Tuesday, July 11, 2006
The Spanko Residence, Part The Third
Presented for your enjoyment is the third installment of the story of how Angela and I discovered the parcel that was to become our home. In the first episode, we chanced upon a property that had been a small farm. Part two talked about what we found when we toured the property. At the end, Angela had an idea as to what types of activities in which we we could engage in the big old barn.
Since we had left the little one with the grandparents, we were in no particular hurry to get home. I immediately turned the car around and began to proceed back to the farmstead, desperately hoping that the real estate agent was long gone upon our return. Upon arrival, we quickly canvassed the area and found the property to be deserted. We hastened to the barn.
No sooner had we entered the barn that Angela removed her dainty female undergarment (it was a mild evening so she had worn a knee-length casual skirt). She scurried to the center of the floor and flipped up her skirt. “You first,” she giggled, then bent over, giving me my most favorite view in the whole world. I whipped off my belt and told her to get ready. Her little squeal indicated that she was.
I fired off a good lash with the belt. It struck with a pleasing smack on her wondrous posterior. Amazingly, despite the size of the building, there was no echo. Apparently, the wooden walls and dirt floor nicely absorbed sound. I let loose with several more swings, and Angela jumped and giggled, and kept bending over for more. Not wanting to disappoint my darling spouse, I proceeded to thoroughly thrashed her behind while she sung with pleasure.
When I paused, she stood up and turned around. My turn,” she indicated, reaching for my belt. I allowed her to take it, lowered my trousers and undertrousers to the floor, and joyfully assumed the position. The first stroke that Angela delivered stung like a most delicious fire, and I moaned with delight. She wasted no time in following up with another, and another.
I must confess, I find the belt to be a most delightful implement with which to be spanked. When swung horizontally, it has a most satisfactory sting, making my rump region feel like a sparkler. It leaves me feeling warm and cozy, and yet, if the spanker is careful, doesn’t leave marks or bruises. And Angela was quite proficient with it. She found a nice rhythm, and moved the lashes up and down so that my entire bottom was treated to an erotic pleasure.
When Angela felt that I had been comfortably thrashed, she stopped and stepped back to admire her handiwork. After allowing her to gaze for a bit, I rose and turned around. She immediately noticed my quite obvious arousal. She came to me, pulled my face to hers, and proceeded to plant a long, passionate, thoroughly enjoyable kiss upon my lips and she reached down with her other hand to gently grasp my swollen manhood. When our faces disengaged, I held up a finger to pause her, then pulled up my trousers and hurried out to the car to get the blanket that we kept in the trunk for just such an emergency. When I returned, Angela was naked, so, naturally, I also donned my birthday suit.
We made the kind love that evening that you make in forbidden places, with lots of low moans, panting, and laughs. It was more than a quickie, but not as languorous as on a soft mattress surrounded by pillows. We ran our hands over each other, engaged in oral pleasure, and took part in intercourse in several basic positions. While there was some urgency in our coupling, we were not in a terrible hurry, so we worked to delay ultimate gratification for a few extra minutes. When we finally climaxed, we did so with moans and laughter. As we at last collapsed in each other’s arms, I felt so invigorated it was like being in college again.
When she caught her breath, Angela looked up at me and said, “We have to buy this place.” Since we had just christened it, I naturally agreed with her. “However,” I said, “we need to do some major remodeling. We can’t settle for that little house.”
Thus ends part three. Part four will describe how we made our decision to purchase the farmstead.
Part Four ==>
Since we had left the little one with the grandparents, we were in no particular hurry to get home. I immediately turned the car around and began to proceed back to the farmstead, desperately hoping that the real estate agent was long gone upon our return. Upon arrival, we quickly canvassed the area and found the property to be deserted. We hastened to the barn.
No sooner had we entered the barn that Angela removed her dainty female undergarment (it was a mild evening so she had worn a knee-length casual skirt). She scurried to the center of the floor and flipped up her skirt. “You first,” she giggled, then bent over, giving me my most favorite view in the whole world. I whipped off my belt and told her to get ready. Her little squeal indicated that she was.
I fired off a good lash with the belt. It struck with a pleasing smack on her wondrous posterior. Amazingly, despite the size of the building, there was no echo. Apparently, the wooden walls and dirt floor nicely absorbed sound. I let loose with several more swings, and Angela jumped and giggled, and kept bending over for more. Not wanting to disappoint my darling spouse, I proceeded to thoroughly thrashed her behind while she sung with pleasure.
When I paused, she stood up and turned around. My turn,” she indicated, reaching for my belt. I allowed her to take it, lowered my trousers and undertrousers to the floor, and joyfully assumed the position. The first stroke that Angela delivered stung like a most delicious fire, and I moaned with delight. She wasted no time in following up with another, and another.
I must confess, I find the belt to be a most delightful implement with which to be spanked. When swung horizontally, it has a most satisfactory sting, making my rump region feel like a sparkler. It leaves me feeling warm and cozy, and yet, if the spanker is careful, doesn’t leave marks or bruises. And Angela was quite proficient with it. She found a nice rhythm, and moved the lashes up and down so that my entire bottom was treated to an erotic pleasure.
When Angela felt that I had been comfortably thrashed, she stopped and stepped back to admire her handiwork. After allowing her to gaze for a bit, I rose and turned around. She immediately noticed my quite obvious arousal. She came to me, pulled my face to hers, and proceeded to plant a long, passionate, thoroughly enjoyable kiss upon my lips and she reached down with her other hand to gently grasp my swollen manhood. When our faces disengaged, I held up a finger to pause her, then pulled up my trousers and hurried out to the car to get the blanket that we kept in the trunk for just such an emergency. When I returned, Angela was naked, so, naturally, I also donned my birthday suit.
We made the kind love that evening that you make in forbidden places, with lots of low moans, panting, and laughs. It was more than a quickie, but not as languorous as on a soft mattress surrounded by pillows. We ran our hands over each other, engaged in oral pleasure, and took part in intercourse in several basic positions. While there was some urgency in our coupling, we were not in a terrible hurry, so we worked to delay ultimate gratification for a few extra minutes. When we finally climaxed, we did so with moans and laughter. As we at last collapsed in each other’s arms, I felt so invigorated it was like being in college again.
When she caught her breath, Angela looked up at me and said, “We have to buy this place.” Since we had just christened it, I naturally agreed with her. “However,” I said, “we need to do some major remodeling. We can’t settle for that little house.”
Thus ends part three. Part four will describe how we made our decision to purchase the farmstead.
Part Four ==>
