Here’s a classic from the MBS treasury.
Shafts of brilliant morning sunlight streamed around the simple gauze curtains. My sleepy eyes opened to the gradual recognition that my dear husband and I had been sleeping in an immense bedroom far from home. This room had once been the top floor of an old boathouse. Now an inn, it was tastefully decorated with antique furniture. The ancient rough hewn timbers provided a constant reminder of the stout sailing ships to whose care this building was originally dedicated.
Randy and I were tired. The previous day’s journey had been hectic. More than once, we wondered aloud whether the effort required to spend this long weekend by the ocean might offset any joy so derived. But on this sunny Saturday morning, those thoughts seemed many miles behind us. We happily embraced, delighted at the prospect of the coming day.
We briefly toyed with the idea of early morning lovemaking, but ultimately elected to postpone those events. The warm ocean breezes called our names.
I emerged first from the four poster brass bed. As I stood in the very center of the cavernous room, I couldn’t help lifting my arms above my head and spinning slowly. The pitched ceiling was more than twenty feet above my head. We had long aspired to stay at this inn. Finally, we had made it.
I enjoyed a quick but rejuvenating shower. After I was finished, Randy took his turn. As he readied himself for the day, I began my own special preparations. I brought a red and white canvas dress for the occasion. Beneath it, I wore stockings, a garter belt, a lacy teal thong, and a matching bra. I also packed some fun strappy heels, but decided they were incompatible with the long walk we had contemplated. Those would have to wait. For once, I managed not to spoil my own secret. Randy would have to open this present himself!
When he was ready, we walked downstairs together. We had a light breakfast in the dining room of the inn and then charged out into the fresh morning air. It was a spectacular day. Only a few puffy white clouds dotted the cobalt sky. We wandered happily down the boardwalk, stopping in many of the charming shops and galleries. We examined a lot and bought a little, but mostly we savored this rare chance to spend time together unencumbered by the troubles of the world.
We eventually found our way down to the shore. There is something mesmerizing about the sound, motion, and smell of the waves. I believe there is a very primal attraction to the sea. A million generations ago, the sea was our mother. Even now, her lullaby draws us back. We hugged in the sand near the water’s edge. Randy’s hands, as they so often do, wandered southward. Upon discovering by touch what was and was not beneath my dress, he narrowed his eyes and broadened his smile. “Well, we’ll see about that,” he chortled.
Eventually, we left to find some lunch. We settled upon a small café in town. We sat outside and enjoyed tasty sandwiches on fresh baguettes. From our table, we had a lovely view of the waves crashing against massive rocks just offshore. Although there was a light breeze, the air felt clean and surprisingly warm. This was a great day.
After our late lunch, we elected to return to our room. Randy and I didn’t discuss our plan. We didn’t need to. We were both thinking the same thing and we knew it. As soon as the door closed, my lover directed me to lie face down on the bed. I complied. He removed my shoes (there’s no sense getting sand in the bed) and had me place two pillows beneath my hips. I heard him rummaging in his suitcase, presumably to assemble his collection of toys. He tied one end of a retired pair of my pantyhose to my right wrist and the other end to the bedpost. He repeated this sequence for my left wrist, and then for both ankles. When he finished, I was spread wide and securely bound to the bed. Yet, I remained incongruously clothed.
Randy quickly remedied that issue. When he lifted my dress, he gasped and I giggled. He was clearly pleased by the manner in which I framed my bottom for him. He loves the garter belt with stockings look and he considers a thong to be an open invitation to whatever depravity his twisted mind might conceive.
After several minutes of admiring and caressing my bottom, hips, and thighs, he stopped to give me a deep, open mouth kiss. At that moment, I was transformed into a vessel for his love. Randy began slapping my exposed bottom with his hand. It felt exquisite. He gradually increased the intensity while expertly spreading the warmth all over both cheeks. The sharp smacking sound generated by the forceful impact of skin upon skin echoed through the tall room. This would be a spanking to remember.
Suddenly he was gone. My husband disappeared behind me and, tightly bound as I was, I couldn’t see what he was doing. A few moments later, I heard a thwack and felt a corresponding burning sensation across both of my buttocks. Again it struck. This implement, I realized, was a cane. Randy was efficiently painting stripes across my derriere. Each blow sizzled at impact and then left behind a lovely sting. It hurt intensely, but I loved every second.
When Randy decided I was appropriately caned, he tossed the rod to the side. My punished bottom throbbed with a blazing heat. After so many years of being married to this man, I am not easily surprised. What he did next, however, was something I honestly didn’t anticipate at all. He grabbed the center of my thong and sliced it in two using his pocketknife! (Note to self: buy underwear).
Within seconds, he was pushing a lubricated vibrator into my small orifice. I was so excited by the proceedings that I had to struggle to relax. After he had inserted the buzzing device, he started to manipulate it in and out. Once I became fully acclimated, these sensations were delicious. When I thought I could take no more, he upped the ante. Randy activated a second vibrator and applied it directly to my love button. This symphony of pleasure quickly pushed me into a bouncing, frantic orgasm. It was so intense that I had to actually ask him to stop.
After I calmed down, he set me free. At his request, I knelt on the bed near the edge so he could take me from behind while standing on the floor. We both enjoyed this exchange. After a couple of minutes, he shuddered as he made his precious deposit deep within me.
I imagine there must have been a time before when I removed my clothes after lovemaking, but I can’t recall it. Once I had disrobed, I got back into bed. We snuggled beneath the covers and fell asleep together. There’s just something about fresh sea air and great sex that makes one sleepy.
The rest of the trip was somewhat less eventful, yet no less enjoyable. We drove up the coast to visit a historic site and numerous spectacular vistas. We dined on gourmet organic vegetarian fare at a restaurant in town. We played some more in the big bedroom. It was a marvelous trip and a fantastic getaway. As I’ve said before, this man definitely gives me what I need.
Keywords: spanking, caning, spanking stories, romantic spanking
3 comments :
Lovely story Bonnie, thanks.
I know what you mean about the sea, I live only minutes away from the Atlantic, always the same yet constantly changing.
I've lived here for 17 years and haven't tired of it yet.
Nor will I ever tire of a hot spanking story, thanks again Bonnie.
Hugs.
Paul.
Very nice, Bonnie!!! And H-O-T!!! We live near the beach, and we just love it!!! There's something so romantic about the ocean, isn't there!!!
*hugs*
Tigger
Paul - Thank you. That sounds wonderful. I love the ocean.
Tigger - I completely agree!
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