Down to the River

 Slave slept fitfully the rest of Saturday night / Sunday morning, haunted and horny in equal parts contemplating the proceedings in an adjoining tent.  That plus Scott's foam sleeping pad wasn't nearly as comfy as the inflated number that he and Mistress were sharing. 

As dawn broke over Havasupai Gardens, I was up snd getting our breakfast provisions together. Mistress emerged briefly, on her way to the surprisingly clean facilities at the camp ground. On her way back she gave me a brief big and kiss.  

"He's got some 'morning wood' for me to take care of Slave... this could take a little while....."

The morning coffee service was delayed as I waited patiently for the commotion in their tent to die down. It was hard to ignore the rustling and Mistress's barely stifled moans and labored breathing as she clearly enjoyed that "wood".  Finally, when things settled down again, I mustered the courage to interfere.

"Are you too ready for coffee?"

"Go for it, slave."  

That was Scott, earning a "Yes, Sir....."

Water boiled, I mixed their brews (Mistress gets decaf) and handed them through the flap of their tent. What I was able to see were two barely covered bodies, reclining in post coital bliss. It seemed Scott's meaty paw was still lingering amidst Mistress's damp, clean shaven folds. 

I was also pleased to see that our new inflatable sleeping pad survived the onslaught. 

"Thanks, Slave....", Mistress and Scott responded in near unison. 

 I suspect the two new lovers were tempted to linger longer, maybe for a round 3, in their toasty tent, but the trail called. Soon they emerged, Mistress in shorts for the trail, but with a warm jacket to handle the morning chill.  I boiled more water for additional coffee and then some oatmeal. When Scott headed off to the facilities, Mistress shared a little more about her night....and morning.

"I'm going to be a little tender down there today, Slave.....Scott was pretty ravenous last night. And again this morning....."

" Awww.....Poor Mistress...."

"I guess there is a price to pay for my 'free pass after all'".

"More cock riding?"

"That....and him from behind for a while this morning....."

By then Scott was back. We stowed the food again, and loaded light packs with some water and snacks for the trail. 

Scott led the way down the trail. Within an hour as we walked deeper into the Canyon and the sun rose over the rim, temperatures rose and we shed layers. Mistress was fetching in her shorts and clingy top, drawing admiring gazes from both Scott and her slave.  All that sex seemed to add a little more sway to her stride.  

Dramatic vistas unveiled before us.  Within about 2.5 hours we finally found ourselves on the banks of the Colorado River.  Instead of the winter like conditions on the rim, it was Spring down here.

It took us another two hours to walk east along the River to Phantom Ranch, a rustic collection of cabins and lodges where hikers who win the lottery can actually spend the night sans tent. We stopped at their canteen for some lemonade and snacks before turning around and heading back up the trail. In contrast to the snow and ice encrusted rim, the Canyon's base was all cactus and blooming cottonwoods. 

Through the day, the trail had been busy. Some younger, fitter hikers were determined to make the rim to river and back again marathon all in one day.  Others had spent the night at Phantom Ranch and were on their  return trek. Some were cruising, others struggling. We could take a more leisurely pace over our 14 mile round trip, finally returning to camp around 5 pm.  And while there were a few scattered PDAs between Scott and Mistress along the trail, all of us were primarily focused on the journey. It wasn't until we settled down at the picnic table at our campgrounds that  conversation refocused on kink.

Slave had whipped up some more freeze dried meals - some sort of chicken stew concoction - not so bad. We all sipped some tea, resting our fatigued legs.  Then Scott launched into a new topic.

"So in scanning your blog on Friday night, I noticed something about 'switch day'?

"Yeah.  We put that in the contract to create a little 'balance of power'," I responded, wearing my lawyerly hat. 

"And there were some photos of Molly bound, and with a riding crop?"

"Mick liked to post photos like that.... they always seemed to get a rise out of our readers...", Mistress added. 

"And how did you respond to that, mistress? Getting bound and cropped isn't very Mistressy."

"Hmmm..... it was hot. Before this whole Mistress and slave thing, Mick was more into that sort of thing, and I must say it was a turn on for me."

"She once told me there was a college boyfriend who liked to tie her up and fuck her."

"Slave.....!" 

