Here in River City it seems that summer just began and is already fading away. Things traditionally pick up speed at work after Labor Day, and we barely slowed down. (Thankfully we have a week away planned starting a week from today to grab back some of that lost summer.)
But yesterday there was a little break for us around noon time. Mistress walked over between meetings, and we had a chance for a little mid-day celebration of those clean shaven folds.
Our loyal readers know the drill by now: Slave pushed the door closed, and the chair against it. The blanket I keep there for such occasions was placed on its seat. Then Mistress hiked up her dress and shimmied out of her black undies, sitting on her throne as her Slave fell to his knees to savor her addictive juices.
What a lovely lunch break.
We had driven to work together, and when we headed home, Mistress spoke with her lover J about some plans for this evening. With what we hope will be an empty nest tonight (presuming our daughter up the road doesn't make a surprise appearance), our plan is to pick up J and his bicycle, go for an early evening ride, maybe go out for dinner, and then have Ja do a "sleepover" here with Mistress.
After the call, Mistress made sure her Slave was on board.
"You don't mind J spending the night do you, Slave?"
I assured her that Slave remains "cool" with her sexual adventuring. After all, I do get plenty of action, don't I.
We did spend a little time watching the final night of GOP coverage from Tampa. The cute video with all those Romney family photos for a moment had me thinking that the guy running for President wasn't the wooden plutocrat with hidden tax returns but actually Ozzie Nelson with his devoted Harriet at his side.
But the night was really hijacked by that great Amercian Clint Eastwood. In his alternative universe, the President is some guy who sits there and tells an old movie actor to "shut-up" and that Mitt should "go fuck himself". By now Mistress was asleep, and I knew the story of the day on the morning after would not be whatever speech Mitt gave, but the sheer wackidoodle of this cranky old man talking to an empty chair and asking the crowd to "make his day."
Ok.... enough with this AM's morning rant.
Since Mistress is likely to be sleeping in another bed tonight, maybe it would be wise for me to sign off now, and make sure there is plenty time this morning for Slave to get some action.
Friday, August 31, 2012
Thursday, August 30, 2012
Mistress Has a Date Night
It's been more than a week since Mistress had a chance to spend some time with her lover J. So with our schedule finally clearing a bit, and the sullen ones off to their respective campuses, she announced she'd be spending the evening "out".
Slave was content to spend the evening home, enjoying a bike ride, and then some measured doses of the GOP convention, which I had to turn off a few times in order to control my surging blood pressure. Only small snippets can work with me. Though I had to speculate about the "after party" conversation between Rand Paul and Condi Rice, when he explained his theory about how those pesky civil rights laws that allowed her to move beyond the segregation of her youth were actually an unconstitutional imposition on states' rights.
She did check in on their way back from dinner. "We're going back to J's house, Slave.... I'll be home in a few hours.... though I'm not sure I'm going to let J fuck me tonight."
Of course, this was intended as a tease for J, sitting next to her in the car. He and I then talked a bit about the evening's proceedings in Tampa, before they signed off, and Slave returned to Mike Huckabee, explaining his theory about why the President isn't a true Christian.
Mistress did come home, at around 10:30 pm or so. She and J both have early morning obligations.
I try not to pry about their activities, but she did share that there was some "fooling around".
"He likes to spend time between my legs, Slave.... must have been licking down there for 30 minutes or more."
It seems Mistress has J's training well in hand.
But she wasn't going to deny me my opportunity, settling back on the bed, her legs open, encouraging me to kneel for her.
"Do I taste different, Slave?"
"Hmmmm.... a little, Mistress."
Of course, she was a little too tired to allow her Slave the "full monty". I'm making sure to wake her early this am, to make sure there is plenty of time.
Slave was content to spend the evening home, enjoying a bike ride, and then some measured doses of the GOP convention, which I had to turn off a few times in order to control my surging blood pressure. Only small snippets can work with me. Though I had to speculate about the "after party" conversation between Rand Paul and Condi Rice, when he explained his theory about how those pesky civil rights laws that allowed her to move beyond the segregation of her youth were actually an unconstitutional imposition on states' rights.
She did check in on their way back from dinner. "We're going back to J's house, Slave.... I'll be home in a few hours.... though I'm not sure I'm going to let J fuck me tonight."
