Mistress's Generous Offer

It was another day in the cage here on Thursday…. Same “excuse”, not that one is needed… Mistress was leaving a little later, and taking the surly teen #2 to work with her. So Mick had to make sure the cage was in place before leaving for the office solo at my normal time.

One fringe benefit: Mistress had the side advantage of that harder than ordinaire cock, brought on by the tight ring around my cock and balls,  as I took advantage of permission to fuck her yesterday morning.

After work, we took the teen to a new pizza joint in the older part of the city… very urbanista, with a big wood fired oven imported from Naples. Yummy stuff. But our dinner out extended my cage day until around 8 pm…. By then my scrotum was getting a little tender. Mistress was determined to take a bike ride, but she was kind enough to release me first, even before giving me the chance for worship.

On our ride, we talked a bit about her conversations during the day with the WC. It seems his  closest colleague, let’s call him S, is going through an ugly divorce.  The wife is trying to serve him with papers. M has been advising him on how to handle this stress.

“M told S that he just needs to go out and get fucked…. To move on….”

“Sounds like good advice Mistress…. And what did you say….”

“I offered to help. S sounds like a nice guy. I told M I’d be happy to come out for a ‘sympathy fuck’”.

This is a concept we’ve talked about before.  Back in the day when Molly and Mick were ‘dating’ (married to other folks too), she often mentioned that she was tempted to provide a “sympathy fuck” to a mutual friend who had been doggedly coming onto her for some time. A nice guy, but not all that attractive to Molly (at least not nearly as attractive to the more alpha Mick in those days, at least that's what I told myself ).

Mistress never “succumbed” to that particular guy (0r so I am told), but my sense is there were a few notches on her belt, even at the young age of 27 or so, that fell into this category.  Folks that really were not in her “league” but that she dabbled with out of a sense of noblesse oblige? Or maybe just curiosity?

I’m wondering if any of our readers have a comment on this form of social interaction… have you engaged in the “mercy” or “sympathy” fuck…. Or is this just bad behavior? (I suppose it’s something a guy could do too.)

In any event, back you our little dialog.

“And how did M take your generous offer?”

“He didn’t like it at all, Slave….he said if there’s anyone out here you are going to fuck, it will be me.”

I laughed. I knew where this was heading. M can get a little possessive, jealous even, particularly for a guy who has not met his little Molly in the flesh to show her the famous "special occasion cock".

“And you said….”

“That I’d made that offer before, and what had it gotten me so far…. I even told him he could let S know he’s invited to our 4^th of July party at our mountain hideaway…(not too far a drive from Judge Miguel’s ‘county seat’.)

“Oh I’m sure he’ll pass that invitation along….”

“Right. He said that if anyone’s coming it would be him and B….”

“Well they're invited too Mistress….”

By the time we got home, and Slave had showered off, it seemed all this sex talk had us both in the “mood”.

“Why don’t you go insert your little device, Slave… I want a particularly hard cock…”

She meant the aneros, which had not been deployed in a week or so. And it certainly did the trick.

After I used my mouth and lips to bring Mistress to a series of little climaxes, her hips rolling, little gasps of pleasure escaping from her mouth, she teased my work-a-day cock to desperation with those nicely manicured fingers.

Until I was begging to fuck her.

Fortunately, she showed the same mercy to me that she had offered to show S.

As I took my pleasure from her, we revisited her conversation with the WC.

“I suppose if M won’t extend the offer, you could just email S directly, maybe with on of those hot photos.”

“Oh, Slave…. you really are a trouble maker.”

So true….

HNT / Q. and A. with our Senior Correspondent

The rising sun was shining through our bedroom window yesterday morning, and there was my beloved Mistress, lazing across the bed, naked, just waking from her beauty rest.

She confirmed that I would be wearing my cage again for the day – our sullen teen had consented to come down and chill at her office this week as an alternative to hanging around the house solo and therefore we would be driving separately. One can’t expect a teen to get out the door by 8:30 am!

