slave in the sack.

I definitely "scored", both on defense and offense.

Saturday started as normal, with some gratifying wake up sex, and a bike ride.  Then slave was off for some time with my cute grandkids.  We both ended up back in the sack by late afternoon.  But after our nap, Mistress was definitely feisty.

"Get out my supplies slave....."

I retrieved her strap on, the faux cock and lubricant for her use.

"What about the riding crop, slave?"

Hmmmm..... how had I forgotten that?  In fact she found it in the closet herself, and required slave to assume the position that made my aging ass available for her use, and abuse.

"I'm not sure what this punishment is for slave....maybe just a deterrant for future bad behavior?"

She lit into my bottom with about 10 robust strokes that had me squiriming and whining by the time she was done.

"Aww, poor slave....I think you'll survive...."

No doubt, my bottom was red and tender, but hardly harmed.  And it got my submissive juices flowing for what came next.

Mistress lubed up her "tool" and went to work, sliding onto the bed behind my prone body and (with a little help from me) bringing her tool to bear on her slave's rear entrance.

She was soon pumping into me, slowly but surely building to her own cum, collapsing onto me, then returning to a slow churning rythmn that seemed to delivery another follow up orgasm before she came to rest on top of her well pegged slave.

When she caught her breath, she pulled out, slid out of her harness and gave her slave direction to insert my aneros. Then it was my turn to do the plunging until we were both sweaty and satisfied.

I returned the favor Sunday morning by deploying Mistress's favorite power tool to give her a nice powerful cum that preceded more conventional love making.

So with all that sexual action, I can simply ignore the pitiful seasons my alma mater and the Pussycats are putting together, and look forward to ski season!