Heading Back to River City....

Saturday was our last full day here. Slave is up early at our High Desert Hideaway, getting ready for our drive back to the airport and "civilization". It's snowing and blustery, and as I gazed out into the dark field in front of our house I was a tad spooked?

Were those shadows just the chamisa bushes swaying in the wind?  No.... a little more studying made it clear these were beasts, grazing in our yard in the snow.  Too small for Buffalo (and there really aren't wild ones out here).  Maybe Elk? or a neighbor's cows or horses that got loose in the wind storm last night?  Hard to tell in the dark.

Heck, it could be those local Yak, on the lam to escape being stuffed into a tasty lasagna!

Wonder if they will still be there when the sun starts to peek over the mountain?

Speaking of sunrise, it could be a favorite time of the day here. Yesterday, the rising sun blazed through the window of our bedroom, bathing our bed in warm blinding light just as Mistress was riding her cock to a 2nd or 3rd cum.  After we were both spent, I asked her to stay in place so I could take this photo of her lovely sun streaked form.

Later we went back up to the Ski Mountain to get in a few last runs on our fading legs. Nine days in a row have taken a toll, and when the clouds moved in and wind picked up, we decided to beat a retreat back home for some last of the week lazing about.


On our of our last chair lift rides we were joined by a rather rugged, bearded ski patrol dude (no, not the object of Mistress's fantasy). Who was a taciturn sort. I had learned my lesson, and did not ask him if Dave ----- was on the mountain. But as we were riding Mistress played me a little.

"When we get home, I will need my 'supplies'"

Of course, I knew she was referring to her strap-on and its little accessory.

"I understand....", deleting her proper title (as she had mine) in deference to the Ski Patrol dude sitting beside her.

And sure enough, when Mistress and Slave arrived back at our cabin, after we stowed away all the ski paraphernalia for our next journey west, Mistress insisted I assemble the proper equipment for our afternoon diversion. Of course, I followed my orders to the T.

But then she reminded me of something else....

"Get the riding crop, Slave.... don't you still have to pay your obligation to Suzanne over that stupid sports bet?"

No..... wouldn't want to forget that. She had me take my place, and lit into my ass.... though I must admit I got off much lighter than either she or the WC did last week. I guess I've been a good Slave.  But she did take this picture to prove to Suzanne our debt had been satisfied.

"Make sure this gets posted, Slave.."

The Big Tease

Our time away here is winding down.

We have one more day on the slopes, an evening out at a favorite local restaurant and then, in the am, the slog back to River City. There is talk of snow here tonight, so we'll have to decide whether to bail out of here earlier than normal.

Yesterday we had a day of sunny skies, unseasonably warm temperatures, and great snow. (The photo is from the top of a favorite run, accessed by a short hike up off the more eaten path). But we cut our day short a little earlier than normal.... our legs are feeling 8 straigtht days on skis, and the sun on our patio was a little too tempting.

So we came back, stripped away the ski outerwear and read in the sun for a copule of hours before heading to bed for our traditional afternoon "nap". 

On this occasion, the napping part came first.  Mistress slept a little longer than me, but at around 4:30 I was paged to "serve" her.

Of course, those clean shaven folds had been calling my name for a while, and I was happy to dip in, and lavish them with the attention they so richly deserve.

When she was satisfied with the attention of my lips and tongue, she had further directions.

"Go put in your aneros, Slave.... I'm looking forward to a particularly hard cock."

Of course, I always follow orders, and slid back into bed with her with the aneros firmly in place.

She spent a good amount of time teasing her cock with fingers, then her warm full lips. It's a habit she's been into this week, and quite frankly, within a few minutes, Mistress  was driving me crazy.

"Can I fuck you now, Mistress....?"

Mistress came up for air, but only briefly.

"What's the rush Slave.... I'm enjoying this.....aren't you?"

She was back at it now, and Slave continued to squirm.

"Uhhhh..... yeah.... but you're driving me crazy.... why... not.... just... let.... me ....fuck ....you... Mistress...."

"Because it's so cute when you beg Slave....."

Well you can tell where this was going. There was begging.... more begging.... more squirming... more teasing and taunting.....Until finally Mistress decided to show some mercy, detaching those hot lips from Slave's longing cock, rolling over and letting me take her in the traditional way.


Ahhhh..... and it was certainly well worth the wait.

