Blame it on Global Warming?

It was an oddly balmy day for late January in River City. Temperatures in the mid-60s?  Of course there's no such thing as global warming, right?

Maybe it was the weather that got Mistress and Slave a little randier than normal.

There was some steamy wake-up sex before we both headed to work.

Then it turned out Mistress was stopping by at a client's office in my building at mid-morning. When Mistress stops by, no matter how briefly, the first order of business is a sp,e appropriate worship. Slave slides the chair against my (unlockable) door for a little privacy. The soft and absorbent blanket is placed on its seat and Mistress settles into her throne. 

Yesterday, though they probably weren't necessary, she had on her black tights and lace up knee scraping black boots. So she had to slide off one boot and wriggle off a leg of those tights to give Slave access to her clean shaven folds.

Falling to my knees, I went to work, and soon had Mistress squirming in her seat to a nice little mid-day cum. I didn't take a picture, but this illustration from a new blog I found (and listed on the role) called Lipstick and Ligature suggests that office worship has a long and international tradition.  I just need one of those overstuffed chairs:

 But one comment on this guy's technique: not sure old Mick's aging knees could handle the "deep knee bend" approach he is using in this illustration. Ouch. Let's hope that lady cums as quickly as my Mistress.

Soon she was off for another meeting, but not before I mentioned I'd be home a little early, after a dentist's appointment. She then decided to head home early too, since she'd be at a meeting closer to home as well in the late afternoon. I mean why truck all the way back downtown?

Which meant we were both home by  4 pm.  I sorted through Mistress's AM in-box while she handed a call with a client.

I've gotten pretty cut-throat when it comes to deletions of her many potential suitors, knowing more about Mistress's particular standards as the process has unfolded. Yesterday I was happy to delete two dudes of the "passing through town, so lets hook up" genre.

"That's what escort services are for, Slave...."

"Exactly".

Any guys who, in their first contact use the words "babe", "sweetheart" or "cock" are also sent back to cyber oblivion.

Plus anyone from a little town called "Union, Ky."  We think AM must have done an intensive marketing job there, because 2 out of every 5 guys between the ages of 25 and 65 must have an account.

After Mistress was done with ehr call, we quickly shelved the idea of a pre-dusk bike ride,  stripped off the work clothes and settled in between the sheets.

There were other priorities.

On Cyber Mating

 In lieu of a real blog today, I'm sharing this interesting link, spun off the strange tale of the linebacker with the not really dead pretend girlfriend. 


Manti and the Mating Game - NYTimes.com

Good point: sure on-line hook-ups are a tad bizarre. But consider the more limited options beforehand, dear readers. 

Free at Last

At approximately 11:55 am yesterday morning, Mistress and her devoted Slave dropped our daughter off at the airport. Her college has some sort of interminable winter "intercession" that means 2nd semester does not begin until this week.

And as charming as she can be .... well, let's face it, she's not so charming to her oh so tedious and insufferable parents... we were in a celebratory mood when she stepped into the security line for her trip back to campus.

"At last, Mistress, we have our empty nest back!"

"Not a moment too soon, Slave...."

It was almost like a vacation back at the UCTMW World HQ, Sunday afternoon. The NY Times awaited. And with the first Sunday in many months with no NFL football to watch (ProBowl? Please?), Slave had no excuse to put off what Mistress had been lobbying for for several months.... finally tuning into the Downton Abbey Series that so many of her friends had been touting as "mist see".

So we lounged about, Mistress flashing those folds beneath her lounge wear, and watched several 1st Season episodes via Hulu.  Slave paged through the paper and did his duty as Mistress's designated social secretary on Ashley Madison. (Mistress hates the task of having to sort through an overly full inbox, so it's my job to make the first cut, deleting the suitors who are clearly unsuitable, and bringing the rare few who might make the cut to her attention).

After about two episodes, there was a Downton Abbey "recess", including a nice late afternoon nap, followed by our second round of sexual play of the day. Mistress was a little surprised when I deployed her favorite power tool to provide a little more fun for her clean shaven folds. She even asked permission before she came, without me having to remind her it was Switch Day. And Slave was more than happy to take his turn the old fashioned way, after she had a nice mega-cum thanks to the miracle of sexual technology.

After  two bodies in motion finally came to rest, we fixed ourselves some dinner, and watched another 2 episodes of the show that so many folks have been chattering about. About mid-way through, I had already adopted an annoying twitty English accent, securing me a severe reprimand.

