Sunday, August 05, 2007
The Perfect Vacation For All
The legendary comic, Henny Youngman, once said, “I just flew in from Las Vegas … and, boy, are my arms tired!”
Well, I’ve just flown my two daughters to Florida, which has given me a sore butt!
Perhaps I should elaborate.
In my last post, I mentioned that my darling wife, Angela, was planning a vacation for the family. It turns out that Angela’s parents, who live in Florida, wanted to spend some time with Maribel and Colette. It also turns out that Maribel and Colette wanted to go to Disney World. Finally, it seems that Angela’s parents, who live in Florida (did I mention that already), were more than happy to take my daughters to Disney World. Seeing as Angela is recently unemployed, they offered to pay for the whole trip. Of course, Angela wouldn’t hear of such a thing. So she’s bought plane tickets to Florida for the girls, and her parents, who live in Florida (this is important, you know), will pay for the rest.
Now, since the temperature has been in the low to mid hundreds much of the summer, I was in no mood to go south during the hottest month of the year. Furthermore, there is no way that Angela, with her “fucked up back” (her doctor’s term, not mine), could spend four hours in an airplane, in addition to the extra eight spent sitting on the tarmac whilst the airlines figured out how a thunderstorm in Dubuque could disrupt their schedule. What this means is that, while our daughters will be lazing on the beach and blitzing Disney World with their grandparents, who live in Florida, Angela and I will have the house, which is a long way from Florida, to ourselves for an entire week. To a couple of spankos, I’m sure you know what that means.
That’s correct. Bliss.
We took the girls to the airport. Since Maribel is of age, and since non-passengers are no longer allowed past security in case we are carrying explosive credit cards, we dropped them off at the terminal. We offered to stay with them while they checked in, but Maribel, who has some experience traveling with her basketball team, said that she could handle everything. This probably meant that she wanted to have a beer in the airport tavern, which she will likely decline once she finds out that it costs ten bucks for a beer in an airport. So we gave them both hugs and kisses and wished them bon voyage.
As we left the airport, Angela and I chatted casually about mundane things. About halfway home, however, Angela abruptly changed tone.
“All right, young man,” she began. I love it when she calls me young man. It means that some spanking delight was upcoming. “When we get home, you are to go directly to the bedroom, remove all of your clothing, and stand in the corner with your hands behind your head.” She then proceeded to tell me everything that she had planned for me that afternoon.
Hence I sit here, clad only in a t-shirt, and with a wonderfully sore butt, as I write this. I believe that my butt will be sore quite a bit this week, which is perfectly acceptable with me. I have some plans of my own for Angela’s pretty posterior. While I love my daughters with all my soul, the spanko part of my is glad that they will be away for a stretch. Angela and I will be able to spend a lovely week engaged in our favorite hobby. Which is, of course, fantastic spanking.
Well, I’ve just flown my two daughters to Florida, which has given me a sore butt!
Perhaps I should elaborate.
In my last post, I mentioned that my darling wife, Angela, was planning a vacation for the family. It turns out that Angela’s parents, who live in Florida, wanted to spend some time with Maribel and Colette. It also turns out that Maribel and Colette wanted to go to Disney World. Finally, it seems that Angela’s parents, who live in Florida (did I mention that already), were more than happy to take my daughters to Disney World. Seeing as Angela is recently unemployed, they offered to pay for the whole trip. Of course, Angela wouldn’t hear of such a thing. So she’s bought plane tickets to Florida for the girls, and her parents, who live in Florida (this is important, you know), will pay for the rest.
Now, since the temperature has been in the low to mid hundreds much of the summer, I was in no mood to go south during the hottest month of the year. Furthermore, there is no way that Angela, with her “fucked up back” (her doctor’s term, not mine), could spend four hours in an airplane, in addition to the extra eight spent sitting on the tarmac whilst the airlines figured out how a thunderstorm in Dubuque could disrupt their schedule. What this means is that, while our daughters will be lazing on the beach and blitzing Disney World with their grandparents, who live in Florida, Angela and I will have the house, which is a long way from Florida, to ourselves for an entire week. To a couple of spankos, I’m sure you know what that means.
That’s correct. Bliss.
We took the girls to the airport. Since Maribel is of age, and since non-passengers are no longer allowed past security in case we are carrying explosive credit cards, we dropped them off at the terminal. We offered to stay with them while they checked in, but Maribel, who has some experience traveling with her basketball team, said that she could handle everything. This probably meant that she wanted to have a beer in the airport tavern, which she will likely decline once she finds out that it costs ten bucks for a beer in an airport. So we gave them both hugs and kisses and wished them bon voyage.
As we left the airport, Angela and I chatted casually about mundane things. About halfway home, however, Angela abruptly changed tone.
“All right, young man,” she began. I love it when she calls me young man. It means that some spanking delight was upcoming. “When we get home, you are to go directly to the bedroom, remove all of your clothing, and stand in the corner with your hands behind your head.” She then proceeded to tell me everything that she had planned for me that afternoon.
Hence I sit here, clad only in a t-shirt, and with a wonderfully sore butt, as I write this. I believe that my butt will be sore quite a bit this week, which is perfectly acceptable with me. I have some plans of my own for Angela’s pretty posterior. While I love my daughters with all my soul, the spanko part of my is glad that they will be away for a stretch. Angela and I will be able to spend a lovely week engaged in our favorite hobby. Which is, of course, fantastic spanking.