Censored

We've been enjoying the slopes and some amazing sunrises and sunsets here at our Hideaway this week. So excuse us for posting here  a few photos of our views. It's all in the interest of sharing a little aesthetic beauty, and padding the blog a bit as Slave gets a little lazy on this trip. 

This first photo is the sunset here last evening, as seen from our front yard.

There are also some nice sunrises that we can watch from our bed.  Yesterday morning, Mistress and I were in bed, playing with our laptops, Mistress engaging a bit with the local "disc jockey", who was on the radio commenting on all the sunrise photos from various vantage points popping up on his facebook page. He even gave "Molly and Mick" a shout-out for the photos we had posted, and Mistress's snappy facebook patter.

But soon it was time to turn off the radio. Mistress wanted to read the blog - with her Slave worshiping of course. And when my "work" was done, she was particularly fiesty, using those beautiful lips to make sure her cock was at full staff, then riding it to several bone shaking cums. Afterwords, Slave was permitted to finish up on top, begging for permission to cum, of course.

The next picture is the illuminated "Retalbo" on our living room wall, that has been lit by the setting sun each afternoon at this time of year. Now last Saturday, I had held out hope that this "miracle" was a good sign for the Tebows in their upcoming battle against the juggernaut from New England.

Of course, now we know that it was simply a matter of the earth's rotational timing.

But the consequences of our little bet with the folks at All Mine are not yet finished here. Yesterday I teased the WC about the absence of photographic proof of his thwacking by his wife B, which he recounted in excruciating detail for us on these pages.

Yesterday, as we were skiing, both Mistress and I found a text messaged photo from the WC pop up on our cell phones.

Gulp.

Now we walk a fine line here between adult content and the distasteful. If there is such a thing as an R rated sex blog, this is it.

And, sadly, Mistress and I concluded that the photo of the WC's generous, and still bruised, ass fell somewhere across the line we have drawn for ourselves.

So, Suzanne, just take our word for it. The WC paid off his bet.

The WC Pays Off His Gambling Debt

 Here in our Mountain Hideaway the days are moving too fast, and we are already dreading a return to River City on Sunday. We've settled into a nice routine -- morning sex, some reading or work, heading to the ski mountain, then, after a day on those sun drenched slopes, some R & R back here at our cabin, taking in yet another magical sunset. 

Watching the alpenglow engulf the local tribe's sacred mountain in the moments after sunset through our bedroom window, both lying there naked, pressed against one another, is an experience that is too good to put into  written word.

While we were skiing the following dispatch arrived from our Mountain Zone HQ, describing how the WC settled his betting tab with the folks over at All Mine. Sounds as if his "clobber count" was so high that your Managing Editor probably deserves a pass when it comes to paying off this bet, don't you think?

Well Suzanne I got my strapping this morning and you will be happy to know that it hurt like hell!

Here is a little back story about B and I before I tell you guys the ugly details:

We were kinky from the start with me being dominant

I used to spank B all the time and she was my submissive sex toy

We both loved it, and still do

But somewhere along the way she started spanking me as well and she discovered that she liked it (a lot)

So now we are switches I guess, but mostly we just do what ever turns us on at the time

Any way, you should know the B only knows one was to paddle or strap:

LONG AND AS HARD AS SHE CAN!!!!

As expected she was very happy that I lost the bet, even though she was rooting for the Broncos

So this morning when I returned from taking my daughter to school she was sitting in the kitchen grinning like a Cheshire cat

“Do you remember the last time you spanked me?”

  “Yes”, I said

“Do you remember that you stuck an aneros up my ass and wiggled it all around?” 

“Yes”,  I said, seeing where this was going

“Do you remember I said I didn't like it and you said you didn't care?”

  “Uhhh….  Yes, kind of….”, I said

“Do you remember that you spanked me with our leather strap with the wooden handle over your lap?”

 I did.

“Do you remember I said it hurt really bad, and begged you to stop, and you again said you didn't care and that it was supposed to hurt?”

  “Ummmm…. I don't really remember that”,  I said

“Bullshit!”, she said, “go up to the bedroom strip naked and get that strap and your aneros.”

When she arrived she was all business, and told me to get over her lap and she rudely pushed the aneros up my ass and wiggled it around violently for quite some time

She then grabbed the strap and began spanking me just as hard as she could

No warm up, and holy shit it hurt!

