Oops!

Molly and Mick are headed to our undisclosed location in the great southwest for a week of child free vacation.  We invited our Western Correspondent to join us, with or without the mysterious B. But, alas, it seems he is unavailable. Maybe next time.

But Mistress did report an interesting conversation today that I hereby add to the annals of our amusing interactions for our readers' diversion.

It went something like this, as we were driving through ehavy River City traffic to get to the airport for our escape.

"M had a bike accident today, Slave....while we were talking on the phone."

"Huh...how did that happen?"

"Well, one minute we were talking...and then he was suddenly cut off."

"You were talking while he was riding his bike?"

"Yes, Slave ....he calls me sometimes when he's riding his bike to his office."

(I know, This is sounding like an Irish Spring commercial. Manly, yes. But kind of stupid too. )

"So, anyway, when he called back, he said he had an accident. Broke his mirror."

"Crazy, Mistress. we're you talking about something smutty?"

"Hmmm...I think we were."

I could imagine M being a little distracted by their sex chat, then losing control as he tries to entice Mistress to paw herself in some wanton way.

"Hope he's OK, Mistress. You don't want to lose him to some semi-tractor before you get a chance to ride his cock, do you?"



Mistress agreed, but was reassuring.

"He seemed OK when we talked later, Slave."

Maybe our Western Correspondent needs to park his bike before commencing his sex chat in the future.