Blazing Paddles!

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Science Wednesday: It's In Her Kiss

As you can see from today's illustration, Mistress elected the boots and bare legs look yesterday when she ventured downtown for some work meetings.

"It was supposed to hit 60 today, Slave....that's too hot for tights."

But she acknowledged that it seemed a little colder than that for mid-afternoon.

"I notice that some of the ladies here have them on Slave...."

SHe gave me a hard time when I confessed I had noticed as well. You can't teach an old Slave new tricks, I suppose. And where's the harm in being "observant"?

Mistress camped out in my office for a good part of the afternoon, since we had plans to meet an old friend after work for a drink at a nearby bar. It's one of those things you can do spontaneously with an empty nest. And we enjoyed trading stories and speculating about an upcoming election with him, a former local poobah, and the other self-important political figures slumming at this particular  bar last night.

Of course, before we ventured out, Mistress received the sort of attention from my lips and tongue that she has become accustomed to. I wonder if the politicians we pal-ed around with last night could detect the musky juices that no doubt clung to my cheeks and chin as we bellied up to the bar? No, they were probably more focused on flirting with Mistress than any detritus in my 6 pm shadow.

But today's entry is not about randy politicians. I'm focused instead on a scientific study derived from an on-line survey about the role of kissing in our contemporary mating practices, courtesy of yesterday's Times. Here's the link :Now a Kiss Isn't Just a Kiss.

It seems that not all of us use kissing for the same purpose:

The participants generally rated kissing in casual relationships as most important before sex, less important during sex, even less important after sex and least important “at other times.” (To clarify: researchers defined kissing as “on the lips or open-mouth (French).”)

Past research has shown that three types of people tend to be choosier in selecting mates who are genetically fit and compatible: women, those who rate themselves highly attractive, and those favoring casual sex. In this study, these people said that kissing was important mostly at the start of a relationship.

That may be because for these individuals, kissing turns out to be a quick, easy way to sample a partner’s suitability — a subconscious stop-go light. For them, “The Shoop Shoop Song (It’s in His Kiss)” might not be far off the mark.

After that first kiss, these types are much more likely than other subjects to change their minds about a potential partner, researchers found. If it’s not in his kiss, forget about him.

But other people might use different criteria to size up their mates: men, those who rate themselves as less sexually attractive, and people looking for commitment. In the grand search for a partner, these individuals screen for people who seem to have the inclination and resources for the long haul. And for them, this study showed, kissing has a lower priority at the beginning of dating.

Particularly for men and women looking for long-term relationships, kissing serves other purposes, like relationship upkeep. They would use their orbicularis oris muscle to mediate, ameliorate and sustain their connections. They rated kissing equally important before sex and at “other times not related to sex.” For these participants, kissing was least important during sex.

So it seems that a woman who sees herself as attractive, and is open to a casual fling might use kissing as a critical way to do a quick inventory on the liklihood of potential partner's compatibility. You're hot, or you're not, based on that first kiss. Blow that chance and it's to the back of the line for you, dude.

A woman more interested in a long term relationship, or who might consider herself a little less attractive, wouldn't view that first kiss as critical as whether her potential partner's American Express card is Gold, Silver, or Platinum.

It got me thinking about my first kiss with Mistress. Actually, I had tried to muster the courage a few times, after we had come together as volunteers on a political campaign. For a while she dodged my clumsy advances in a way that made me think she did not even consider me in that way. (Since we were married to different people at the time, this might have been a very natural reaction on her part to the flirtations of some older guy.)

The break through came one day in my office, a meeting she took the initiative to set up. I should have known once that meeting concluded with a kiss  that my fate was sealed, and that it was just a matter of time before I would become her abject Slave.  

But I suppose I am a slow learner. 

In any event, I am eternally grateful that I seemed to pass that initial screening. It was just a matter of days before I was where I was forever destined to be: my face buried between those delicious thighs, accumulating musky juices on my late afternoon shadow.

That "kiss" must have passed her discerning standards as well.

Looking Forward to Tights Week

Yesterday, over at All Mine, Suzanne pointed out that next week has been declared by some shameless vendor or prurient blogger ""Tights Week". There's even a cool illustrated logo:

 

Of course, Slave has a bit of a fetish for a woman in tights, which Mistress has been more than happy to exploit over the years. AS I recall, the first time I laid eyes on her, at an otherwise tedious political dinner in the fall of 1987, she was wearing an unusually short dress (by River City standards) and very sexy hose that accented her incredibly long and trim legs. I was immediately smitten, and the rest is history.

