It was very cold here in River City yesterday morning …. The warmth of our bed won the debate over whether to take that early morning bike ride. So that gave Molly and Mick a little more time than normal to explore bodies and plumb the depths of our desire for one another.
Nice. Very Nice.
But duty called, and our day got away from us after that.
We did get to talk briefly with Aisha on our drive downtown. Glad she seems to have gotten over her early morning blues and heard from D. Wish she was coming to River City for today. We really do need a buffer guest to help us work our way through an afternoon with our extended family B list.
Then there was Work. Lunch with the surly teens downtown at an Italian joint. (They were surprisingly un-surly, probably happy to have a long weekend ahead with minimal parental supervision). And Mistress headed home with them, while I stayed at the office to finish some work before our little trip out West.
Of course, missing from this scenario was the sort of attention that Mistress has come to expect: no opportunity for that mid-day release that she gets sitting on her little throne in my office.
Not to worry.
That’s where our Western Correspondent came in to pick up the slack.
Actually, he’s been earning his keep lately. Writer’s block seems to have cleared for him, and we’ve appreciated his comments and contributions of late. I just hope he doesn’t decide to free lance once he discovers we are cranking up the employee contribution and deductible on the UCTMW Enterprises Health Care Plan.
Actually, one big concern I have is a potential WC claim by our WC. As in Worker’s Comp. Mistress read me an email from him yesterday morning describing some damage done to the special occasion cock Turns out that M had run out of briefs (or is it boxers?). So he wore jeans “commando” for his bike ride. In that cold mountain air.
Been there, burned that.
Nothing like a little cock abrasion to cramp your style.
M, that sounds like a classic off-duty “frolic and detour”. I don’t want to see a letter from the WC Office in my email inbox with any bogus claim.
But M was not being selfish, yesterday afternoon, despite his disability. M made time for Mistress, who was home. And horny.
Around 3 or so I got a text from Mistress:
“Date with M at 4 pm, Slave….”
She even called to make sure her Slave was cool with her extracurricular plans.
Of course, I was. Mistress has her needs, and when I am neglectful or other wise preoccupied, it’s only fair that she fill them at her discretion. Don’t you agree?
When I got home, Mistress was on our room, primping for a pre-Thanksgiving dinner at her Mother’s house. (We needed to exercise those stomach muscles to get them more supple and elastic for this afternoon’s feast).
And she seemed…. Satisfied. I could tell that her lovely folds and the Hitachi had gotten a good work out.
She had that well fucked and content look in her eye.
“Did you enjoy yourself, Mistress?”
“And Mike, was he able to handle his injured ‘junk’.”
“No… he was in his office and expecting some type of delivery…”
I suppose it is a little embarrassing to sign for a FedEx delivery with your pants around your ankles.
In any event, we hope that our Western Correspondent enjoys a well deserved holiday with his family and that his recovery from that abrasion is prompt and complete.
We’d hate to have to put him on the Injured Reserve list. Then he’d be out for the season.
And we hope all of our stateside readers have a great Thanksgiving too!