But before I retrieved the steel ring that forms the base of my cage from my sock drawer, I picked up the camera to take a few shots of Molly to share with you. Almost artsy, don’t you think? (She even approved with out any cropping or snipping).

After that, it was a dive between Mistress’s legs, as she read my rather abbreviated post from yesterday. And once she had set aside the laptop and allowed herself a little wakeup cum, she was ready for the main course.

Reaching down to grip my tightly contained cock and balls, she made sure with a few deft strokes that I was properly engorged.

“Why don’t you fuck me now, Slave….”

“Happily, Mistress….”

Afterwards, she made sure my cage was locked tight, then I was off to work, and she was out for an early morning bike ride before having the nerve to wake the teen for a more abbreviated workday.

On my home, I made a call to our Senior Correspondent for a little editorial conference – wondering if I could prompt her for a contribution for me to use later in the week to make up for a little writer’s block.

She had a couple of questions that I answered, and thought I would share both with you:

Q. So, Mick, maybe it’s a little too personal, but doesn’t that cage get uncomfortable in this hot weather….

A. No, not too personal, Donna, since you know all sorts of embarrassing stuff about us already… Here’s the deal. It’s really only uncomfortable in the morning…. That blood gets trapped in my balls on the way to work for some reason, and it gets tight and actually kind of painful… in fact yesterday I was squirming and whining to myself on the drive in, wondering of I could make it through the day…. But it amy be a mind over matter deal. If I can mentally focus and somehow ‘persuade’ the blood vessels down there to relax, then relief is in sight….and once I start walking around in the office, and get distracted by the day’s activities, I can actually forget about it… at least until it’s time to take a leak. But since it seems to make Molly so much more secure, I can’t complain, can I?

Q; You mentioned Molly being insecure the other day. She’s so beautiful. Has a great job and family. What’s to be insecure about?

A. Well ask her about it, but yeah, she can be insecure. I screwed up back in 2008 when we had the whole commuter marriage thing going, and that other woman is still around. I don’t think she really thinks I would ever do that again, but if this makes her feel better, a little more secure, then it’s worth the sacrifice of a little discomfort from time to time. As with so many things, it goes back to her parents… in this case her father. And the whole Contract concept really arose from my desire to make her feel much more secure in our marriage… plus the bonus is that it can be quite a turn on too!

Q. SO what about the orgasm in the cage that Suzanne described the other day involving Tammy…. What’s with that….

A. You got me… no way I can imagine doing that… maybe his cage fits differently. Or his penis really is as small as Suzanne teases him about. (Sorry Tammy…. Maybe you can explain how that works on your blog). Maybe it’s an age thing: He’s a lot younger than me. But there’s no way I could cum in my cage.

As thunder storms began to converge on UCTMW’s branch office down in the Appalachians, we signed off. Soon I was home, where Mistress awaited, already down to the turquoise thong shown in a photo earlier this week. And while we had plans for a bike ride, first things first.

“Would you like some worship, Mistress.”

Because the teen has been coming to her office this week, there has been no time for her to slip away for some office devotions.

“Of course, Slave.”

She slipped out of the thong, slid onto the bed, and tossed a small pillow onto the floor for my aging knees.

As I went to work, a text came from the WC. Mistress was trying to see if there was a way to schedule a brief date with him. And then she had an inspiration.

“Look up, Slave…. I’m sending M a photo.”

She snapped. And then showed me a picture of me looking up, mouth still firmly attached to her clean shaven folds, eyebrows raised in amusement, as if I was at a snooty wine tasting in Bordeaux, sampling an insouciant young red with a bit too much tannin….

M was impressed. But that’s not a photo for HNT….

Day in the Cage

Woke up this morning a little later than normal, fans. So this may be a brief post.  I don’t want my morning window of opportunity to serve Mistress to pass by.

Yesterday, we got back on track with our preferred “two a day” regime. There was some very satisfying morning sex, enhanced by the fact that I had been told to the day would be a “cage” day.  Molly had persuaded surly teen #2 to come spend the day at her office, so they would be leaving a little later, and we would not be carpooling it.

