Yesterday marked an important milestone here at the Collins household in River City.
Our surly teen #1, who has mellowed a bit over the last two years on the surly scale, graduated from high school, thirty years to the week that her Mother, my beloved Mistress, graduated from the same high school, in a leafy old community, built along the railroad tracks, just outside of River City.
(At the graduation they mentioned this was the 127th graduating class of their school, putting the first one back in 1884! Yikes.)
For our teen, it represents one of many increasingly difficult hurdles she will face on life’s journey. There were speeches from fellow graduates and school system poobahs with all the buzzwords and phrases you might expect: goals, ambition, opportunity, ever lasting friendships, accomplishments, all the rest. Plus the occasional natural disaster, great recession, stock market collapse, terrorist attack, and E-coli infected sprouts.
Old cynical members on the audience resisted the temptation, at least on that wonderful day, to warm about what also might lay in wait: frustrations, disappointments, disloyalty, rejection, deterioration, loss.
The “kids”, decked out in white dresses and tuxedos on a day when the storm clouds cleared at just the right time for a beautiful outdoor ceremony, seemed so positive and pleased with themselves that their optimism was infectious.
And it was hard not to think of how this beautiful, beaming daughter came into our lives, and set Mistress and I off onto our journey about 19 years ago.
A few months back I spoke here a bit about our “Secret Origins” here at UCTMW. I left off with Mistress making a call at my office back in the spring of 1988, offering up what I had been flirting my ass off for many months to obtain.
(This was way before the day of flirtation via text message or email .Unlike an infamous member of Congress, I had to do it the old fashioned way, one glance, ambiguous caress, clever come-on remark at a time).
And me initially – almost in shock – suggesting that might not be as good an idea as it seemed.
Maybe like some of the other guys in Mistress’s life these days, I knew what that sort of physical union with such a dynamic beauty might lead to: a nearly fatal attraction that would upset my life in ways that would be hard to predict.
On the cusp of what I had been pursuing, I got very cold feet. Did I really want to put all else at risk for this hot and holy grail?
But, suffice it to say, Mick, even at the “mature” age of 38 did not have the discipline to say “no” to Molly for long. And – to my good fortune – she did not take that initial equivocation as an excuse to tell this dirty kind of old man to get lost.
By the end of the week we were safely locked away in a suburban hotel room, before the days when we could be tracked down via cell phone, with myself buried between Mistress’s long and shapely legs, my first taste of that sweet nectar that would become a life long addiction.
I recall that on that very first protocol, and long before any kink or D/s was ever part of our ritual, I began a protocol which lasts until this day: Mistress always “comes” first, and usually with lots of oral worship.
If I had a chance to address the male half of yesterday’s graduating class, that’s one word of very useful advice I would have been glad to pass on.
About a week later, our second “date” occurred in the unfurnished condo my father had recently purchased, overlooking the river. He was still assigned overseas, and was preparing to return to our City on retirement. I had the key. Opportunity knocked.
Believe it or not, Molly and Mick were so head over heels in lust and a budding love that night – lying naked on some blankets on the carpeted floor of Dad’s naked condo – that, in our post-orgasmic stupor, we selected the name that our sullen teen #1 ultimately acquired, about three years later.
And there she was yesterday, carrying a single rose, poised and confident, breaking the bond with her Mom’s old school, and taking the next step in life’s adventure.
My God. Time really does fly.
She’s already off, for a week’s vacation on a lakeshore to the north, with the boyfriend and his family.
Of course, she will be back. She will miss her kitties. And her college is but an hour away.
But she’s already teasing us about what her Mom and Dad will be up to when all the kids are out of the house.
Maybe she doesn’t think we are so boring after all.