Mistress and slave are back in River City, hunkered down for a little too much work these last few days. While spring time here is one of the better times of the year, it's sad not to enjoy this week's full moon over the high desert landscape of our SW hideaway. Instead of those dark skies, ours is more of an urban landscape here.
But there are some redeeming benefits, particularly for Mistress. Example:
"Slave, I've invited Jay over for dinner on Wednesday night...."
"It will be good to see him, Mistress..... will he be spending the night?"
"His son is out of town this week, so, yes, I think he probably will."
I guess I have some meal planning to do. A stop at the grocery store this afternoon. And making sure our daughter's bed is ready to accommodate this old slave while Mistress enjoys the attention of her lover.
They have some catching up to do.
Wednesday, April 12, 2017
Saturday, April 8, 2017
Giving "Cucks" A Bad Name
Mistress is behind the wheel and slave is on the keyboard updating our devoted readers as we barrel across Missouri, on our sad odyssey back to River City. We dumped our youngest off at the airport yesterday morning, and headed West, across the top of Texas and then through Oklahoma, stopping only long enough to enjoy some comfort food at a cafe called "The Windy Cow", which either was a comment on methane production or an allusion to those big windmills in the region.
Mistress found the peanut butter ice crispie treats heavenly!
We ended up spending the night in Joplin, MO, famous for it's tornadoes and franchise restaurants. And after some robust wake up sex this morning, we got our second wind and headed back to the highway for the final leg of our journey.
But today's blog is not about our journey through the flyover states, but about the scandal I read about yesterday that gives all us cuckolds a bad name.
Turns out that white nationalist poster boy Steve Bannon is in a turf war with the President's son-in-law over supremacy at 1600 Pennsylvania Ave. According to media reports( Bannon vs. Kushner War) Scruffy old Bannon has referred to Gerad Kushner as a "cuck".
Well he certainly is a pretty boy. And one can imagine him sliding into some of Ivanka's made in China undies or frocks behind closed doors. But still....
It's a little hard to believe that the President's daughter, with all that public scrutiny, could really get away with cuckolding her hubby without someone blowing the whistle. Now that would be embarrassing!
But then.... what about all those creepy comments the POTUS has made about his daughter's appearance, and his speculation about wanting to "date" her if only he wasn't her Dad.
If something's going on in the WH living quarters while Melania is holed up in Manhattan, who's to know? You have to do something when the O'Reilly show is over, right?
I suppose we will only find out if Bannon is blowing smoke in a few years when some retired Secret Service agent writes his memoirs.
Mistress found the peanut butter ice crispie treats heavenly!
We ended up spending the night in Joplin, MO, famous for it's tornadoes and franchise restaurants. And after some robust wake up sex this morning, we got our second wind and headed back to the highway for the final leg of our journey.
But today's blog is not about our journey through the flyover states, but about the scandal I read about yesterday that gives all us cuckolds a bad name.
Turns out that white nationalist poster boy Steve Bannon is in a turf war with the President's son-in-law over supremacy at 1600 Pennsylvania Ave. According to media reports( Bannon vs. Kushner War) Scruffy old Bannon has referred to Gerad Kushner as a "cuck".
Well he certainly is a pretty boy. And one can imagine him sliding into some of Ivanka's made in China undies or frocks behind closed doors. But still....
It's a little hard to believe that the President's daughter, with all that public scrutiny, could really get away with cuckolding her hubby without someone blowing the whistle. Now that would be embarrassing!
But then.... what about all those creepy comments the POTUS has made about his daughter's appearance, and his speculation about wanting to "date" her if only he wasn't her Dad.If something's going on in the WH living quarters while Melania is holed up in Manhattan, who's to know? You have to do something when the O'Reilly show is over, right?
I suppose we will only find out if Bannon is blowing smoke in a few years when some retired Secret Service agent writes his memoirs.
Thursday, April 6, 2017
Happy Trails
We'll be hitting the road today, stopping off for some touristy stuff and shopping for our Domme in training , and then overnighting near the airport for her early morning Friday flight winging her back to Europe to continue her "studies".
Then Mistress and slave hit the road back to River City.
Our visitor has taken a bit of the starch out of our kinky aspirations over the last two weeks.
Yes, we've been able to maintain our daily couplings. But there's been no cuckolding, ass-fucking or nude sun bathing since she's joined us.
Back in River City, things should lighten up. Or kink-up. For one, there is Jay, Mistress's lover, who must think he's been abandoned after her 5 week absence. No doubt there is some pent up demand on both of their parts that may need to be sated when we return.
And Mistress made sure to remind me to pack her strap-on harness before we head home.
Also waiting back in River City is Slave's cock cage. Having recovered from that surgery in February, I have run out of excuses, haven't I?
Monday, April 3, 2017
Cuckold Interruptus
Mistress and slave are still "entertaining" our youngest daughter, who is beginning to growse about missing Belgian beer and her EuroTrash pals back on the Continent. She claims she doesn't sleep well out here in the land of open skies and dark, quiet nights.
"It's too quiet."
