This Could be The Last Time....

Slave is actually retiring from his long time partnership at the end of the year. The time is right and the thought of not having to show up at an office on a regular basis is liberating.

But along with some of my colleagues and the expansive view from my corner office perch, there is one ritual that will be sorely missed as I scale down my practice to something more laid back: those leisurely worship sessions behind my closed office door.

Yesterday at the end of the work day, my fellow worker bees through a retirement reception at the office. It was something I had been dreading.

"It feels like going to your own funeral, Mistress....."

I was in a dark suit and Mistress had a very dark blue dress on that verged on black.  Mourning attire.  She reminded me of that old Johnny Cash line. He always dressed in black and when someone asked why he always looked like he was going to a funeral, he would respond "Maybe I am...."

But before my "funeral" started, there was time for what could be our last in office worship. Mistress wriggled one leg out of those silky black tights. I pushed a chair against the door, draped that all purpose blanket on her "throne" and went to work.  It was a melancholy moment in a way. Savoring those musky juices and reminiscing about all the cums I had been able to deliver her in that sealed chamber sitting 28 floors above the River City street grid.  As usual, it did not take Mistress long to  ascend to the state of sexual bliss that my practiced tongue has been trained to deliver. I suppose we both have a pavlovian response to this special space.

After the dust settled and her pulse returned to the norm she rearranged her clothing for our little party, and I caught this fetching view of her black tighted bottom.  A bonus shot for our readers.


But will it be the Last Time?  I do know the fellow (Mike) who will be taking over my office come January. In fact, he is a tall handsome guy who has always had an eye for Mistress. They spent a good bit of time last night chatting each other up (or was it flirting?) as I accepted the congratulations of my colleagues and our staff on my "much deserved" retirement.  Who knows, maybe Mike will let us borrow the space from time to time in the future. Or, better yet, maybe Mistress can train Mike to perform comparable services should she decide she misses the view.

'Tis the Season....

Here in River City Mistress and slave have been counting the days until our holiday family duties are over and we can head west for some post-Christmas skiing at our SW hideaway. But that doesn't mean we can't have a little kinky fun.

Over the weekend there was some hot morning sex and afternoon worship, including the deployment of Mistress's favorite power tool for a little extra Sunday morning thrill. And tomorrow night there are plans for Mistress's lover Jay to visit for dinner . . . and maybe more?

And while some may see this as the holiday season, slave with his peculiar  obsession, sees this as "tights season", with lots of ladies now distracting me with their tights' clad legs in various shades and designs....

Like this lady on the streetcar at lunch the other day:


Or this bank clerk taking some early winter sun at lunch time on a downtown square:


 Unfortunately, we don't have a subway in River City, so I don't get to take any sneaky photos like this:

Mistress surprised me when I came home last night, shortly after she ended her own busy work day meeting with clients.

"I have my special tights on today, slave...."

"You mean...."

"Yes, the peek-a-boo tights...."

"Yum....."

It didn't take me long to "persuade" Mistress to sit back on the bed and let her slave get to work on those easy to access clean shaven folds.... with my face pressed against the texture of her black tights as I worked hard with tongue and lips to please her. It was particularly intriguing to consider that she had been gallivanting around town, meeting with folks who had no idea that beneath her dark and elegant dress her her "lady bits" were free ranging.

Mistress seemed pleased with my efforts as I delivered her a apres work day cum.

"You do enjoy that, don't you slave...."

"You think?"

Making America Safe For Cuckolding Again

Mistress was getting ready for her first real "date" with her prospective side-dish when I got home from work last night.  I took particular pride in the fact that she chose some saucy turquoise undies I got her for Christmas last year.  The potential unveiling of her assets that John had proposed via text in Wednesday night were clearly on her mind.

And while I was tempted to offer to worship before she left for their rendezvous at his apartment, the downside would have been tempering the sexual edge that no likely had been building over the prospects of a first encounter with a new lover.

There was one snafu.  The plan was to meet at his place at around 6 pm, but there was an unanticipated delay. John was tied up in traffic on his way home. A certain pussy grabbing white supremacist was in town to soak in the adulation from the throngs, and his motorcade had locked up traffic throughout our typically sedate burg.  He was Making America Stuck in Traffic Again, and also getting in the way of some hot cuckolding sex!

Has he no shame?

Of course, we know the answer to that question.

But while the passion of the two recently acquainted love birds was delayed by our new Leader, it was not to be  denied.

