Wednesday, November 28, 2007
Ye Olde Naked Weekend, Resumed
To recap, I had invited a co-worker, Liz, out to dinner, however, she arrived late due to car problems encountered on the way. To make matters worse, the weather was awful. We decided to stay in and get naked. Liz discovered my spanking implement collection and asked to be spanked. What follows is a continuation of how we spent that night.
Due to the deteriorating state of the weather, as well as the increasing interest in bun warming, it became clear that Liz would not be returning to her domicile that night. Being a poor bachelor and extremely recent college grad, my bed was a mere twin, large enough for two to fool around on, but not large enough for two to sleep comfortably on. Fortunately, my sofa folded out into a bed large enough for two to canoodle on pleasantly.
We laid there under all of my blankets, cuddling, for it was a cold night, and watching television. After a while, I suggested an alternative way to keep warm. I rose and went back to my bedroom, where I retrieved the rest of my spanking implements. In for a dime, figured I, in for a dollar. I laid most of them aside but brought a nice, wooden hairbrush back to the sofa with me.
I crawled back onto the sofa, suggested to Liz that she become comfortable by laying across my lap, and showed her the brush. She was only too happy to comply. With her butt placed well within my sights, I re-warmed her. Figuring I had all night, I took my time and covered all of her fine, fleshy fanny with swats. I hit her hard enough to keep her squirming and giggling, but not hard enough to make her cry out.
When her entire rear end was a very attractive shade of crimson, I stopped to admire my handiwork, and to warm my hands on her hindquarters. We snuggled up for a while, then it was my turn to spend some time across her lap.
Liz handled the hairbrush with proficiency. Since I was many swats behind her (so to speak), I had her paddle me faster and harder. It was a most remarkable spanking. I laid there, moaning and wriggling with pleasure, and she covered my bare butt with whack after wonderful whack. The pain and heat spread to my loins, and since my loins were in close proximity to her loins, she was immediately aware of my reaction. She trusted her spanko instincts, though, and continued spanking me, with increased intensity. My backside became hotter and hotter, like cement in the sunshine.
When it was deemed that my rear end had been sufficiently spanked, or Liz’s arm became tired, she discarded the hairbrush. I rolled off her lap and into a semi-seated position on the sofa bed. Liz reached for her purse and pulled out a handy condom, and then she crawled on top of me, and we made love again, with lots of laughing and giggling and silliness. When we were both satiated, we pulled the quilts and blankets over ourselves while still naked and entwined, and, as we listened to the wind howling outside, we fell asleep.
I awoke before dawn, freezing. Liz had managed to appropriate all of the covers for herself, leaving me. Not wanting to wake her, for she seemed so warm and content, I instead rose and went into my bedroom. I donned a big sweatshirt, pulled out my flannel bed sheets, and sunk into my own bed, warm and comfy and happy.
I awoke a while later and saw Liz standing over my bed, glowering. “What the fuck are you doing here?” she angrily asked me.
“Sleeping,” I replied, groggily.
“In here, all nice and warm, leaving me alone in the living room to freeze?”
“Freeze?” I responded. “But you had all of the blankets. I came in here because you had stolen them all!” I began to get irritated until I saw that she was holding one of my spanking implements, and old, worn leather belt that I had found at a thrift store. Then I understood that perhaps her anger was feigned, and, in any event, she had planned on warming me up.
“Roll over, buster,” she said as she swept the covers off of me. She was pretty good at this spanko stuff, I thought. I rolled onto my stomach, and she reached down and pulled my sweatshirt up a ways, making sure that my butt would not be afforded any protection. Liz then straightened up, doubled the belt over, raised her arm and brought the belt down in a mighty arc.
“Yowch!” I shouted. The end of the belt had missed my bottom and wrapped around, catching me further down on my hip. I swore ferociously as I rubbed the spot vigorously with my hand. I got no sympathy from Liz. “Move your hand or I’ll whip that, too!” she said.
