Bench Strength

I hope all of our readers enjoyed the wonderfully detailed and sexy blog from our Senior Correspondent yesterday. It was certainly a relief for your Executive Editor to know that I could feed this particular beast with some quality entertainment on Friday morning, even though I would be up late then out early, taking Surly teen #1 on a college visit.

It’s nice to have the depth of reporting and writing acumen here at UCTMW to provide cover without missing a beat when the Editor feels like being a slacker!

St. Pat’s Day here was a busy one. I was off to work early, all locked up in my cage, and Mistress was at home, with lots of pent up demand following that long 36 hours of so of sexual wasteland.

And, in case you are wondering, she did allow her dutiful Slave to fuck her Thursday morning before snapping the lock on my cage. I just wasn’t permitted to let her come, on orders of her Personal Trainer. It required a deft touch, because I could tell that Mistress was particularly horny, all amped up with the teasing she had gotten from M and me through the prior day.

I mean, requiring her to play with her little swollen clit every time she went to the loo? M, you had worked her into a frenzy.

So, when she offered to let me take my own pleasure, it seemed almost too cruel. But this Slave is weak. And writing the blog had gotten me rather needy too…. So in a moment of weakness I fully exploited the opportunity presented to me.

With the hard steel ring for my cage already in place, it probably took me a little longer than normal to get to the point where I was begging her permission. And when I exploded into her…. Well, I just hope the girls’ shower was turned on to muffle my moan.

“My goodness Slave, that must have been a good one….”

“Uhhh…. Yeahhh….”

Articulate, huh?

Later in the morning, Mistress had her “training” session with M. I’m sure she made some interesting sounds of her own. When she called me on her own drive to work she seemed pleased with herself.

“Done, Slave…..”

“And how many, Mistress?”

“At least three, Slave…. “

“And did M get to play too….”

“He did, Slave…. He seemed to enjoy himself rather well.”

So it sounded as if Mistress’s long suffering was rewarded.

Fortunately, she was able to drop by for a late ” lunch”. Naturally, there was time in my office for me to check out that green St. P Day thong she had emailed me before her date (It’s posted on Thursday blog).

(Green undies must have been the rage on Thursday. I understand that Tammy at All MIne wore some over his own cock cage when he went out for a few beers and some NCAA action with his friends).

Soon Mistress’s bright green thong was drooped around one leg, and I was on my knees, adding to Mistress’s O count for the day. She had some catching up to do.

At around 6 pm, it was time to change into my Tux for our annual gathering of the Friendly Sons. It’s an affair that is all male, but which seems in my mind to have lost its gregariousness as the years have passed Maybe the Sons are just getting too old and boring. Or the event too predictably routine. It’s not like the days when all got rowdy and smoked cigars into the night. Instead, it seems that we spend a good deal of time clapping ourselves on the back in congratulations that we lasted yet another year.

Boring.

Then again, maybe I was just anxious to get out of my cage. Sin, you may disagree, but I suspect I was the only Friendly Son with that sort of accessory hidden behind my cumberbund.

By the time I made it home, both Mistress and Slave were rather tuckered out. And I had an early departure time with our daughter.

For her part, Mistress was off with her mother to visit her aging grandmother a few hours away. It was an overnight trip

So Slave and Mistress have actually gone without sex for nearly two days as I type this.

Ouch.

I passed the time last night by making dinner for my daughter, nephew, son-in-law and two cute grandkids. Then caught some basketball. Congratulations to Suzanne and her alma mater! Good pick in that game….

Then it was off to a lonely bed. Mistress had no privacy, so there wasn’t even a chance for some smutty pre-sleep chat.

I woke with one of those nagging cock’s, and was sorely tempted to use a little self-help. But without permission, it just would not have been right.

And, quite frankly, it seems odd to be writing this blog at all, with no one up in the bed to present it to for reading while I consume her sweet juices under the covers.

Fortunately, Mistress should be home by around 1pm.

We have some catching up to do!