Mistress left about 30 minutes after she had originally planned, and reported to me via text about 30 minutes later that she had arrived safely, despite horrific traffic. Of course, I had the coordinates of her encounter in case she "disappeared". Making dinner and catching up on Westworld and the news took up my evening. And at around 10 pm or so I texted her to make sure all was OK.  She responded a bit later that she was on her way home.

I did not get a fill debrief as we settled into bed.  Mistress was clearly tired.

"You can have a taste slave....but I don't need another orgasm. I think my body has had enough for tonight.."

You can be assured that I took her up on her offer, sampling the sweet, creamy mixture of juices that were the remnants of her date night.  I'm hoping that her body will have recovered in time for Friday morning wake-up sex.

Just When You Least Expect It....

As reported yesterday, Mistress was on the verge of giving up her quest for a new "side-dish", at least through the holidays. The pickings were slim on AM this time around, and the comic relief was no longer worth the hassle.

But there was one final candidate. We had been trading emails with him for a few weeks. He was single and moving to town for a new job; and Mistress (or her corresponding secretary) provided some helpful tips on what neighborhoods to look at for his new home. Our trip to Europe and his own travels had delayed an initial meeting.

Mistress is averse to phone calls or texting until that first meeting. Her theory is that unless you find that initial spark when you meet someone, all that furtive texting or chatting via phone can be a waste of time.

So last night was to be their first real one on one communication. The plan was to meet at a neighborhood bar / restaurant for a drink. And Mistress was skeptical based on several prior meet ups of this type. As she primped for her "date", she grumbled a tad.

"I think I'd rather be taking a nap with you, slave....."

But she's the type to keep her commitments, and so she soldiered on into the night. Slave took a solo bike ride with plans to tackle some chores around the house.

After an hour I hadn't heard from her, so assumed that at least John had shown up and they had found one another. After about 90 minutes, I was wondering what my Mistress was up to.  She turned up at the door not long after that.

"So?"

"I actually liked him, slave....He's kind of hot".

She gushed a bit, describing him as a well educated business guy with an engineering background, who had lived in Chicago and LA in the past. Unlike his demographic archetype, he hadn't even voted for the pussy grabbing white supremacist. And he must have a sense of humor, one of the unstated requirements for any meaningful relationship with Mistress.  She handed me an "application"  he had typed up and provided that channeled some of the criteria listed on Mistress's AM profile:

APPLICATION

POSITION: MOLLY's SIDE DISH

APPlCANT: John ....;

QUALIFICATIONS:

EDUCATED: MBA

CHARMING: TBD

FIT: Somewhat

SINGLE: X

AVAILABLE: VERY

ABLE TO LAVISH WITH ATTENTION: XXXXX

TALL HEIGHT: 6'3'

HIGH SEX DRIVE: XXXXXXX

AGE BETWEEN 40-60:  X

More Information: Recently moved to River City, lots of time on my hands to focus on an interesting, fun woman. Goal is to achieve many pleasurable, fun experiences. Respectful, yet assertive and confident, very willing to take charge, No little blue pill required.

"So how did you leave it Mistress?"

"He wants to see me tomorrow night, slave...."

He clearly did, based on the text storm that transpired before and after dinner here at the UCTMW World HQ. Mistress showed her slave a few of the more provocative comments he made in his effort to woo her into a return engagement this evening.

Mistress and slave did discuss where this next rendezvous might occur.

"I'd rather have him come here, slave...."

"I can find something else to do and make myself scarce, Mistress...."

"No, that's not fair....."

"He might be a little creeped out with the cuckolded hubbie hanging around, at least at first...."

She took my point, and seemed inclined to meet him at his apartment, with a decision to be made today. Of course,  she confirmed his legitimacy on social media and google first. His back story checked out. But that first private meeting with a prospect can also be a little anxiety inducing.

"I asked him if he was a serial murderer, slave....."

"And what did he say?"

"Not lately...."

By the end of the evening, the anticipation of engaging with a new lover, stoked by some smutty text messages describing how he would prefer Mistress to unveil her charms for him,  had gotten Mistress a little "on edge".

"Maybe you should put that book down and worship, slave....."

Of course, her wish was my command. And slave was a little on edge himself.  As I dipped into her clean shaven folds with my well trained tongue, I noticed that the pump was already primed....

"You're pretty wet down here Mistress.... could it be that your encounter and communications tonight have gotten you aroused?"

"That's quite possible, slave....now get to work...."

She didn't have to tell me twice.