Cunilingus Cam ?

Mistress and slave were taken aback Monday by the hordes of Texans that had descended on our cozy ski mountain for their "spring break".  Taking a look at some of the kids and their parents that were crowding the trails and restaurants, it seemed to me that the last thing those kids needed was a "break" from whatever rudimentary education the Lone Star state might bother to provide as an excuse to field high school football teams.

But I guess my regional prejudices are showing.

In any event, that was simply a prelude for explaining that we decided to take our own "spring break" from skiing yesterday, enjoying an unseasonably warm summer like day on our "spread" here on the cusp of the Sangre de Christo mountains.

With some company showing up here later in the week, Mistress fully exploited her opportunity to collect some rays au naturale, leading to this appealing photo.

It's been a long winter and She's not yet achieved that overall bronze look. Just give her some time.

Since the weather was so accommodating, we avoided our late afternoon nap in our bed, leaving slave at a loss as to where I should perform my afternoon service of her clean shaven folds.

Which provided another photo op.  Up on the mountain, we sometimes poke fun at the folks who obsessed with making a visual record of their  alpine exploits. There are the folks with the video cameras hooked to their helmets. Are their pals really anxious to see a Facebook video of their latest downhill run from the skier's perspective.

Then their are the skiers with the selfie sticks extended in front of them as they take turns down the mountain. Watch our for that pole!

So as I knelt at the end of her chaise and slid betwixt her naked, spread thighs yesterday afternoon, Mistress asked for my camera.  The result was a closeup that is a little hard to make out. That's my hat in reverse (trying to avoid a burn on my balding skull), and you can see Mistress's spread thighs a bit.  Maybe a video next time?

Peg O' The West

Was it the full moon that brought out the wilder side of Mistress on Sunday?

We had some rather robust wake-up sex Sunday morning, featuring some rather rowdy riding of slave's rejuvenated cock.

"You seem back to normal now, slave....", she sighed finally coming to rest after a few well earned cums for her and one very satisfying one for her devoted slave. A month after my surgical repairs, slave does seem to have resumed my normal, if aging level of sexual proficiency.

After breakfast, we headed up the mountain to  sunny ski slopes and another day in our local paradise, fighting the crowd of Texans who have arrived for spring break. After getting our quota of runs, it was back to our cozy hideaway, with lunch and a pre-dinner nap on the agenda.

But when we woke up Mistress was no longer in a somnolent mood.

"I think it's time I fucked you in the ass, slave....."

"Hmmmmm....."

I was told to gather her supplies, and, "resigned to my fate", set about gathering up her harness, it's phallic accessory, and our container of baby oil gel.  Mistress mulled whether the deployment of her strap on should be preceded by a ritual cropping.

"I'm having trouble coming up with a good reason to punish you, slave...."

"Not even some trumped up charges, Mistress?

"No, you've been pretty well behaved lately...."

So Mistress spared the rod, and decided to cut to the chase.  Like a good slave, I promptly assumed the desired position.  That drew a chuckle from Mistress.....

"Why look at you....no foreplay?  Just roll over and present your ass, slave?....."

"I'm just anticipating your desires, Mistress.... isn't that what I'm supposed to do?"

Apparently I had a point, because Mistress climbed onto the bed behind me, and was promptly on task, making sure that her "aim was true" then quickly picking up the pace as she plunged in and out of slave's welcoming orifice.  She built herself into quite a frenzy before collapsing onto be, spent and satisfied with a rather dramatic late afternoon sexual release.

Of course, slave was not yet "fulfilled", though I was certainly worked up in response to her stimulation.  I was told to insert my "device" (the aeros) and then as Mistress rolled onto her back, enjoyed the opportunity to plunge her work-a-day cock with reckless abandon into those succulent clean shaven folds.

It was a "two-a-day" worthy of the full moon in a big western sky.

Life On the Mesa

Mistress and slave have been enjoying our kids free time out here in the high desert. There has been plenty of skiing, beautiful sunsets, lots of wake up sex and evening worship, some afternoon sunning on our patio, and even a few opportunities for Mistress to receive the flirtatious attention of some locals.

Take Wednesday morning.  We were waiting in the ski valley parking lot for the "cattle car" to haul us ip the hill to the base area, when a short wiry fellow in a ski helmet walked by and said "good morning" to Mistress.

I heard the voice and spoke up.

"Is that Gary Johnson?"

He turned and confirmed that he indeed was the 3rd party Presidential candidate who had a brain cramp when asked about "Aleppo" back in the fall, a faux paux that probably helped put a certain orange hued pussy grabber in the White House. We chatted a bit with Gary - a low key guy who has climbed the Seven Summits and was an early advocate of legal pot.

"You have such white and shiny teeth", Gary told Mistress, clearly dazzled.

Then last night we went to a local "Hoedown" to benefit the Ski Patrol, those rugged guys who come to the rescue of stricken skiers or otherwise distressed damsels. While Mistress has never required "rescue" I suspect she wouldn't mind being strapped down to one of those sleds by some rugged ski patroller and hauled away to some mountain hut for a more detailed examination of her "injuries".

As we drove up to the high mesa brewery where the party was held, I asked Mistress if she wanted to enter on her own and have me watch from afar was she flirted with the assembled crowd of rugged mountain men.