So I knew that meant I’d be in my steel cage for the day.

Which was rather tight and ouchy, if you don’t mind me saying. Over at All Mine yesterday, Suzanne told about the ass fucking she gave Tammy, whilst in his cage, and the “contained” orgasm it produced.

Quite frankly, I can’t even imagine that happening with my cage on. No room to stretch out and express one self for my “work-a-day” cock. But more power to Tammy for “gettin’ ‘er done”.

Of course the bonus for Mistress when the ring is on, but the cage cover is not yet in place, is that she gets the particularly firm cock that is produced by the tight hug of that steel ring surrounding my cock and balls.

“Ohhh…. I do like that, Slave.”

And when Slave finally comes, well, as they say in the Irish Spring commercial, “I like it too.”

I had a meeting after work with some political co-conspirators, and the women of the house stopped on the way home for sushi. So the feeding part of the evening was all taken care of when I arrived home around 7 pm. There was time for some worship, the removal of my cage as a reward for a job well done, then a bike ride as the sun was beginning to go down.

And afterwards: well I was energized from the bike ride, as well as my long day in the cage.  So when Mistress enquired whether I would like to take advantage of my cock’s hard earned freedom, I was more than happy to exercise the privilege.

But only after making sure that Mistress had one of those hip jerking climaxes with the help of my devoted lips and tongue.

Mistress always comes first.

Looking for your Input

Today we’re looking for a little input, on a couple of subjects.

First, on photos of  Mistress’s lovely bottom. After our morning sexual engagement, Mistress was busily at work primping for her Monday workday. The image of her sweet ass framed by her turquoise thing inspired me to pick up my little camera and snap a few shots.

Later, last night, as I smirked and snarked my way through the GOP debate, Mistress asked to see the photos I had taken, and whether I planned to put any of them on the blog.

Her original review was negative. She is protective of her image (not as protective as a certain ½ term Governor, but still….) and retains the right to veto any thing I might post. But I offered to do a little cropping and refocusing of things to enhance the image. No alterations mind you… but ‘presentation’ can be critical.

She seemed pleased with my work, which is the image that follows:

But she was not completely satisfied, and took her own hand at the image, exploiting some newly discovered features on her I-photo App. Here is her work product.

So friends, what do you think: which image would you prefer?

Another subject that came up yesterday, has to do with the staging of her next date with our WC, the rogue Judge Miguel.

I was applying my lips and tongue to Mistress’s molten, moist folds yesterday in my office. Mistress had stopped by for a little appetizer before her lunch engagement.

That’s when she mentioned a logistical problem.

“M wants to have a date on Thursday morning, Slave… but I’m reluctant because (sullen teen #2) will be home….”

Summer vacation has begun, and without a summer job, our not-so-little teen is in  hang around the house in the am mode. Of course there’s no guarantee when she might get up, but there’s a good chance she might be conscious and lurking about at 10 am on Thursday, and a little suspect if her Mom has herself locked away in her bedroom, moaning into the handset, her power tool humming.

Even the thought of her barging in could be a mood killer.

I promised to think on her dilemma, and later that evening, in a little post work, pre-bike ride worship, me on my knees and Mistress spread across my bed, I shared some ideas.

“You could bring the Hitachi down to my office Mistress….”

“And would you just me hanging around, watching, Slave….”

“Well that’s a thought, but I was thinking I would just let you do your thing, and I could work in a conference room until your business was done. I don’t think anyone would mind. We could turn on some music to dampen your moans, Mistress.”

“But your office doesn’t have a lock, Slave…. what if someone walks in?”

“I think that’s pretty unlikely, Mistress….most folks take the closed door as a sign to come back later… or they’d knock.”

But Mistress didn’t seem inclined to take the risk. And it would seem pretty strange if I camped outside the door, standing guard.

I also reminded Mistress that we have one of those electrical converters we bought to let the kids plug their computers in while in the car for that long car ride out west at Christmas time.

“You could do it in the car, Mistress…. Find a quiet parking place….”

“Not sure I want to risk some curious cop knocking on my steamy window, Slave….”

