Monday Night Double Delight

Anyone who was concerned for my well-being needn’t be. I can tell you that two spankings are better than one, at least when they’re fun ones. And these definitely were.

Yesterday morning, I shared with Randy what I had planned for my dual milestone celebration. He particularly liked the vintage Six Million Dollar Man lunchbox. But he thought no double celebration would be complete without a pair of spankings. So, just that quickly, we had a plan.

Learning about a spanking (or two) in advance is kind of a love/hate thing for me. I adore the excited anticipation that comes with knowing that I will soon absorb my lover’s best abrupt caress. It’s arousing to the point where my mind races ahead pondering all of the sizzling erotic permutations.

I dislike it because, well, I have work to do! It’s not easy to concentrate when not one, but two spankings await me before bedtime.

I almost made it through my day without acting like a complete ditz. About four o’clock, I was editing an article another writer had authored. My eyes came across the phrase “…a record spanning…” I think I must have uttered some sort of nervous squeal because my neighbor came around the wall to make sure I was all right. I was fine, of course, and the text really didn’t say “record spanking.” But that was what I read!

Later at home, I paced the house, puttering with housework and peeking at spanko blogs. I counted the minutes until Randy would arrive. I tried to anticipate his first move and then my response. This is, of course, a fruitless exercise, but it helps the time pass more quickly.

By the time that my dear paddle-happy hubby started walking up the steps from our garage, the butterflies in my stomach were already in flight. I wanted his attention desperately, but now, suddenly, I wasn’t quite ready. I wanted a glass of water. I wanted to fix my hair. I wanted to pee.

The door shot open and there he was, grinning almost from ear to ear. “Hi!”

His tone was cheery and upbeat. I knew immediately that he was looking forward to the events about to unfold. I answered his greeting in kind.

“Upstairs?”

I love a forceful man of few words. Though stated as a question, I chose to take this as a command. I marched up to our bedroom, ready to face my fate. Randy followed closely behind, reaching at one point to place his hands upon my hips. In my heightened sense of anxious arousal, even this gentle grasp seemed electric.

We moved into our bedroom and Randy immediately guided me to the bed. He clearly wasn’t wasting any time. He positioned me so that I was kneeling on the edge of the bed. My head and shoulders were down and my bottom was high in the air. This was a familiar spanking position. Randy prefers this stance when he wants to apply a free swinging sort of implement.

He lifted my skirt to reveal a red thong I had picked out for the occasion. “Oh, you know I like that!”

Yeah, I know.

He demonstrated his appreciation for my lingerie fashion sense by slapping his hard hand against the ample flesh of right cheek. A smart companion blow soon followed on the other side. Alternating from one exposed buttock to the other, my love delivered a well-executed warm up. These hand spanks were firm, and they hurt, but I drank them in like nectar.

After several minutes, Randy switched to a small leather paddle. I love this paddle and he undoubtedly chose it for that reason. I cooed as he made it dance and sting across my burning flesh. In one of those odd moments of self-awareness, it occurred to me that this set of sensations was just perfect. The one man in my life was spanking me so well that I just wanted it to go on and on.

Just as I was settling into the lovely rhythm of the smacks, he stopped! I raised my bottom ever so slightly as if that might cause my lover to resume. No such luck.

“C’mon, Bon. Let’s go grab some dinner.”

Surely, I thought, he must be joking. On second thought, I realized he was serious. If he wasn’t going to spank any more, he could at least make love to me. Right?

Wrong. He apparently worked up an appetite reddening my posterior and it just couldn’t wait.

It took me several minutes to get composed again. I mean really! I was in no shape, physically or mentally, to go to a restaurant.

But go we did, eventually. Randy selected a fairly upscale Italian establishment. I felt a little under-dressed, but by this point, that was the least of my reasons for being self-conscious.

As I was enjoying my salad, Randy bent across the table and whispered, “Can you still feel the burn?”

Of course I could and I told him so.

“Good. Now, slide your skirt out from beneath you and sit right down on the seat.”

“Huh?” I knew exactly what he was requesting, but I didn’t especially want to do it.

“Put your bare ass on the seat.” Now he was speaking loudly enough to make me uneasy. Rather than risk a more graphic public explanation, I clandestinely hoisted my long skirt to allow my freshly paddled flesh to rest directly on the vinyl seat. Fortunately, our booth was positioned such that no one could see what I had done.

We shared an excellent dinner, despite my squirming. Randy smiled and I couldn’t help laughing a bit at this latest predicament he had concocted.

Despite Randy’s urging, I opted to pass on dessert. Later, as we were walking through the dimly illuminated parking lot, he stopped in his tracks. Instinctively, I halted as well. He hugged me tightly as only a lover can. We kissed. As he pulled me close with one hand, the other reached down to squeeze my sore globes.

“I love you, Bon.”

“I love you too.”

“You know when we get home that I’m going to have to spank you all over again?”

“Yeah, that’s part of why I love you…”

We kissed again, a bit more briefly this time, before getting back in the car.

Once safely at home, we returned to the scene of the crime. This time, Randy asked me to strip. I gladly complied. He sat on the side of the bed and coaxed me across his lap. Once settled into this classic corporal punishment pose and totally nude, I was ready for anything. Anything but the hairbrush, that is.

Ow! Ow! Ow! I couldn’t help crying out. The solid wood back of the brush offended my skin like nothing else. My bottom burned with each mounting strike. This rapid assault was more than I wanted, but I probably would have been disappointed had it stopped when I began to rant.

Randy has a sixth sense about judging my state. Years of practice and observation have honed his skills in assessing when I am thoroughly spanked. By the time he let me up, I was almost breathless and begged him to let me get a drink of water. He casually gestured toward our bathroom and I didn’t wait for a second invitation.

While in the bathroom, I couldn’t resist admiring my ruby red cheeks. They looked very attractive indeed.

Back in the bedroom, we moved on to other adult pastimes. I began by wrapping my lips around his mighty Excalibur. He groaned with pleasure as I displayed my gentle gratitude. Next, he pinned me to the bed in a glorious junction. Finally, the last of my residual apprehension dissipated in blissful embrace. Ah…

So, yes, I did get two spankings as promised, but they were really good ones.