Weeknight Wonders

"All right, young lady, bend over and grab your ankles."

The sound of those words sent a lightning bolt through my entire body. Had they been spoken in our bedroom as a prelude to some energetic lovemaking, it would have been exciting. However, when I'm standing in the middle of the kitchen on a Wednesday evening and beginning to prepare dinner, it's positively mind blowing.

Randy and I have gotten into a kind of a rut lately. Oh, we've enjoyed our share of good spankings and sex. But most of the time, it's been limited to weekends when both of us are home, rested, and relatively unencumbered by the burdens of the outside world. So a weeknight romp is a special treat.

When those magical words reached my ears, a spanking was the furthest thing from my consciousness. I had a mental list of tasks to be completed and I was multitasking in hopes of checking off as many as possible. Suddenly, the priorities had changed. I was to be spanked.

I didn’t give a moment’s thought to resisting. I’ve been conditioned over time to simply accept Randy’s overtures unless I have a compelling reason to the contrary. I bent forward from the waist, reaching down to place my hands in the specified position. My bottom was stretched and jutting upward in manner Randy favors. He hadn’t asked me to remove my jeans so they remained in place.

As I contemplated my predicament, I heard the sound of my dear spouse rummaging through the drawers. He was no doubt hunting for an appropriate spanking tool. He found a wooden serving spoon. I caught a quick glimpse of what he had in his hand before he disappeared behind me.

Instantly, the spanking was upon me. Randy applied quick, stinging swats up one cheek and down the other. My pants provided a certain degree of protection, but my man seemed to recognize this as he increased the intensity of the blows. Stretched out as I was in that position, the natural padding of my bottom was considerably less effective.

The spanking, as painful and jarring as it was, was also quite welcome. Nothing cuts through the stress of a difficult week like a good, hard spanking. Even as I yipped with discomfort, my true feelings were quite evident between my legs. Randy continued to spank my denim-covered seat for several minutes. It definitely hurt, but as is so often the case, I eventually reached a place where that didn’t matter so much.

When my husband stood me up again, I figured he would pull down my jeans for another full measure of spanking. Not so. He took me in his sinewy arms and held me tightly. His kiss was that of a passionate lover. His hands roamed over the surface of my clothes before beginning to remove them. My shirt came off and shortly thereafter, my bra did as well. Randy’s lips kissed and sucked my nipples. His tongue lapped them. When his teeth gently bit my nipples, my desire took flight.

Next, my jeans were finally lowered to the floor. At this point, I was so excited by the spanking and the sensuous foreplay that my knees felt weak. He could truly do with me as he wished. Randy carefully inspected the pink hue of my skin and declared it to be satisfactory. His hands then slipped inside my panties and pulled them down to point where I could step out.

Now I stood in the center of my kitchen, with dinner ingredients strewn about, wearing just a necklace and socks. My man grasped me under the arms and lifted me so that I was sitting on the edge of the counter. The surface felt very hard against my freshly toasted sit spots. I spread my legs as he stepped toward me. Again, we embraced. The open-mouthed kiss we shared was drenched with impatient lust. Soon his pants were down and, to my delight, he was entering me.

I’d love to tell you that we had a wonderful session there on the counter, but we didn’t. The angle was all wrong. It just didn’t work. However, where there’s a willy, there’s a way. We ended up in the living room with me face down over the back of the couch. We knew well the virtues of this position. Randy intermittently smacked my fleshy seat as he thrust. These delightful dual pain and pleasure sensations rapidly drove me to a shuddering release. He continued a bit longer before finding his own sweet conclusion.

In the aftermath, we both felt drained, yet quenched. A brief snuggle on the couch evolved into an extended snuggly nap. I never did prepare that meal. A couple of hours later we ordered carry-out Chinese food. Isn’t it amazing how good everything tastes after great sex?

Keywords: spanking, wooden spoon, spanking story, spanking and sex, Bonnie, spanky