I hate to admit it but I was wiggling around a lot and screaming

She must have given me at least 200 strokes

It wasn't quite so bad after the first 100 :)

As she admired her work she seemed quite pleased with her self, pushed me off her lap and retrieved her Hitachi

She told me to suck her nipples and get my cock rock hard while she got her self off a few times with her toy

She informed me in the midst of one of those orgasms that she wanted me to fuck her really hard from behind as soon as she had enough of her beloved Hitachi

Sure enough she soon rolled over and got on her hands and knees with her breasts pressed against the bed

Seeing Her in this submissive position, with her beautiful ass pointed my way roused my dominant urges

I knelt behind her and drove my cock home in one big thrust

“Ouch”,  she screamed… “that really hurts….”

“I don't care”,  I said

The pain soon turned to pleasure and  she was cumming again and again in no time

Of course I couldn't resist a few very hard slaps to her ass as I fucked her:)

Was very Hot!

But I am the WC with a very sore, red and bruised ass!

Of course, WC, the only thing missing here is a photo! If Mistress can share, why can't you. I'm sure B would be happy to accommodate.

Paying Our Obligation

We had another snowy, blustery day here at our local ski mountain. The fresh powder was fun, but the wind and cold had us beating a somewhat earlier retreat from the mountain down to our little cabin, where the sun was shining. The early departure gave us a chance to nap, do a little work, and for Slave to go into town and pick up some provisions.

On the way home, I even had the chance to check in with our Senior Correspondent via phone, and learn that it was Bill's ( our Director of Security) birthday.  Happy Birthday, Bill!

On the drive home, I even stopped to take some photos of our beautiful mountains, with new snow sparkling, and lit by the setting sun. It's those vistas that keep us coming back here.

When I returned home with our supplies I was in for a little treat: Mistress was all decked out in fetching and skimpy blue confection, with matching thong, I had presented to her a few Christmas's ago.

"I figured we had time for a little fun before dinner, Slave...."

In fact, I had the same thing in mind, though I had not expected Mistress to be all decked out for the occasion.

We put away the groceries, and adjourned to our cozy bedroom here, with a view of the mountain, the alpenglow that followed the setting sun just lighting the very top.

"Wouldn't this be a good time to pay your part of the obligation arising from Tim Tebow's fall from grace on Saturday night, Mistress?"

You may recall the bet with our friendly competitors at All Mine. The Pats margin of victory (was it 45-10) far exceeded the 13.5 point spread that Suzanne had suckered the WC into accepting. And we honor our debts here, even when on the Lam.

And there was Molly, all decked out on Patriots Blue!

I affixed the cuffs to her wrists and secured them to our bed.

"Do we really need these, Slave? "

"From personal experience, I know it's easier to take these while you can't squirm away, Mistress."

"How considerate of you...."

I found our resident riding crop and flexed it a bit in my hand.

"So the question is 'how many?' .... I'm thinking the Pats margin of victory, less the point spread...."

I did some mental calculations.....

"That leaves us with 22, Mistress."

"I don't recall anything in that bet that put a number on it Slave!"

Mistress was already squirming in anticipation though.... truth be told, I think she likes this sort of punishment much better than her Slave does.  I mentioned this....

"Maybe it's because I have more padding, Slave...."

Could be. Or maybe she's just a little pain slut, like a few of you out there in the blogworld that we regularly follow.

In any event, she took her medicine well, and I made sure to break up the dosage with occasional forays with probing fingers and hands along those reddening ass cheeks, and between those squirming thighs. 

I noticed during one of these little breaks that the musky perfume of her arousal was permeating the room.

"You reek of sex, Mistress.... I think you like this...."

"Maybe I do, Slave....."

When the appropriate number of strokes had been applied, I took a photo to provide evidence of part of our stakes paid, that I emailed off to Jay and Suzanne.

But now it was time to reward Mistress for her "good sportsmanship".  Fortunately, "Mr. H." (her Hitachi) was already plugged in at bed side.  I kept her tied to the bed, as I pressed the vibrating orb home between those crimson ass cheeks. 

It's always fin to watch Mistress flex and tense all those muscles in her ass and thighs as she works her way to one of those special cums that only Mr. H can deliver. And she took her time, building it to the point where there could be no return. She even asked for permission!  What a good switch-day Slave.

