Saturday, October 15, 2005

Walking and Chewing Gum

For your reading pleasure, here's another story from the vault...

Last week, Randy's work schedule and my monthly conspired to keep things pretty sedate. Then came the weekend. Ah, the weekend! That delightful oasis in time. That unique but all too brief opportunity to ignore the demands of a busy world. Rest, relaxation, and romping!

Well, forget the weekend too. Randy had to go in to work most of the day on Saturday. Then we had tickets to the theatre. I enjoyed the play, but I'd rather have been playing. On Sunday, I had promised a friend I would cover her booth at an arts festival 100 miles away (what was I thinking?). It was soooo hot and humid inside that tent. When I finally got home around 8:30, I was way too tired and miserable to do anything but shower and go to bed.

Which brings us to today. As I was getting dressed for work this morning, Randy mentioned that he thought it was about time for a spanking. He must have sensed how frustrated I was. I replied "Promise?" with a hopeful tone in my voice. He told me I could count on it. Shivers of delighted anticipation went down my spine at the sound of his voice and the sight of the gleam in his eye. All day long I could think of nothing else. Somehow, I managed to make it through the day. I came home as usual a couple of hours before Randy. This gave me time to catch up on electronic correspondence and wonder about my spanking. I guess I did a little housework, but I was just killing time.

At long last, I heard the garage door open. Moments later, my Prince Charming came bounding up the steps from the basement. I greeted him with that kiss that says "Let's go right now." He returned my enthusiasm by following me up to the bedroom (he says he lets me go first because it's chivalrous; I think he just likes to look at my derriere). When we got upstairs, he proceeded to undress me - completely. He next paid special attention to my breasts. A few well-placed love nips had me panting with desire. Now things were moving along nicely.

Next, Randy sat on the floor, cross-legged, with his back against the wall. He called me over to him. He had me straddle him facing the wall with my arms in front of me. As I leaned forward, so did he. When his experienced mouth made contact with the most sensitive part of my anatomy, I shuddered with excitement. How well he knows me.

About the time I started to get deeply involved in the proceedings, he pulled away long enough to reach over and grab a big wooden salad spoon (which he no doubt stashed after I left this morning). As his mouth returned to work on the front of me, that spoon undertook its mission at the back. He did a fine job on both counts. He's so coordinated! I finally reached the point where my legs became too wobbly to stand. He helped me over to the bed, and across his lap.

I figured he was going to really let me have it then, but mostly he didn't. Slowly, he rubbed that long, hardwood spoon along the surface of my smarting bottom. Every so often, he would punctuate the rubbing with a sharp smack. Meanwhile, I was still incredibly revved up. I asked, "Are you going to finish this or just play around?" It didn't take long to get my answer. He slid me off of his lap, walked into the bathroom, and returned with the heavy hairbrush. Ominously, he slapped it against the palm of his hand a couple times. Uh oh. "Is this what you want?" he asked as he pulled me back across his lap. Now, did I really want to take that nasty hairbrush across my already crimson, stinging cheeks? I decided that I would be disappointed later if I chickened out. So I said, "OK." "OK?" Randy asked, "That doesn't sound very eager to me." So there I was, over his lap, bare bottom pointed at the ceiling, forced to beg for the hairbrush. I did.

That hairbrush can really exact a toll. He didn't swat me that many times, but his aim was superb and his velocity was fierce. When he finished, he rolled me over without so much as a chance to catch my breath. The sex that followed was fast and passionate. I didn't know which end was up (but I definitely knew which end was sore). Wow, that man has what I need.

It's all over now. I feel contented, loved, satisfied, fulfilled, and just plain old happy. I'm also sitting on two pillows. I wouldn't have it any other way!

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little one said...

Lovely story Bonnie. I really enjoyed this one. :)

I think they like to let us go up steps first so they can smack are behinds too. *grin*

Hope you have a good day.

little one

Bonnie said...

Little One,


I agree. Worst of all, my husband claims to let me go first in the name of chivalry. Sheesh!

Janeen said...

I have never experienced the bath brush, we have one but Will's never taken it in his head to use it on me. I'm thinking I might be grateful for that one. LOL

Loved the story.

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