“Do you even remember that last time you spanked me, Daddy?”
That was the first hint that I was getting antsy for something more than cuddles.
“Daddy, it’s been nearly two weeks since you fucked me.”
I admit that it came out more as a plaintive whine than a statement of fact. No, I wasn’t topping from the bottom. But even with our amazing, crazy weekend that caused a week-long drop, there were a few things I was missing.
“I know, Babygirl. I’ve got a few things in mind. Soon.”
I know enough that statements like that have to satisfy me. And they do. Mostly.
That evening, climbing into bed, my hips swaying side to side as my ass hung in the air, an invitation for kinky fuckery – at least I hoped that was the picture I presented.
He’d barely walked up behind me before he began to land blow after blow on my backside. Each smack was harder than the one before.
I didn’t cry out. I didn’t flinch. Pain and heat radiated through my body.
Ohhhhhh, this is nice.
A warm stroke across the small of my back. I sighed.
I squeaked and relaxed into it.
And then…he stopped.
Already melting into the bed, I was mildly disappointed but it had been nice. Until I realized, he was adjusting pillows and sitting upright in the middle of the bed. Wait, I know this position.
“Across my lap, Babygirl. That was just a warm-up.”
I giggled and played up the boneless feeling I already had. This wasn’t going to be a few swats. No, this particular position is a serious over the knee spanking. It would probably hurt. I wanted it to hurt…and yet I didn’t. Months had passed since my last one (yes, months), and there’s always that little voice in my head that says, “Can you take it?”
Finally with a few looks and a low growl from him, I draped myself across his lap. Simply feeling his thighs press into my torso, my nipples brushing against the sheets, and the kiss of air on my already warm bottom, I relaxed into him. Although too much time had gone by since the last one, laying across his lap in this way was like coming home.
Every blow in his arsenal landed on my ass. I alternated between sighing into them and squealing in pain.
He placed one arm across my back to hold me in place. A rush of heat flooded my cunt. The added control and power subduing me in a way no spanking could ever do.
Smacks and slaps and spanks fell over and over again. When he paused, even for a moment, the air across my skin burned, a delicious sear.
I don’t know who or what gave out first – the palm of his hand or my ass. Eventually, he stopped. He wanted to cuddle but I had no ability to move.
“What does my butt look like, Daddy?” I mumbled against the bed.
“Uh…it’s red, Babygirl.”
I giggled. “I know that, Daddy. Take a picture!” I had enough strength to hand him his phone.
Deep red. Cherry red. The red of a properly spanked bottom.
“My butt is fuzzy, Daddy.” Gotta love “peach” fuzz on a dark-haired woman.
“I like your butt. Don’t say mean things about it.”
More giggling. “Not being mean. Just honest.”
What happened next, I can’t really explain. I began to wiggle my ass and chant, “Fuzzy butt, fuzzy butt.” Every time I did, he smacked me again.
It became a different challenge.
I chanted. He spanked.
I wiggled. He smacked.
Who would give out first?
We never really found out. We both began to laugh until tears rolled down our cheeks. Spanking and wiggling were forgotten in the middle of silly laughter.
Later, he fucked me senseless, pulling my hair, pinching my nipples, and pounding my pussy. But just then, we were lost in laughter which in that moment was the best place to be.
Welcome to Masturbation Monday! Masturbation Month is almost over but as you all know Masturbation Monday and Masturbation Month can be celebrated anytime! While you’re celebrating, go check out the other smut writers are sharing this week. And make sure to enter the last giveaway of the month – the Esthesia from Vibease! If you’d rather just buy a new toy now, take advantage of the 35% off sale with code MAY2016 over at the Vibease website (good through the end of May).