Of course, this was intended as a tease for J, sitting next to her in the car. He and I then talked a bit about the evening's proceedings in Tampa, before they signed off, and Slave returned to Mike Huckabee, explaining his theory about why the President isn't a true Christian.
Mistress did come home, at around 10:30 pm or so. She and J both have early morning obligations.
I try not to pry about their activities, but she did share that there was some "fooling around".
"He likes to spend time between my legs, Slave.... must have been licking down there for 30 minutes or more."
It seems Mistress has J's training well in hand.
But she wasn't going to deny me my opportunity, settling back on the bed, her legs open, encouraging me to kneel for her.
"Do I taste different, Slave?"
"Hmmmm.... a little, Mistress."
Of course, she was a little too tired to allow her Slave the "full monty". I'm making sure to wake her early this am, to make sure there is plenty of time.
Wednesday, August 29, 2012
An Unexpected Cock from the Past
Yesterday morning we were actually able to "sleep in" a little later than on recent work days. Not having to leave the house until 8:30 am gave Mistress and Slave a little extra wiggle room for some robust wake-up sex before our morning oblutions.
Ahhh.
It almost made up for too many early mornings in the last week or two.
Later, after work, we headed to a political "cook out" at a local party poo-bah's home. An annual event where we can catch up with the usual suspects in River City's Democratic scene. As Mistress was talking to a former Mayor, I noticed a tall, early 60ish man that I'd not seen here before. Then I heard him introduce himself to the host.
The name rang a funny bell.
It was a name from Mistress's past. Once, years ago, she mentioned him when we were trading stories about past sexual adventures. A lobbyist she had "encountered" back when she was about 22, while working for a now more prominent politician, not long after she graduated from College.
What I remembered most about her stories about this guy, who we'll call D, was that he had an enormous "hard to fit" cock.
"It actually hurt....." is what I remember her saying, though since their affair covered several months, it seems she must have learned how to accommodate it.If at first you don't succeed.....
I also knew something else about this guy: he was married to a woman (his 2nd wife) who was my family's neighbor, back in my high school days. (the girl was about 4 years younger than me).
Got that: He used to fuck my wife (before I knew her); I used to live next door to his current wife (before he knew her). Yes, it's a small state.
So Slave's mind was swirling with the potential of making both D and Mistress squirm if I could bring the two of them back together in an unexpected encounter. Fortunately, D looked in my direction, and I reached out my hand and introduced myself.
"You know, I think you're married to an old neighbor of mine", mentioning her name. He actually recalled the connection, recounting a story his wife had told him about the infamous "Collins" brothers and their partisan proclivities, even back in high school.
Mistress was next to me but was still focused on the former Mayor, not aware of who I was talking to, or her smutty past connection to him.
But I had to change that, didn't I?
"D, let me introduce you to my wife, I think you may know her....."
I got Mistress's attention, and "introduced" the two of them by name.
It was quite amusing to watch Mistress's jaw drop, and to see D's confused recognition, after a few seconds, of an old flame that wass now married to someone else.
Oops.
Mistress "reminded" him that she used to work for the same politician that he is now shilling for in a big statewide campaign that is getting some national attention.
I think they were both a wee bit embarrassed.
Cute.
And, sadly, as the crowd swirled, they did not get any private time to "reconnect". I do wonder if D will reach out with a linked in connect or email in the week to come.
And of course, it did give Slave an opportunity to tease a bit.
As we glanced at him across the crowded lawn, I had to say, "Gee, Mistress, do you think he still has that big cock....?"
"They say they don't usually shrink, Slave." (Can you hear the sarcasm dripping?)
"I wonder how it compares to WC's special occasion cock?"
"I guess I'll never know, Slave...."
Once we got home, and while I didn't have one of those "ginormous" cocks to test Mistress's capacity, I did make sure to deploy my well trained tongue to please her as best I could.
And this morning... well.... hopefully shell be willing to forgive my little stunt last night.
Ahhh.
It almost made up for too many early mornings in the last week or two.
Later, after work, we headed to a political "cook out" at a local party poo-bah's home. An annual event where we can catch up with the usual suspects in River City's Democratic scene. As Mistress was talking to a former Mayor, I noticed a tall, early 60ish man that I'd not seen here before. Then I heard him introduce himself to the host.
