It was a glorious day in River City yesterday. Somehow the sun was shining and temperatures rose into the 60’s. Of course, that meant Mistress and her acolyte when it comes to sun worshipping – surly teen #1 – unearthed long buried bikinis and were out on our deck absorbing dangerous ultraviolet rays by about 11 am.
Rest assured, Mick did get some early morning action, after dutifully worshiping Mistress, before the sun rose too high. And there was a very vigorous bike ride too, before I was off on some errands and Mistress and the teen were in full sun bathing mode.
But as the sun got lower in the sky….Mistress reminded me that it was a day for some serious ass fucking of her Slave….
But before we get to that part of this morning’s essay, I want to respond to some questions forwarded to us as part of this weeks Q and A blogger ritual.
If there are more questions out there, please let us know before question time ends. (also, feel free to forward questions for our international staff, I’m sure they would be happy to co-operate, though the WC may somehow treat the effort as overtime. I note that he and Suzanne were trading some provocative Q and A over at All Mine yesterday which you may want to check out.)
1. Why does Molly wear panties in bed? I would think you would be a butt naked couple.
2. Other than avoiding wheat, does Molly have to pay attention to her diet? She looks so fit and healthy and I know her VERY active sex life and bicycling play a part in keeping her cute figure, but is there a dietary aspect to that, too? Watch your answer here, many are already jealous and you don't want to stir up any really hard feelings among your female readers - some of whom have to watch every damn piece of food that passes between their lips. Just wondering, in a non-violent sort of way.
Mistress is very conscious of her diet. Despite the Irish surname, she tries to avoid potatoes and other starchy things. Her favorite meal would be grilled fish and stir-fried veggies. But she does have a weak spot for our local chili parlors, spelt pizza and sweets, including chocolate and our locally made and ever so delicious ice cream. As you know, Slave has been punished for raising an eyebrow when Mistress takes her breakfast in the form of an ice cream sundae. And the teens know they can get a rise out of her simply by mentioning the word “tater-tots.” Fortunately, her aggressive exercise regime allows her these occasional indulgences.
No one has had the nerve to say anything to me about what happens behind closed doors in that corner office perched high above River City. I do wonder if they raise their own eyebrows among themselves about Mistress’s frequent visits and the fact that our door is quickly shut. Or if they hear the subtle clunking of her head against the door in the throws of her passion. Recently a female attorney who has the office next door described Mistress as “delightful”, and said that I must be happy to have her work so close that she can stop by frequently. I simply agreed with her. But I suspect that she and others in the office see me as the stuffy older partner type who would never consider engaging in lurid acts of sexual depravity behind an unlocked door.
4. The word is out in Blogland that the thought of having an empty nest brings overwhelming sadness, so you will be starting a 24/7 "Please Let Us Babysit Your Teenagers" service. Any truth to those rumors?
Uhhh….. No. Mick has not had an empty nest since about 1978. And Molly has done a very good Momming job for these last 19 years. Our work here is done. At least almost done. We are already plotting a way to move into a house with no guest rooms or closet space in a few years, just to avoid the “bounce back” child syndrome.
5. The other rumor, which carries more weight in my book, is that you will be starting up a Dungeon Club in your town and luring Donna and Bill into your employ with the offer of great sums of money and unlimited access to everything and everyone in the Dungeon . How about those rumors? Please?
The thought of a dungeon here in conservative River City make me chuckle. But it definitely could be done. There are some great old buildings that are underused with cavernous basements, high ceiling and tunnels. (Check out this video for the type of rooms that could be made available.)What we need is a sugar daddy. Or maybe the WC could persuade the Teamsters Pension Fund to advance us a couple of large ones. I hear they don’t insist on a particularly detailed business plan so long as your sponsor has some “juice”. And should Bill and Donna decide to join us in this deviant enterprise, well, I’m not sure I can promise great sums of money, but they could have first dibs on the newbie’s, and play with the toys all they want….
I hope this sated the curiosity of our (somewhat) anonymous questioner.
Now, as for yesterday afternoon…. As the sun began to sink a bit, driving its rays from our little deck, Mistress came inside, in search of her Slave who had been pouring over our tax documents, one of those hated annual rituals, that makes me yearn for Steve Forbes’ infamous “flat tax”.
“It’s that time, Slave…”
I shuffled my papers into some semblance of order, then headed upstairs.
“Why don’t you get out my supplies, Slave….”
I followed my orders, finding her harness and faux cock. And the lubricant, of course.
We had missed this little ritual the last two weeks due to some scheduling complications. So my ass was probably a little tighter than normal. And Mistress was gentle as first as she allowed me to help guide her “cock” home. But soon, once I was amply penetrated, Mistress picked up the pace, thrusting into me with a robust delight.
“You like this don’t you, Slave…..”
“I must say I do, Mistress…..”
My cock was hard, pressed against the pillow under my hips, and Mistress’s thrusts were making it harder, more desperate.
At some point, Mistress surrendered to her own powerful cum, moaning, and pressing her pelvis even harder against my fleshy ass, before she collapsed down onto me, her hand sliding along my flank.
But after a little rest, she withdrew, stepping off the bed to shed her harness.
“Why don’t you go put in your device Slave (the little white aneros), and come back to bed and fuck me….”
She didn’t have to ask me twice.