Saturday, November 05, 2005

Story: Lynne's Satisfaction


This is the fourth episode of a continuing story. If you just arrived, you might wish to read from the beginning.

The rising sun did little to blunt the brisk wind blowing across Silver Lake. As the soft haze of fond events recounted eased slowly from their consciousness, Lynne and Mark realized they were outside. They were cold. They were without the benefit of clothes. But they were together! This unique moment of reflection and solitude might well constitute a lifelong memory in its own right. If so, a quick memory would have to suffice. In an instant, the young lovers had scurried back into their tent.

When they emerged again, Mark and Lynne were far better prepared to face the challenges of a mountain morning in springtime. While Mark retrieved the food, Lynne unpacked the camp stove, dishes, and utensils. When they reunited, Lynne prepared a breakfast of pancakes and scrambled eggs. There's just something about the mountains that makes everything taste better.

As they enjoyed their camp fare, Mark explained his plan for the day. He wanted to hike up to a saddle about three miles away. He pointed to a dip in the mountain range stretched out above them. "That's it... Right there," Mark said with certainty as he glanced back and forth between the skyline and his typographic map. "It looks pretty snowy up there to me," warned Lynne. In this relationship, she had little choice but to provide a voice of restraint and reason. There was no arguing with Mark on this morning. His mind was set upon reaching the top and peering down upon the valley beyond. After breakfast was cleaned up and the camp was secured, they set out upon their alpine quest.

As Mark and Lynne followed a steep walled canyon slowly upward, the trail gradually deteriorated. What had been a wide, mostly dry trail near Silver Lake became in stages, wet, sticky, muddy, slushy, and ultimately, snowy. It was a tough hike. Far more so that the previous day. Still they persevered. It was difficult in places to follow the trail. Despite the hard work, this path delivered generous rewards to those willing to brave its mire and ice. The lower branches of the pine and fir trees that lined the canyon retained a fluffy dusting of winter's finest. The calls of a dozen bird species echoed from every direction.

By midmorning, the hikers were greeted by the roar of rushing water. As they progressed, it became more pronounced. Suddenly, they rounded a bend and abruptly encountered the head of the canyon. Lynne and Mark found themselves at the foot of breathtaking waterfall. Their eyes drifted upward. A sparkling ribbon of water stretched at least a hundred feet up the sheer face of the cliff. Mark hadn't told Lynne about this geologic feature!

The newlyweds decided this was an ideal spot for a rest. They perched on the rocks that surrounded the falls. Even after several minutes of staring in silence at the beauty before them, they were awestruck by the spectacle. The rising mist gave everything a fairyland quality.

"Mark?"

"Yes?"

"What did you think about last night?"

"I thought about having a great time with my new wife."

"No, that's not what I mean. How do you feel about what happened?"

"It was excellent. It had to be our best ever."

"Yeah, it was really good. What do you think about the, uh..."

"The spanking?"

"Yes, when you spanked me."

"I can't claim to understand that whole thing, but anything that makes you that hot has got to be part of my repertoire."

"You know, I do want you to do that again. The experience makes me feel so good that the pain really doesn't much matter. It's hard to explain. It's as though I was transported to a different place where I felt contented and safe. Does that make any sense?"

"Well, actually, not much. But, like I say, if you enjoy it, then I want to be involved."

After delivering a quick smooch, Mark stood up and walked over to survey the trail ahead. It rose rapidly to climb out of the canyon. Worse yet, it was covered with snow. Steep and slippery conditions make for a poor hiking experience. He decided that this would be their destination. That magnificent view would have to wait for another year.

As he returned, Mark spotted a small wooden sign leaning against a tree. Upon closer examination, he learned it said "Silver Lake - 1.8 miles." It had obviously fallen. Lynne strolled over to see what Mark had found. "Looks like a paddle to me," Mark exclaimed with more than a little jest in his voice. Lynne took the sign and held it carefully in her hands. "Yes, it could work, so long as you use the side without the nails." Lynne was serious. "OK, then, stud-boy, let's put you to work." Lynne could hardly believe those words came from her mouth. Only hours before, she could hardy admit this deepest desire. Somehow lust had transcended caution, driving her on to new adventures.

If Lynne was surprised, Mark was doubly so. He knew, however, that warming his lover's bottom led to mutual pleasure. So why not? Lynne returned the sign as Mark positioned her with her hands against the largest boulder. She thrust her bottom up and out as if to invite Mark's stinging caress.

"Last chance, Hon. Are you sure you want this?"

"You heard what I said!" Lynne's tone was insistent, but not demanding.

Mark pulled back the sign and let it fly. Bang! The wood impacted against the seat of Lynne's jeans generating a remarkably loud report. Deep within the gorge, the sound reverberated freely. Lynne neither moved nor spoke a word. Mark assumed that meant he should continue. In fact, she was quite absorbed by the scene, the experience, the warmth, the sting, the stigma, and the moment. This was her first paddling. Again the sign struck. Even over clothes, it hurt more than Mark's hand. But it was more thrilling as well. Soon Mark developed a slow, but steady cadence. After several minutes and many hard swats, Mark decided Lynne had absorbed enough for one morning. The sudden cessation broke her trance. Ouch! She hadn't realized before how complete her paddling had been. She found herself involuntarily rubbing the punished area.

Mark took Lynne in his strong arms and embraced her firmly. They shared a lovers' kiss. There could be no question of what was to follow. Mark removed a blanket and ground cloth from his backpack. He placed them atop a soft bed of pine needles in as clean and dry a spot as he could find. Under the circumstances, their clothes came down, but not off. Naked frolicking would have to wait for later.

Mark was impressed by the dark red hue of Lynne's bottom. He touched it ever so gently. "Does it hurt?" he inquired. "Of course it hurts!" was the response. It sure looked like it hurt. Mark had Lynne lay flat on the blanket. Now it was her turn to learn the benefits of good dental health. Up went her legs and down went his head. One hundred moans later, Lynne was simultaneously pleased and charged for more. Mark next guided his youthful wife to her hands and knees. There, he took Lynne in a most forceful way. Lynne gasped with pleasure as her man squeezed her stinging buttocks. Mark too found his resolution at the base of the falls. As the passion rose, erotic communication gave way to spiritual bonding. Yes, their marriage was off to a wonderful start!

(to be continued)

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6 comments :

padme said...

bonnie,
I am loving your story more and more. I can't wait for more!

Bonnie said...

Shyanne,

Thanks! There is a bit more. I'll post it in the morning.

Lisa said...

Bonnie
Man this story gets better with every post. I get hot just reading them. Looking forward to the next post.

little one said...

Bonnie... I am in such awe of your talent. I am enjoying this story tremendously. Thank you for your continued efforts and entertaining us.

With much gratitude,
little one

Janeen said...

Ok I had to catch up, I missed yesterday's installment. I'd say it's getting good, but it started out good! LOL

Anonymous said...

i would like to experience getting my bottom spanked by my wife. if it turned her on that much, perhaps i should recieve a spanking which should double the sex results.

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