"Oh slave.... that would be so slutty......"

So we entered together, and I offered to fetch us drinks ... as a good slave would do.  Mistress had on some flashy turquoise jewelry, a sexy black dress with tights, and boots. She was already turning heads as I left her to her own devices and headed to the bar.

  It took maybe 10 minutes for me to wade up to the bar and grab a beer for me and a glass of chardonnay for Mistress.  Glasses in hand, I turned back into the crowd to track down Mistress. Ultimately, I found her leaning against the sound board stand, being chatted up by --- you guessed it ---- a rugged looking bearded fellow in a ski patrol hat.  As I approached with her drink, the guy (sadly) took the message and backed away, joining some friends at a nearby table.  He was clearly disappointed, thinking Mistress was solo, and not tied down by some boring older gent.

As I stood next to Mistress, I raised an eyebrow.

"So what was that about Mistress...."

"Oh he was just making conversation slave.... said he'd never been to this event before....."

"I think he was bummed when I showed up....."

She just giggled.

"You may be right, slave....."

So dear readers, what's the proper cuckold protocol in that situation..... Should I not have interfered? Or would it have been rude to withhold Mistress's drink and leave her to her conversation with Mr. Ski Patrol?

Sex Strike?

Mistress and slave had a bit of a contrarian reaction to yesterday’s “Women’s Strike”. Women were supposed to show their political solidarity by withholding their labor, paid or volunteer, to show the world how they’d be missed if not around.

Well of course, we know how much women would be missed. And, unlike immigrants, no one is trying to show them the door. But it seemed a little counterproductive to make the women who could not afford (or didn’t have) a sick day to stay home with their kids, because the local school district’s teachers did not show up for work. 

Should Ruth Bader Ginsburg take the day off on the Supreme Court for an important vote or hearings?  

What about those female immigration lawyers trying to protect moms from deportation by Mr. Trump’s newly empowered ICE goons? 

Or Moms making lunch for their kids?

Of course, Mistress could have afforded to take the day off. She has a slave to handle pesky household chores. Even making a cup of tea would seem to violate the bizarre strike protocol. But she did not avoid calls from clients yesterday who needed her help. And thank god for that. Now that I’m retired someone has to support me in the manner to which I have grown accustomed, right?

But there maybe something more sinister here. Are America’s women on a stealth sex strike?

I’m referring to a recent report in the Washington Post (linked here ) documenting an horrific decline in sexual activity by American adults, particularly married couples.

Among all American adults, sex was “had” 60-62 times per year in the 1990’s. But that declined to less than 53 times / yr. by 2014.  Barely once per week!

The rate of decline was even worse if you were married. You’d assume married folks had more sex than unmarried folk right? And they did in the 1990’s, at the rate of 73 times/wk. But by 2014, married folks were having sex only 55 times / week – barely once / week and not much more than the general adult population’s nookie rate of 53 times / wk.

It gets worse for folks in my age bracket. If you’re in your 20’s you have sex about 80 times / yr. But by the time you are in your 60’s the average rate is only a pathetic 20 times a year – only 1.6 times / month.

Apparently, Mistress and I are outliers. While we don’t keep a daily log like some of you, my “back of the envelope” estimate is that in the last year we’ve had full blown marital sex here in UCTMW land about 306 times (that’s about 6.5 times a week over 48 weeks, taking into account 4 weeks when we may have been away from each other, and maybe one day every other week when had an “abstinence” day for some odd reason or another.). Of course, that does not include times when Mistress had sex with another lover (maybe 10-15 times) or oral worship of Mistress, which certainly totals in the hundreds.

But what explains why the rest of you are so far behind our pace?

“The report did not list causes for the decline. But it cited possible factors including increased access to entertainment and social media, a decline in happiness among people age 30 and over, higher incidence of depression, and use of antidepressants associated with sexual dysfunction.

“Are they less happy and thus having less sex, or are they having less sex and therefore less happy? It’s probably some of both,” said Jean M. Twenge, the study’s lead author, who teaches psychology at San Diego State University and wrote “Generation Me,” a book about millennials. “We do know that sexual frequency is linked to marital satisfaction, so overall if you have fewer people having sex, you could have people who are less happy and less satisfied with that relationship.”

The decline in sexual activity was sharpest among people in their 50s, people with a college degree, people with school-age children, people in the South and those who do not watch pornography. It was less pronounced among younger people, men, nonwhites, people with children under 6, people in the West and those who had watched a pornographic movie in the past year.”

So maybe one prescription for this malaise it to move to a western state and watch porn?

But as I think about it, there may be another explanation for this seemingly sad decline in marital intercourse.

Could the popularization of the  cock cage as a way for a wife to better control her husband account for the decline in sex among married folks?  Are there hundreds of thousands of married women who keep their husbands on lock down for most of the month? Certainly our friends Terri and Diane have found a fulfilling sex life that features very little actual marital intercourse? Maybe the study doesn’t count it when a wife has sex with her bull side dish?  Or include a wife’s deployment of a strap-on on her caged hubby for her own satisfaction and amusement?

Clearly, some deeper  research may be required to get to the bottom of this apparent “sex strike”. I find it hard to believe that it’s all about too much Netflix and too many “devices” to watch it on.