Over the Couch

Sometimes I think my husband doesn't read this blog. Other times I know better. The latter realization hit me last night. A whole bunch of times it hit me, right where I sit down.

Yesterday evening, I was at the computer working on a future blog feature. My subtle sixth sense alerted me to a presence behind me. Sure enough, I turned to see Randy standing in the doorway. He was casually leaning against the door fame. A broad smile spread across his face.

"Over the couch, huh?" he inquired.

I knew exactly where he was headed, but played dumb. "What?" I screwed up my face to express my feigned lack of comprehension.

"You love spankings over the couch. Your own quiz said so."

"Yeah. So?" My attempts at misunderstanding were withering fast in the face of his undeniable logic.

"So, let's go." Randy didn't give me much to misconstrue.

I saved my work, got up from the computer, and followed him into the living room. I immediately noticed my sorority paddle lying on the seat of the couch. It wasn't hard to figure out that it would soon come to rest against my own seat.

"Over you go!" he urged, making a downward arc gesture with his hand.

"But what about...?" He didn't allow me to finish that thought. He guided me rapidly but not roughly over the back of the couch. I was standing on the floor, but my elbows rested on the cushions. My bottom was raised high, as if to invite the inevitable paddling that would soon commence. I thought he would want to fully expose my target, but my jeans remained in place.

I was in position no more than ten seconds before the first swat landed. It exploded across my bottom with a cannon-like report. I recall hearing the bang a split second before I felt the accompanying discomfort. I was surprised by the volume of the sound. The stinging pain followed quickly. My sorority paddle is long enough to punish both cheeks at once and heavy enough to leave a lasting impression. Even with the protection of my denim slacks, I knew I was in for a serious paddling.

“Count for me now…” Randy’s voice was somehow both playful and demanding. Since he was standing over me holding a big wooden paddle, I figured that counting might be a fine idea.

“One.”

Again the paddle fell with a loud boom. My voice, now slightly more strained, marked his progress. Then there were three, four, and five. Perhaps it was the accumulation of blows, but each whack felt harder than the one before. I called each number through gritted teeth. He was clearly focusing upon the lower half of my cheeks.

Randy meted out a second five in similar fashion. If he was holding back in any way, it certainly wasn’t evident to me. By the time I said “ten,” I was very well paddled. My poor bottom felt hot and stung enormously.

“Let’s see how we’re doing.” My lover’s tone was now almost comically clinical. Were I not so much in discomfort, I might have giggled. He unbuttoned my jeans and lowered them to the floor. My underwear quickly followed. Randy examined my toasted tail, tracing sore spots with his fingers.

“Very nice.” He said as he began to rub the smooth wooden paddle against my exposed skin. I gasped involuntarily. Soon, he was tapping me with a light but insistent cadence. I fought back the urge to escape. I bravely stayed in position.

Randy derives a special glee from surprising me. What he did next was a truly excellent surprise. Instead of continuing my paddling on the bare, he tossed the implement to the side. His dancing fingertips brought tingles to my lower back, my hips, my throbbing bottom, my thighs, and ultimately, my love canyon. His touch generated shivers of excitement and desire. He made me glad I stayed in place.

He next lowered his own trousers. I felt his hands parting my smarting cheeks as he swiftly and expertly plumbed my depths. I luxuriated in the now familiar blend of comfort within and discomfort without. Each thrust of his powerful hips brought forth both sensual stimulation and shocking distress. I embraced both in equal measure as I pushed my hips upward and back to meet his. Together we rocked with a lovers’ rhythm.

Soon I was overcome by the sheer erotic joy of the moment. He followed me into this blissful haze of loving fulfillment. Breathlessly, we found our nirvana over the back of that well used couch.

We played a little more later in bed, but this time, it was tender and sweet. When we were finished, Randy whispered in my ear. I know he loves me, but that’s not what he said. He leaned close and cupped his hand so as not to leak this deep secret, even to the cat.

“Your quiz was right.”

I burst out laughing! So it is, I thought. So it is…

Keywords: spanking, paddle, spanking story