Apparently I was sharing a little too much.

"Is that true?"

"Yes....it was my first intro to that sort of thing.  And it was pretty exotic for college sex."

"Interesting.....maybe we explore a little of that tonight before we head in different directions tomorrow morning "

To be continued..... 

Mistress Shares A Tent With Her Lover

 It was only about 8 pm, but the sun was down, temperatures were dropping fast, and we had a long day on the trail ahead of us. Did that explain why Mistress and Scott retired to their shared tent so early? Or were they both all too anxious to consummate their budding connection?

I was guessing the latter as I finished "the dishes", stowed away our food stuffs in a varmint proof container provided by the Park Service, hit the facilities and then slid into my lonely one-person tent.  

Their shared tent was about 20 yards away. At first it was internally illuminated by an electric lamp.  I could see forms moving about inside, including bodies smushing together and layers being removed. But soon the light was out, their tent bathed only in moonlight. 

Of course, Slave's mind was roaming directly into the gutter by now. Speculating about how quickly Scott was rounding the bases and heading for home with my sweet and sexy Mistress. 

And yet... despite the temptation, I heeded Mistress's invocation to forego any "self-abuse".  I knew Mistress enough to realize there would ultimately be a generous reward for my deferred satisfaction. I tried to distract myself by reading a novel on my Kindle. At some point I must have drifted off, only to be awoken by a whisper outside my tent.

"Slave....are you awake in there?"

"I am now, Mistress...what's up?"

"Well....it's about 11, we're going to sleep now, but Scott said I could 'tuck you in' on my way to the facilities."

"It's nice he gave you permission, Mistress," said with just a little snark. 

"He is getting a bit more .....assertive."

"And you like that, don't you?"

By now I had slid from my toasty sleeping bag and zipped open the tent flap.  Mistress was standing outside the tent, wearing a fleece jacket, thick hiking socks and....apparently nothing else. 

"It's kind of hot, slave....He's definitely enjoying taking increasing charge on this little adventure."

"And did that happen inside the tent."

"Ohhh Definitely. And Scott says ' why not give the slave a taste' if he wants."

Of course I wanted.....

Out on the firm ground now, on my knees before Mistress, it was hard not to catch a whiff of her arousal, mixed with the scent of her new lover. Hot.....

"So he fucked you Mistress?"

"More than once, Slave....."

"How'd that new sleeping mat work?"

"Not bad slave....we gave it a work-out for sure. It's cozy in there, and got pretty warm once things got going...."

"Details?"

"Not time for all that now, slave....it's getting late and he's expecting me back soon. Let's just say I rode his cock to more than a  few cums.  He's got quite a bit of stamina and, well, I'm pretty tender from that big cock ."

She spread her legs.  "So, do you want a taste, or not?"

"Of course, Mistress."

Slave shook off the slumbers and went to work, probing gently at first with my tongue.  The mix of salty residues from Mistress's clean shaven folds - a spicy combo of her own juices and Scott's remnants - got my own juices flowing.  But as I picked up the pace, pushing Mistress toward another cum, she backed off a bit.  

"Enough slave....you got your taste...but Scott says all my orgasms belong to him for the next 48 hours. And that you're cut off until we get back to civilization on Monday."

"Oh.... he really is is taking charge isn't he, Mistress."

"Ummm....yes. And I think you and I both like that, don't we?"

She had my number. And he seemed to have hers.

"Time to go back to sleep, Slave.....Big day tomorrow.  By the way, Scott says to tell you he likes his morning coffee black...."

This flashed me back to our days back in River City, when Mistress had occasional sleep overs with her lovers, and I served them coffee in bed in the morning.

"I'll be on top of it Mistress...."

"And I'll be on top of him....", she responded, dreamily.

She was already contemplating wake-up sex before, or after my coffee service?

She gave me a tender kiss good night, and headed off in the direction of the campground restrooms. I slid back into my tent and sleeping bag, still semi-aroused from my chance to graze betwixt Mistress's legs. And yet I made sure to keep hands off, as Mistress had enjoined. It was still late Saturday night, and I  considered how far the two new lovers had come since we met Scott  on Friday afternoon. I had to wonder what came next.

To Be Continued...