The upside is that when we are not out skiing or eating out, she pretty much holes up in her room, leaving her boring, decadently American parents to their own devices. That left us plenty of space for some robust Sunday morning sex. Slave pulled out Mistress's favorite power tool, which induced a rather dramatic cum before I was allowed to finish the job with the deployment of Mistress's work-a-day cock.
After skiing I even got in a little worship after our late afternoon nap, assuring Mistress with some double pleasure for the day. Then there three of us were off to a local road house out on the Mesa where it was "two stepping night". But for our daughter the key was designer Tacos and locally brewed ales that were the main attraction.
It was a surprisingly large crowd of 40-50 somethings dancing to the tunes of a band from down the highway in Santa Fe that did the whole "Western Swing" thing. Mistress and slave even danced to one waltz, no doubt embarrassing our Domme in training.
As we sipped our second drinks of the night, the fun began. First, a tall 50-ish gentlemen with sandy gray hair, in a flannel shirt and jeans ambled over from the bar and asked Mistress to take a twirl on the dance floor. Our daughter's eyes bugged out a tad, and slave smiled slyly. Poor Mistress. This fellow was clearly an appealing guy, just looking for a chance at taking the hottest babe in the room in his arms for 5 minutes or so. And if our daughter wasn't there, well, Mistress likely would have taken up his offer, if only to give her cuckolded hubby a little thrill and provide some blog fodder.
But with our daughter there?
"Sorry", she said, blushing a bit. "We're just hanging out here tonight....."
He took the news like a gentleman, and ambled back over to the bar, to re-join his "wingman", a guy in a cowboy hat supping a beer and following developments with interest. The two mumbled to each other after handsome guy was shot down by Mistress.
As the clock approached nine, the crowd began to thin. And our daughter, who had now been fed and gone through a couple of snifters of the house Ale, was getting fidgety. As in "can we go now?"
I was enjoying the fiddle player, and a scrawny lead guitarist in a cowboy hat and tie dyed electric blue pants that somehow matched his plaid blue shirt. But I wasn't going to hold up the show.
At that point another guy strode bravely over to our table. He had been standing next to the sound board for the last 30 minutes or so, and was oddly dressed in a dark suit and tie, with a full beard. But for his choice of costumes, he bore an uncanny resemblance to "Captain Obvious" from this dreadful TV ads. And yet, he was also an accomplished two-stepper, as shown by his stylings on the floor with another lady who had recently gone off into the night with some friends.
Sadly, after he enquired about Mistress's availability to join him on the dance floor, she shot him down too, making a similar excuse.
So while it's nice to have our daughter drop by for her extended stay, it's clearly cramping Mistress's style.
Only 4 more days!
"It's too quiet."
The upside is that when we are not out skiing or eating out, she pretty much holes up in her room, leaving her boring, decadently American parents to their own devices. That left us plenty of space for some robust Sunday morning sex. Slave pulled out Mistress's favorite power tool, which induced a rather dramatic cum before I was allowed to finish the job with the deployment of Mistress's work-a-day cock.After skiing I even got in a little worship after our late afternoon nap, assuring Mistress with some double pleasure for the day. Then there three of us were off to a local road house out on the Mesa where it was "two stepping night". But for our daughter the key was designer Tacos and locally brewed ales that were the main attraction.
It was a surprisingly large crowd of 40-50 somethings dancing to the tunes of a band from down the highway in Santa Fe that did the whole "Western Swing" thing. Mistress and slave even danced to one waltz, no doubt embarrassing our Domme in training.
As we sipped our second drinks of the night, the fun began. First, a tall 50-ish gentlemen with sandy gray hair, in a flannel shirt and jeans ambled over from the bar and asked Mistress to take a twirl on the dance floor. Our daughter's eyes bugged out a tad, and slave smiled slyly. Poor Mistress. This fellow was clearly an appealing guy, just looking for a chance at taking the hottest babe in the room in his arms for 5 minutes or so. And if our daughter wasn't there, well, Mistress likely would have taken up his offer, if only to give her cuckolded hubby a little thrill and provide some blog fodder.
But with our daughter there?
"Sorry", she said, blushing a bit. "We're just hanging out here tonight....."
He took the news like a gentleman, and ambled back over to the bar, to re-join his "wingman", a guy in a cowboy hat supping a beer and following developments with interest. The two mumbled to each other after handsome guy was shot down by Mistress.
As the clock approached nine, the crowd began to thin. And our daughter, who had now been fed and gone through a couple of snifters of the house Ale, was getting fidgety. As in "can we go now?"
I was enjoying the fiddle player, and a scrawny lead guitarist in a cowboy hat and tie dyed electric blue pants that somehow matched his plaid blue shirt. But I wasn't going to hold up the show.
At that point another guy strode bravely over to our table. He had been standing next to the sound board for the last 30 minutes or so, and was oddly dressed in a dark suit and tie, with a full beard. But for his choice of costumes, he bore an uncanny resemblance to "Captain Obvious" from this dreadful TV ads. And yet, he was also an accomplished two-stepper, as shown by his stylings on the floor with another lady who had recently gone off into the night with some friends.Sadly, after he enquired about Mistress's availability to join him on the dance floor, she shot him down too, making a similar excuse.
So while it's nice to have our daughter drop by for her extended stay, it's clearly cramping Mistress's style.
Only 4 more days!
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