So there you have it. Mistress wants to arrange a date with M, but the logistics are complicated. Any solutions?

"Catch our Breath" Sunday, and a Consumer Review from Bill and Donna

Molly and Mick were still a little too over-scheduled yesterday, as the big graduation weekend wound down.

Of course, the new graduate cleverly executed an exit strategy, heading north for a week at a great lake beach with her boyfriend and his family. Leaving her doting parents to clean up the mess, and attend a breakfast brunch thrown by her grandmother sort of in her absentia honor. 

Clever girl.

Since we had been losing exercise time, our Switch Day activities were sacrificed for a long bike ride.

But that’s not to say that Molly and Mick were sexually dormant. Mistress was worshipped as she read the blog yesterday morning. And then I gave her a Sunday treat: the Hitachi magic wand was deployed, generating all that writhing and moaning that a mere tongue, no matter how skilled can hardly replicate.  And Slave earned his reward afterwards, as Molly used her best, “fuck me, Slave” voice once the Hitachi had done its best on her.

After that, things were pretty barren here from a sexy POV. The brunch at grandma’s. Slave had to give a lecture about the sad life of a anti-war singer songwriter who flamed out in the late 60’s , early 70’s.  Mistress opted for some time in the sun, a far better choice, since the heat and humidity wave here had finally broken.

Last evening, we did get to go see the new Woody Allen movie, “Midnight in Paris”, with surly teen number 2. We liked it, though the only sex amounted to a few allusions. Lovely vistas of the City of Lights.  Typically witty, if overly loquacious dialogue. 

On the other hand the teen  seemed pretty bored. Apparently high school English must no longer include Hemingway and Fitzgerald, who had cameo roles in this amusing time travel fantasy.

It was Bill and Donna’s turn this month to act as dispassionate (Hah!) consumer product testers for our friends at EdenFantasies.com. And since today’s blog is a little lame on the sex side, I thought I would throw in today the outcome of their “research” on their latest choice from the Eden Fantasies Bondage and fetish collection: the SLUT paddle:

From Bill:

What’s not to like about a good paddle which could mark your lover’s bottom with the word “SLUT”! The paddle is 12 ½ inches long with a split and the word slut cut out and backed in red.

I found the weight of the paddle to be a little light, but I have big hands. The grip is well done and gives you a firm grasp for a hardy swing. The paddle also sounds good when applied to a receptive ass cheek and produces a lovely redness.

My one disappointment was that I could not get the paddle to leave SLUT on my beloved’s ass. It became a very nice red and it was toasty warm, but no words appeared. That said, the paddle looks nice, and Donna’s ass looked nice, so no complaints at all.

I accidentally left the slut paddle out when the woman who helps clean came over this week. We later noticed the paddle had been polished and repositioned on the center of the headboard, so I think our helper must have appreciated its beauty, too.  

While I think this paddle would be more effective if the wording were raised a bit, all in all it’s a nice addition to the toy box and when used with the Hitachi provided a very good time for all!

From Donna:

I agree that the paddle is great. It is attractive, makes a great cracking -almost popping-  sound and gives quite a little sting.

As far as imprinting a word across my backside, it left stripes on me and it might leave the word on someone else. Maybe my padding back there that isn’t exactly the right thickness or consistency for imprinting a word. I will absolutely vouch for the fact that Bill gave it a really, really good try from different angles and positions and over the course of a couple of sessions.

In speaking with Mick earlier in the week I told him that we both like the paddle but Bill couldn’t get the word to appear. Mick suggested that I try it on Bill and see whether it might imprint the word on his butt…you know,  for the sake of pure research and investigative theory. Bill’s response was a very simple, “NO!” and a reminder that he is the spanker, not the spankee.

Since it has been recently cleaned and polished, Bill thinks perhaps we should offer to lend it to Molly and see if maybe Mick’s butt is the right consistency to hold a SLUT. I’m not touching that one with a ten foot pole.

Transitions and Flash Backs

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.

Our Senior Correspondent on Love and Books

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