"You're making fun Slave.... it's really not that bad, is it?"

Actually it wasn't that bad. I've always taken a shine to Elizabeth McGovern. But still, it's not exactly Homeland. And is it sufficiently macho to say you enjoy anything on Masterpiece Theatre? Am I going metrosexual like Tom Brady?

"It's OK Mistress... but I hope they add some Vampires by the time we get to the 2nd season...."

What's the point of a drafty English manor house without vampires? Or at least a few zombies?

From the Desk of Our (Appalled) CEO

 

Dear Readers:

Yes, we have been on and off again with you here at UCTMW. Such is our life. Like you, we are busy. Luckily we get back to the empty nest later today, after we drop our surly Co-Ed off at the airport for her 2nd semester,  and can resume  a more robust degree of debauchery. This is not to mean that we will locate others to join us in this pursuit any time soon, despite some recent and frustrating efforts.

We have almost given up thinking that we will find an ensemble cast scenario as compelling as the one over at “All Mine.” We often say WOW – how did the three of them find one another? (Not even counting the occasional cameo appearance of Suzanne’s sister Sherry). Based upon the somewhat fleeting rogue's gallery of supporting actors and actresses who have stumbled across the stage here at the UCTMW World HQ, we are not quite as fortunate.

We have not been completely dormant here in the past two months. No excitement please; there has not been any conjugal visits between suitors and me or us since before the holidays. But while I have kept the door open a crack, I am darn close to closing up shop on the “search”. The more men encountered – the more I scratch my head. Are people really this confused? Or disingenuous? Or do we just have a knack for unearthing the most peculiar whack jobs who have walked our quaint River valley?

I do have some training in psychology – but some of what I have encountered defies modern science’s understanding of the human condition. Some reasons observed or given for why yours truly has not  “scored” of late:

1)   The WC: well, this would be a model situation, if only…. And those of you who read – know the challenges here. We love you WC! And at least we now know you really exist. Get well soon!

2)   Jay: our Jay seems to like me too much actually to be involved with me. What red-blooded American male will not just provide the service without some guarantee of a “happily ever after” future involved? I seem to have met him. No Jay, it’s really not all that confusing.

3)   K: his cyber girlfriend, who lives 1000 miles away, gets jealous of what he might be doing when she is not around. He sees her every few months and gets hot and bothered in between. Ergo, he texts me. Great sex – yes, great eye candy – but not the most interesting man ever. Constantly guilt-ridden about cyber-wife, oh well. Way too much trouble.

4)   One you never learned of – Married – and I basically am anti-married guy. Lots of info shared. Bread broken. Guess what – he doesn’t cover his tracks thoroughly – wife gets suspicious   – he gets nervous. Major 911 – yea dude—told you cheating is NOT a good idea. Yes, heard from him again last week. No thanks buddy. And you want to  Collar me???

5)   Another cougar week foray; D. Yes, great sex. Fun and entertaining free spirit. But you neglected to tell me about your CRIMINAL RECORD. And not a good idea for me to be at your place next time the police come calling. I know that you love to snowboard – but you are not invited to our mountain hide-a-way.

So readers, without telling you, in the last week or so  we did a brief  nostalgia back into Ashley Madison  and Collar me – and some of what we found – and know that I have not met any of these guys face to face, is even more appalling – a few dispatches from the field:

1)   A potentially interesting Dude retired from the Marines (a flyer) and a boxer – but (after one brief conversation) says “I am already developing feelings for you and you are married”  (Well, yea. Didn't I make that clear? ) Another would be “Dom” with the sensitivity of a butterfly. 

2)   A guy from down river who chats me up via email and then  says, ”Let’s talk, but I need to first get a throw-a-way phone”.  (What? That much paranoia already?  no thanks.)

3)   Guy who’s “private showcase” of photos shows some very hot abs! Claims to be single. But then says, “I want to meet you but cannot give you my full name till I see you face-to-face”. (security reasons!). Is this guy in the CIA, or maybe the KGB? Could it be General Petraeus, a tad bored? No, this girl likes to do a little due diligence research first before meeting face to face.

4)   Another guy from down river, says he is “legally separated”. Gives me his name and facebook friends me. Hooked up by Linked In too. Intriguing, I suppose, though a bit of a name dropper. But how old is he really? On AM he says he’s 55. His facebook page says he’s 63.  Why lie about your age, compadre?

What am I doing wrong here, friends?

Any tips?

The appalled,

Molly