Cuckolded at the Campground

 After our frank conversation with Scott (who says he now prefers me to address him as "Sir"), Mistress excused herself to their tent to "change into something more comfortable". In her absence, Scott got even more frank with me.....

"So Mick, or 'Slave', as your wife  calls you.... you really are OK with me having my way with her?"

"Believe it or not, yes."

"You're not going to go all postal on me if we make love in that tent over there....or if she gives me the blow job she promises is in my future?"

So that's what they've been whispering about?

"She has her freedom on that front....just be gentle...unless she indicates she's looking for something more, say, forceful"

"Don't worry Slave.....I think we have an understanding about what's in or out of her limits, and while I might push them a tad, she's really the one in charge...."

"Good to know....Sir....."

Just about then Mistress emerged from their tent, hiking pants gone, wearing one of those simple Eddie Bauer travel dresses she prefers for our road trips , in a deep green, a dress that stopped at mid thigh.  Simple, but displaying those strong shapely legs to their advantage.  Of course, she still had on those sturdy hiking boots.  

"Guess I should have packed some camp shoes?", She asked us.

"Oh those will do .... ", Scott said, eyeing her admiringly. "Maybe you and I should go for a little walk while 'slave' here is getting our dinners together."

He led Mistress off in the direction of a vista point north of our campsite, arm possessively around her waist, murmuring something into her ear that produced a nervous laugh, and an exaggerated sway of her hips.

Hmmm......was there a trail quickie in their near future?

While they strolled off, I busied myself getting our little camp stove set up, and assembled the variety of freeze dried meals we had packed for our trip.  About 40 minutes later Mistress and Scott were back, guilty grins on their faces.  Mistress's hair seemed considerably more disheveled than when they had departed. 

She excused herself to the nearby campground "facilities" to "feshen up". 

Scott say down at our picnic table as I fiddled with dinner prep. 

"Does she always walk off with other men without undies, Slave?" 

"It's been known to happen...uhhh....Sir."

"I do appreciate a woman who's clean shaven.  Always tastes so much better that way....and I must say your wife is very tasty.....could get addictive."

Why was this simple conversation making my cock surge?  The pathetic plight of a cuckold I suppose.

"Chalk me up as an addict . . . Sir."

"Understood. And she has such lovely soft lips  too.....can't say I've had such a satisfying blow job in a very long time...."

Yikes.  I  hoped Mistress would share all the naughty details when (or if) we got some private time.

Mistress ambled back to the camp site, still glowing from what I surmised was an al fresco cum, or two. 

As the sun was beginning to sink over the Canyon's rim, the wind was picking up. Slave got the water boiling, pouring it into the foil packets that would reconstitute into our dinner meals.  There was more water boiled for instant coffee and tea to wash dinner down.  All of us added an extra layer to beat back the chill. 

We chatted over our meal about plans for the morning - a hike down to the bottom of the Canyon - hopefully all the way to Phantom Ranch.  It was an ambitious agenda - maybe 14 mile down and back to our camp site.  But Mistress and slave were determined to make it down to the River on this trip, and Scott, who had done it before, was game to lead the way. 

As dusk settled onto our campgrounds, Scott slid off to the facilities and Mistress and Slave had a little heart-to-heart.  

"So things got hot on your little walk, Mistress?"

"What do you think, Slave?"

"Well based on what Scott mentioned, seems he enjoyed your clean shaven folds and the attention of your lovely lips."

"Oh he spilled the beans, huh?"

"I think it was taunting."

"Only because it turns you on."

Sad, but true.

We could see Scott  headed back our way. Our private time was running out.

"So you got to handle his cock, Mistress?", I whispered.

"I did, Slave."

"And?"

"Impressive. Not quite as big as that guy from the Forest Service.  But....impressive."

"I have a feeling you may become more familiar with it tonight?"

"Seems inevitable. But remember.....no touching no matter how inspired you are by these developments. Without the cage, I guess you're on the honor system.  Can you do that?"

"Yes, Mistress."

She gave me a little kiss. 

Scott was back now, sidling up to Mistress on the picnic table bench. Arm around her again. He helped himself to a kiss of his own, but this one ended up with tongue and wandering hands, laying it on a little thick for my benefit, no doubt. PDA's are just part of the cuckolder playbook I suppose.