The name rang a funny bell.
It was a name from Mistress's past. Once, years ago, she mentioned him when we were trading stories about past sexual adventures. A lobbyist she had "encountered" back when she was about 22, while working for a now more prominent politician, not long after she graduated from College.
What I remembered most about her stories about this guy, who we'll call D, was that he had an enormous "hard to fit" cock.
"It actually hurt....." is what I remember her saying, though since their affair covered several months, it seems she must have learned how to accommodate it.If at first you don't succeed.....
I also knew something else about this guy: he was married to a woman (his 2nd wife) who was my family's neighbor, back in my high school days. (the girl was about 4 years younger than me).
Got that: He used to fuck my wife (before I knew her); I used to live next door to his current wife (before he knew her). Yes, it's a small state.
So Slave's mind was swirling with the potential of making both D and Mistress squirm if I could bring the two of them back together in an unexpected encounter. Fortunately, D looked in my direction, and I reached out my hand and introduced myself.
"You know, I think you're married to an old neighbor of mine", mentioning her name. He actually recalled the connection, recounting a story his wife had told him about the infamous "Collins" brothers and their partisan proclivities, even back in high school.
Mistress was next to me but was still focused on the former Mayor, not aware of who I was talking to, or her smutty past connection to him.
But I had to change that, didn't I?
"D, let me introduce you to my wife, I think you may know her....."
I got Mistress's attention, and "introduced" the two of them by name.
It was quite amusing to watch Mistress's jaw drop, and to see D's confused recognition, after a few seconds, of an old flame that wass now married to someone else.
Oops.
Mistress "reminded" him that she used to work for the same politician that he is now shilling for in a big statewide campaign that is getting some national attention.
I think they were both a wee bit embarrassed.
Cute.
And, sadly, as the crowd swirled, they did not get any private time to "reconnect". I do wonder if D will reach out with a linked in connect or email in the week to come.
And of course, it did give Slave an opportunity to tease a bit.
As we glanced at him across the crowded lawn, I had to say, "Gee, Mistress, do you think he still has that big cock....?"
"They say they don't usually shrink, Slave." (Can you hear the sarcasm dripping?)
"I wonder how it compares to WC's special occasion cock?"
"I guess I'll never know, Slave...."
Once we got home, and while I didn't have one of those "ginormous" cocks to test Mistress's capacity, I did make sure to deploy my well trained tongue to please her as best I could.
And this morning... well.... hopefully shell be willing to forgive my little stunt last night.
Tuesday, August 28, 2012
Sex Education 101 (1967)
Mistress and Slave made it home safely Sunday evening, though poor Mistress was back in another car bight and early Monday for a long drive to the north with some work colleagues. Fortunately, she got home early enough last night for a bike ride to knock out some of those non-sexual kinks.
Last night we simply relaxed in our empty nest, relieved that we have some time together again without too many prying eyes and ears around.
While we were on the road last week, I did not have the time to comment here on the lunatic ramblings of the Missouri Senate candidates and his biological theory that women's reproductive systems simply "shut that down" when subject to a "legitimate rape". As the week progressed it seemed that more politicos got their feet stuck in the same crazy swamp, with frat boy Paul Ryan noting that rape was just another "method of conception".
But as the media pealed back Scott Aiken's biologocal theories the scary part to me was that he cited as his medical source the guy who provided me and my high school classmates the only class that passed for "sex education" at my Catholic High School here in River City back in 1967.
Of course, even as a high school Junior poor Slave's sex education was rather spartan. Of course, I knew what "felt good", and was always trying to do it with my high school girl friend, who let me get about as far as a pick off play between 2nd and 3rd bases. I also knew that there were sometimes of the month that my girl friend got pissy and would not go swimming. What the fuck was that about?
But the notion of birth control and its various methodologies was grad school material as far as I was concerned.
So when Dr. Jack Willke and his wife Barbara showed up to explain it all to us, I was all ears.
Sadly, the presentation was limited to a "scare them abstinent" approach.... sex is an evil impulse, that should be abused only when you decide to make babies. If you "experiment" you're likely to get the poor girl pregnant, and that will ruin your life and hers". Then, so, "once you are married, and the girls in the class feel compelled to submit to your pathetic husband's concupiscent demands, here's how to avoid getting pregnant...."