After she'd come down, she told me it was time to fuck her. And I was more than happy to release her wrists  and follow her directions for a long and leisurely time.

Snow Day

After four days of glorious sunshine, a storm front moved in over our mountain range, dumping about a foot on us with some high winds to boot.

Since our ski days are limited this season, Molly and Mick were not about to pass on the powder day, despite the challenging conditions. But we did take a few more breaks than normal to keep us warm and not too exhausted from fighting the heavy, wet snow. 

By mid-afternoon, Mistress was already thinking about the next thing up on our agenda.

"I'm looking forward to riding your cock this afternoon, Slave."

"Ummmm.... that does sound good."

We had planned on listening to some apres ski entertainment, then heading into town to stock up on some provisions. (We've been so lazy that we've survived on some items in the larder, and what we could scavenge at a tiny market near our house).

But by the time we finished the snow slowed slog down the mountain to our house, we were in no mood for the 8 mile trip to the closest real grocery store. It was back to the tiny organic market for me to cobble together something for dinner.

One thing I passed on was the locally made Yak Lasagna.

After our close working relationship with the Yaks in What-the-Hell-it-Stan, the last time we were on the Lam, it seemed a little cruel to buy the pre-prepared lasagna, or even the ground Yak  on sale.

But I was curious, and found the web site and Blog of the local Yak purveyors.  While they seem to make and market a high quality product, I was a little troubled to see the cute photos of Bonnie, progressing from little "calf" (or whatever you call a baby Yak), to full grown.  I mean, isn't she cute? (Though I'm not so sure about the ear studs).

It also got me thinking about the WC. I mean if the lovely Molly isn't enough to tempt him to make the 5 hour or so drive down here, would it help if we threw in a Yak to keep him just a little warmer at night?  If so, he might not need to wear his special winter time briefs to avoid recurrence of that frost bite suffered last winter.

After I'd made my dinner selections, I headed home to Molly, who had already shed her ski wear and was alluringly naked, tucked into our bed, catching up on some emails on her laptop.

"I take it we're deferring dinner for a while, Mistress?'

"Food can wait a little while Slave take off your cloths and get in here.... I have some riding to do."
I was more than happy to obey.

I Know It When I See It.

Our CEO decided to take the lead today and share some thoughts on yesterday's developments here on our local ski mountain.
 

Yesterday, Aisha provided a list of the important attributes needed for a significant other. I have mine – and as you are all well aware – they come in the body and mind of one Mick Collins. So my ventures out for another cock to add to our nest has been a bit of a different journey, as we are not in search of  a primary relationship. Even so, I do have my own version of a “list.”

It’s pretty simple. Like obscenity, I know it when I see it. I feel it. Like most women, I do have a certain profile. And yes, there I often return.

The man is a serious outdoorsman. He knows his way around tough external factors and is most alive when braving the elements. He has a serious sense of adventure.  I am fairly certain that my second major in Geology was all about the guys. And yes, no surprise that when I mapped the geological strata in Jackson, Wyoming, Baraboo, Wisconsin, Cape Cod, The Connecticut River Valley and the Black Hills of South Dakota – there was more than “mapping” taking place.

 

Which brings me to today. After year’s of knowing that one of the world’s foremost climbers lives a few acres from us and works the  ski patrol during his “off climbing season” (because he needs to live at altitude), I came face-to-face with him.

And friends, the usually smooth Molly Collins gushed and flirted. I kind of fell all over myself. As he talked about just getting back from “the ice” (crossing Antarctica on foot), I jumbled my words. Then later when I saw him strapping an injured  skier into a sled, I watched his able hands work the ropes.

My wet pussy meeting this long sought out celebrity was/is quite an experience.   Mick and I have had constant chats about how to meet my next guy – and part of me is done with it all. Another part says if we persist then places like Fetlife and Collar Me are clearly NOT the places to find him.

So we run across an interesting option in the midst of an otherwise sunny and innocent day…Mr. Climber did let us know exactly which dirt driveway is his (gang that does count for intimacy in these parts) and I am wondering …. do I show up there in my skin tight and (oh so sexy) Italian long underwear, or perhaps a fleece with nothing under it…hmmmm…back to the search.

How does one really come on to a Man like this? “Well you see Mr. completely HOT climber / ski patrol dude, Mick and I have this thing going on…and we would like to spend some time with you…and about those ropes….

All in a day’s work.

Love

Molly