Ultimately, they came up for air. "It's getting cold now that the sun's down. And we have a long day on the trail tomorrow.  Maybe it's time to snuggle into our sleeping bags?"

It wasn't so much as a question from Scott as a directive.....

"We don't have a handy 'do not disturb' sign for our tent, Slave", Scott smiled my way.  "But I think that's the ground rule for tonight.  Am I right, Mistress?"

"I think Mick understands that he's to behave himself in his tent tonight", raising an eyebrows in my direction. We both knew what that meant. 

"What a shame you forgot that cage.  I'd love to get a peak."

Then they said their good nights. 

I finished stowing away our food and eating supplies as Mistress and her new lover  zipped their tent flap closed.

It could be a lonely night. At least I had a warm down sleeping back to beat back the chill. 

To Be Continued.

Down in the Canyon

 Through the last 1.5 miles down to Havasupai Gardens, Slave led the way down the trail.  Scott and Mistress lingered back a bit,  talking to themselves, no doubt exploring what Scott had said about two "interesting nights" ahead of us. It was a tad intimidating that Scott already had a peak "behind the curtain" of our particular kinks. Example: Most of Mistress's past lovers had never actually read our blog, didn't know about things like the cage, our contract, or the occasional pegging that happens in our marital bed.

Finally there, nursing sore feet and shoulders, we selected two adjoining campsites in a quiet corner, set against a hillside at the boundary of the campgrounds.  Scott was already in "take charge" mode.

We were seated around a wooden picnic table at our site, back packs off and sitting nearby, sitting water and snacking on more trail mix.

"Before we set things up here, let's make sure we understand ourselves, OK?"

This seems directed at me.  My sense was Mistress knew where this was headed.

"Molly.... I take it you enjoyed our 'activities' last night. Are you willing to explore further?"

She didn't hesitate.

"Absolutely....."

"Mick, as I understand your 'contract' with Molly, you have no objection to whatever she and I might get up to over the next two nights?"

"As long as she is comfortable with it, then sure.  It's her call."

"In fact, all this is actually a turn on for you?"

"True...."

"OK then.... here's how this is going to work.  Molly and I will take this campground here", pointing to the most private location near a looming cottonwood tree. "We'll take your two person tent....you can have that site over there and my one person tent. Sounds good?"

Gulp.  This was actually happening.

Mistress simply nodded with what seemed to me to be a slight blush, no doubt contemplating her upcoming time with Scott in that tent.

"Fine by me", I said, with a surge of arousal at the thought of this take charge guy taking charge of our sleeping arrangements on the trail.

At that we set to work setting up camp.  Mistress has far more backpacking experience than me.... one of her many competencies beyond looking hot that we probably don't focus on enough in this blog. She confidently constructed our long dormant tent once I detached it from my pack.  Scott focused on setting up his own tent - the one I would occupy - under a shelter about 15 yards away.  

Tents constructed, packs were unloaded. It was hard not to take note of Mistress and Scott unfurling their sleeping bags and unpacking some of their clothes inside their temporary habitat. For a while they both were inside the tent as Slave set up in his more modest accommodation. It was hard not to take note of some giggling and murmuring emerging from their tent, or wonder whether the intimacies betwixt them had already started.

As set-up was nearly complete, Mistress had a logical request. 

"Slave, you know that two person sleeping mat you bought.....it seems best if we use that in our tent, don't you think.....you can use Scott's single mat."

"Of course, Mistress...."

 Scott was hovering nearby. It was hard not to notice his slight smirk as he heard our "Slave / Mistress" terminology live for the first time.  Seemed our roles were getting fixed for the night.

"So he's the 'slave' and you're the 'Mistress', what's that make me?"

"What do you want to be?", Molly responded, a glint of mischief in her eye. He slid next to her, a possessive arm around her waist.  They were standing, looming over me as I knelt next to my pack, pulling out our (now their) two person inflatable sleeping pad. 

"Master seems a little heavy handed.  Plain old Scott, maybe a little too informal under these circumstances. I guess "Sir" will do, don't you think.....?"

"That sounds reasonable, don't you think Slave?"

Another gulp. 

Yes, Sir."

Yes, this was going to be an interesting two nights.

To Be continued......