The Kiss

As much as I adore rollicking, kinky fun, there’s something very special about a kiss. It’s just a kiss, but oh my, what a kiss can hold.

It’s a simple act. Two pairs of lips touch in unison. A kiss can be innocent, or it can be outrageously lusty.

A kiss, like an “aloha,” can either bid someone goodbye or welcome them home.

It’s so acceptable that it can be done with a child in church. Yet, a kiss is ideal for expressing the burning flames of sexual passion. It can speak a non-verbal command, suggestion, or request. One kiss can express love or need or comfort or support or affection or all of these emotions.

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When couples live together as long as Randy and I have, they develop certain routines. For us, there is the kiss. Most days, I arrive home from work an hour or two ahead of Randy. I use this time for errands, cleaning, cooking, or blogging. It’s my time to just be me.

When Randy returns, I make a point of greeting him in the kitchen with a kiss. We usually kiss before we speak and the nature of that kiss does a lot to shape the course of the evening ahead. Many days, one or both of us is tired. We share a familiar peck and a quick hug. Many times, he’ll pat my bottom as a reminder of the fun we share. Then we have dinner and often go our separate ways until bedtime.

Every so often, however, our kiss acts as a flashpoint. One adventurous tongue darts forth and is soon joined by its partner. Hands roam and fingers knead. Clothing descends amid rapid breathing. Now unleashed, our carnal craving will not subside short of sensual satisfaction.

Take last night, for example. All day long, I had been thinking about my man and the wonderful things he does to me. Sitting at my desk, my mind wandered. I shivered with delight as I imagined his hand sliding over my thigh. A moment later, I remembered where I was and resumed my work. Still, that undeniably erotic imagine was firmly embedded in my psyche.

When my lover arrived home, the kiss I had been saving for him spoke volumes about my intent and my state of mind. I placed my arms around his neck as his arms encircled my waist. His lips were soft and slightly moist. When they met my own, I could feel my excitement rising. Randy delivered a series of prolonged and deliberate smooches, each more sensuous than the one prior. I matched his pace as I began to massage his strong shoulders. By now, both of his hands were upon the seat of my slacks.

Feeling increasingly warm, I escalated the action by licking around the inside of his lips. He reciprocated by thrusting his tongue into my mouth. At that instant, I felt nearly overcome by blind desire. I was vaguely aware of a cool breeze on my legs as my pants fell. Two tongues, four lips, and four hands worked in unison to heighten our mutual stimulation.

I jumped with surprise when Randy’s solid palm clapped against my panty-covered bottom. He repeated this gesture using his right hand even as his left arm pulled my torso toward him. I could feel his undulating pelvis grinding against me. The impacts hurt, but I did not resist. I longed for these sensations.

A short time later, I found myself perched face down over Randy’s lap as he sat on our living room couch. My bottom tingled from his earlier attention. Before renewing his efforts, he admired my gluteal globes as he peeled back my underwear.

“What a luscious ass you have.” I thanked him, for lack of a more considered response.

My lover rubbed my bottom with both hands, pausing periodically to squeeze or swat. This delightful interlude went on for five or ten minutes as he enjoyed playing with my bottom and I luxuriated in his every touch.

Whack! Randy had obviously brought a light, stingy implement with him from the kitchen. What I later learned was a wooden spatula briskly slapped against my right cheek. He rearranged me on his lap, anchoring me by gripping my hip. The spatula struck the opposite side with what seemed like the power of a paddle. I wasn’t going anywhere until Randy decided my spanking was complete. This submissive notion triggered another wave of shivers. I signaled my continued willingness by arching my back so that my bottom was thrust upward. I invited more stinging blows and he did not disappoint.

The actual spanking probably lasted only ten minutes or so, but wow. I was in a submissive headspace such that time was irrelevant. I wanted him to spank me every bit as long and as hard as he wished. I felt as though I was completely his to handle in any way he chose. I wanted this spanking. I needed it. It had been too long between sessions and I wasn’t about to settle for less than everything.

The spatula is a fun toy. It generates plenty of sting and redness without the deep ache I associate with paddles and other heavier wooden implements. As a result, I felt as though I could go on and on. At least once, when Randy seemed like he was slowing down, I jutted my bottom upward again as if to request his burning salute. These kisses were a whole different variety, but no less welcome.

When my man determined that the spanking was over, he rolled me off of his lap and lowered me to the carpeted floor. There I sat, slightly woozy, and just looked at him. Before I knew what was happening, he had me on my back and was quickly removing the rest of my clothing. I gasped when he ran his thumbs over my sensitive nipples. His kisses now were those of an experienced lover, filled with intimate passion and expectant longing. I reached to embrace him, but he eluded my grasp. Now he was between my thighs, kissing and lapping at the very core of my sexuality. Energized from the spanking, it took only a few moments of this intense play before I found myself shaking with orgasmic joy.

Just when I thought I could take no more, he placed himself between my legs and thrust into me. I accommodated him easily as he let loose a groan of pleasure. We made love right there on the floor of our living room. Each time Randy drove into me, I could feel my well-spanked derriere slide across the carpet. Revisiting the pleasurable pain made all of the other sensations even more incredible.

When we finished, we lay together on the floor in the middle of the room for several minutes. We both felt spent in a most delicious way. Eventually, he retrieved my robe and we enjoyed a light dinner in front of the television.

This morning, Randy had the audacity to complain about rug burns on his knees! I can tell you that my own rug burns are more than a little touchy as well. Every time I sit today, my mind slips back to those sweet, magical moments.

Kiss your lover today. You’ll both be glad you did!

Keywords: spanking, spatula, spanking story, spanking and sex, Bonnie, oral sex