Spank that Ass

Two weeks from today, all our rushing, our trying to think of something to buy for someone who already has everything, our chugging our way through crowded stores, fighting the traffic, wrapping the presents and putting them under the tree, will all be over, only to do it again next year.  But we love it, don't we?  No matter how much we grouse and complain, that look on our loved one's face when we found the perfect gift, the smiles of our family and the feelings of love make it all worthwhile.

I see from FB that many of you are having to don your winter boots and whip out that shovel. I see the news where cars are stuck in ditches or multiple car pileups and I'm happy I'm not one of them. So what if I have perspiration dripping into my eyes three months of the year, I don't have the expense of all those warmer clothes needed.  

I feel terrible for California - the images are so graphic and when you think of the loss of not only homes but lives of animals who have nowhere to escape, of possessions that were passed down to you and the hope to pass it down to others, it makes you want to cry and bless the Lord that this time you've escaped that reality.

Okay enough pontificating, here's this weeks story.

This is a short little story.  It's a story I'm sure many of my readers have experienced in one form or another.  Enjoy

“I love spanking your ass,” were the words I heard him whisper.

“Good,” I said in a whisper because I love getting my ass spanked.

This is the core of our relationship.  Michael and I have been together for more years than I care to remember.  We were young and in the throes of passion when first we met.  Some of the flames of passion die after a while, but we found a new way to fan those flames.

A few years ago, quite by accident, we discovered the answer.  We were both lazing around on the sofa, not really reading, or watching tv or sleeping, just being.  I had my head on his lap and then went to grab something on the side table and my ass was too good a target. Michael swatted me – hard enough that I felt it even through my clothes. 

Surprise, ‘”why did you do that? I asked.

“Because I wanted to, why, do you object?”

“Actually no, why don’t you do it again.”

“Really?”

“Yes, really and Mike, do it a little harder this time.”

And so began our adventure into the wonderful world of spanking.  After those two hard spanks, I got up from the couch.  Michael thought I had enough.  Quite the contrary.  I merely got up to remove my jeans and underpants and put myself back into the same position.

“Really?” he asked again.

“Yes, unless you don’t want to.”

“You’re kidding right.  What man, in his right mind, wouldn’t want to spank that ass.”

The harder he spanked, the hotter I got.  I could feel his manhood growing with each slap on my ass, so it was having the same effect on him too.  When I feared sopping the couch with my juices, I suggested we take ourselves to our bedroom where we could go on to further enjoyment.  It was the hottest sex we ever had.

Our ‘fetish’ is our little secret and it keeps our marriage fresh.  At a party, he puts a hand on my butt and I’m ready to jump his bones, in a regular store we search for pervertibles, we exchange knowing looks when any mention of spanking is made, in public he will whisper in my ear about what he’s going to do to me when we get home and I’m jelly.

My husband still buys me flowers, sexy underwear and takes me out on dates.  He never forgets a birthday, anniversary or any other special day in our lives.  I am the envy of my social circle and the best part is when they ask me what is our secret, I tell them it’s because my husband spanks me.  They aren’t shocked, they laugh because they don’t believe me.  I try to convince them it’s the truth and they look at me, shake their heads and say “really”.  I answer yes really but they still don’t believe me.

At the last get together, when the topic came up again, I challenged them to give it a try and to report back the results at the next meeting.  So many of them shook their heads, others said no way but guess what?  At the next meeting,  my bestie came up to me, pulled me aside, and said that they’d given it a try and the next day her husband brought home flowers. 

Someday, she may feel comfortable sharing and who knows how many of the others may have secretly tried the formula to a happy, sex-filled life at their level of maturity.

How about you?  

See you later for more Aimless Ramblings.