We then got a detailed description of the "rhythm method", which involved monitoring the phases of the moon as far as I could tell as the presentation proceeded.
Even at the tender age of 16 or so, this rap made me roll my eyes at these incredibly un-cool, tedious scolds.
Dr. Willke and his wife later emerged as the local and then national leaders of the "Right to Life" movement, as the discussion of abortion obsessed so many people in the years prior to and after Roe v. Wade.
But I had thought Dr. Willke had faded from public view years ago.
But no, there he was, last week, being cited in the national media as the "medical" source of the theory ( an old wives' tale that apparently has floated around for centuries) that a woman must be "acceptive" of conception, and therefore, in the event of "legitimate" rape her reproductive equipment will be all "spastic" and tense, therefore dodging conception.
Fortunately, I didn't remember this little lesson as part of their 60's era sex education curriculum. The subtext, of course, is that the only women who claim they became pregnant as a result of "rape" were not raped at all, but must have been "looking for it", either by the way they addressed or behaved. As a result, there really is no need for a "rape" exception for any abortion prohibition, is there?
Of course, from the perspective of a father of four daughters, rather than a horny teen, this attitude is not just quaint but frightening. It's certainly something to consider as we go to vote, isn't it.
OK.... enough for political screeds this week, dear readers. I promise, there is more sex for this sex blog to come. In fact I better get upstairs right now!
Last night we simply relaxed in our empty nest, relieved that we have some time together again without too many prying eyes and ears around.
While we were on the road last week, I did not have the time to comment here on the lunatic ramblings of the Missouri Senate candidates and his biological theory that women's reproductive systems simply "shut that down" when subject to a "legitimate rape". As the week progressed it seemed that more politicos got their feet stuck in the same crazy swamp, with frat boy Paul Ryan noting that rape was just another "method of conception".
But as the media pealed back Scott Aiken's biologocal theories the scary part to me was that he cited as his medical source the guy who provided me and my high school classmates the only class that passed for "sex education" at my Catholic High School here in River City back in 1967.
Of course, even as a high school Junior poor Slave's sex education was rather spartan. Of course, I knew what "felt good", and was always trying to do it with my high school girl friend, who let me get about as far as a pick off play between 2nd and 3rd bases. I also knew that there were sometimes of the month that my girl friend got pissy and would not go swimming. What the fuck was that about?
But the notion of birth control and its various methodologies was grad school material as far as I was concerned.
So when Dr. Jack Willke and his wife Barbara showed up to explain it all to us, I was all ears.
Sadly, the presentation was limited to a "scare them abstinent" approach.... sex is an evil impulse, that should be abused only when you decide to make babies. If you "experiment" you're likely to get the poor girl pregnant, and that will ruin your life and hers". Then, so, "once you are married, and the girls in the class feel compelled to submit to your pathetic husband's concupiscent demands, here's how to avoid getting pregnant...."
We then got a detailed description of the "rhythm method", which involved monitoring the phases of the moon as far as I could tell as the presentation proceeded.
Even at the tender age of 16 or so, this rap made me roll my eyes at these incredibly un-cool, tedious scolds.
Dr. Willke and his wife later emerged as the local and then national leaders of the "Right to Life" movement, as the discussion of abortion obsessed so many people in the years prior to and after Roe v. Wade.
But I had thought Dr. Willke had faded from public view years ago.
But no, there he was, last week, being cited in the national media as the "medical" source of the theory ( an old wives' tale that apparently has floated around for centuries) that a woman must be "acceptive" of conception, and therefore, in the event of "legitimate" rape her reproductive equipment will be all "spastic" and tense, therefore dodging conception.
Fortunately, I didn't remember this little lesson as part of their 60's era sex education curriculum. The subtext, of course, is that the only women who claim they became pregnant as a result of "rape" were not raped at all, but must have been "looking for it", either by the way they addressed or behaved. As a result, there really is no need for a "rape" exception for any abortion prohibition, is there?
Of course, from the perspective of a father of four daughters, rather than a horny teen, this attitude is not just quaint but frightening. It's certainly something to consider as we go to vote, isn't it.
OK.... enough for political screeds this week, dear readers. I promise, there is more sex for this sex blog to come. In fact I better get upstairs right now!
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