However, Mistress is a stickler for an apparently unwritten fashion requirement that one only wears tights in the cold weather months. You would never see her prancing around between April 15 and October 20th or so in anything but bare legs. And of course she has the shapely and toned legs to pull that off, as visitors to this page will note. And by rationing Slave's exposure to her in tights to those limited months, she gets her Slave all the more anxious for the time when the seasons finally change and I get to observe and feel her legs encased in that tight, sensuous fabric.

I'm not quite sure where this obsession came from.... though I can recall stealing furtive glimpses of my female class mates in their hose back in my 8th  grade Catholic school days. Maybe that's why the nun clobbered me that day in class, not because she observed me "snickering" while serve as altar boy at Christmas Eve midnight mass?

In any event. tights season has arrived here in River City. On Saturday night at that house concert fundraiser we attended, many of the ladies were also decked out in various tights stylings. Mistress had the look I preferred, solid black, with black boots and a colorful silky dress that provided ample space for her legs and thighs to peek out.

But some of the overdressed 40 something house fraus, the types who spend lots of time at the gym, spend lots of cash on designer clothes, but just can't score on the "sexy" scale, were sporting some (in my book) over designed tights -  patterns that seem way too busy and distract from the "goods' they should be enhancing. Here are some examples:

 

Now maybe some of you go for this, but they don't score when it comes to my highly attuned tights fetish. 

But of course what one could not tell Saturday evening was what the ladies' skirts and dresses were hiding: were the house fraus wearing the "peek-a-boo" variety of tights that Mistress sometimes  wears, that are so suitable for office worship, or a quickie in the guest bath at some otherwise dull dinner party? That's Slave's favorite type:

In fact, Mistress has promised to drop my my office today, between meetings and a business lunch to give her Slave a little mid-day tasting opportunity. I wonder if she'll unearth some of last season's peek-a-boo tights for the occasion?

An to get in the spirit of tights week, I'm hoping that some of my fellow blogger's post pictures of themselves in tights... what about it Suzanne, Sin or 'Nilla? And what about you Tammy? If Robin can wear tights, so can you.

Making Up for Lost Time

Mistress and Slave had some pent up demands that needed to be satisfied by the time she landed back in River City on Friday evening.

I had spent my evening sharing a pizza with my cranky Mother, about a 15 minute drive from the airport. Which made it easy for me to get to the airport early, paging through my Times, still locked away in my cage, anxious when it was announced that her plane would be about 15 minutes late. OT in the cage was no fun!

But soon she was striding through security, a smile on her face, looking as lovely as ever. She had not adopted the Portland grunge look, though the dark leather jacket she wore, and flowing scarf, gave her a bit of a counterculture flair.

Naturally, I was very glad to see her, but the cage prevented me from showing her just how glad. No, 'Nilla. There was no extra key on hand. I had to wait for her bag to show on the carousel, and complete the 20 minute drive home before I earned my release.

Of course, Mistress seemed to enjoy my oral attentions, which led to her permission to indulge myself amidst those clean shaven folds. And over the ensuing 20 hours or so we "did it" two more times.

The bonus was spending several hours in bed on Saturday afternoon, napping and fucking and redeeming some of the time we had lost during her trip to the Northwest.

Last night we had a social engagement: a dinner party and concert at a local home for a charity that Mistress's mother is associated with. Mistress was her mother's "date" for the dinner part. I got to stay home a little longer and watch my alma mater school the poor cadets from the Air Force Academy in the thinner air of the mountain west. Sorry, WC. But at least we show our patriotism by giving the academies a nice pay-day and network exposure.

By the time I arrived at the party, Mistress was finishing dinner. She had dressed up for the occasion, and with the weather turning considerably colder, I was treated to the first day of "tights season". With the tights and high black boots she was wearing, I was glad Mistress did not make me get back in that infernal cage.  Slave is a sucker for Mistress in those black tights, and as we sat together for the concert part, Slave was treated with the opportunity to fondle that tight covered thigh protruding from a dress with a convenient slit up the side.

Yum.

The music was sexy / ethereal too. An acoustic set from a local duo with a national reputation. Here's a video of them which you may like, of a song called "Sacred Ground", with a line about someone leaving little bite marks on the female singer's neck. It made Slave want to head back to the "sacred ground" of the executive suite at the UCTMW World HQ and help Mistress out of those tights.