Liz did take the hint, however, and her next stroke hit me square in the middle of my cheeks. I had never actually been spanked with this belt, and I was surprised at how painful it was. But since I was at this time an irrevocable spanko, the pain quickly subsided and was replaced by a wonderful warmth. And since Liz’s aim was, except for the first lash, exceptional, my derriere was quickly burning delightfully.
When Liz completed my much deserved, and much appreciated, punishment, I dragged my sorry ass out of bed and peered out the window at the conditions. They were deplorable. The world was covered with at least six inches of snow with an icy crust on top. Even worse, when I turned on the local television station to see if they were broadcasting the weather, it informed us that the roads were close to impassable, and that the storm that was upon us would deposit another foot of snow before the day was out.
Liz was very disappointed. “I have things to do today,” she said.
“Well,” I responded, “unless you were going to do them around your place, they ain’t going to get done. If you were planning on driving around, those plans are shot now. We may as well stay here and watch more basketball.”
This solution did not seem to please Liz, so I first offered to make breakfast. I cracked some eggs, cut up a green pepper (I always keep a well-stocked refrigerator), added some mushrooms, swiss cheese and parsley, and made omelets. They were yummy. Liz went to the powder rooms while I was cleaning up, and she returned dressed and wearing her coat.
“I really have to go,” she said. I was crestfallen. I was at least looking forward to maybe one more spanking. But, being a gentleman, I told her that I would help her clean off her car and see her on her way.
In the next installment, we find out if Liz really does leave.
Due to the deteriorating state of the weather, as well as the increasing interest in bun warming, it became clear that Liz would not be returning to her domicile that night. Being a poor bachelor and extremely recent college grad, my bed was a mere twin, large enough for two to fool around on, but not large enough for two to sleep comfortably on. Fortunately, my sofa folded out into a bed large enough for two to canoodle on pleasantly.
We laid there under all of my blankets, cuddling, for it was a cold night, and watching television. After a while, I suggested an alternative way to keep warm. I rose and went back to my bedroom, where I retrieved the rest of my spanking implements. In for a dime, figured I, in for a dollar. I laid most of them aside but brought a nice, wooden hairbrush back to the sofa with me.
I crawled back onto the sofa, suggested to Liz that she become comfortable by laying across my lap, and showed her the brush. She was only too happy to comply. With her butt placed well within my sights, I re-warmed her. Figuring I had all night, I took my time and covered all of her fine, fleshy fanny with swats. I hit her hard enough to keep her squirming and giggling, but not hard enough to make her cry out.
When her entire rear end was a very attractive shade of crimson, I stopped to admire my handiwork, and to warm my hands on her hindquarters. We snuggled up for a while, then it was my turn to spend some time across her lap.
Liz handled the hairbrush with proficiency. Since I was many swats behind her (so to speak), I had her paddle me faster and harder. It was a most remarkable spanking. I laid there, moaning and wriggling with pleasure, and she covered my bare butt with whack after wonderful whack. The pain and heat spread to my loins, and since my loins were in close proximity to her loins, she was immediately aware of my reaction. She trusted her spanko instincts, though, and continued spanking me, with increased intensity. My backside became hotter and hotter, like cement in the sunshine.
When it was deemed that my rear end had been sufficiently spanked, or Liz’s arm became tired, she discarded the hairbrush. I rolled off her lap and into a semi-seated position on the sofa bed. Liz reached for her purse and pulled out a handy condom, and then she crawled on top of me, and we made love again, with lots of laughing and giggling and silliness. When we were both satiated, we pulled the quilts and blankets over ourselves while still naked and entwined, and, as we listened to the wind howling outside, we fell asleep.
I awoke before dawn, freezing. Liz had managed to appropriate all of the covers for herself, leaving me. Not wanting to wake her, for she seemed so warm and content, I instead rose and went into my bedroom. I donned a big sweatshirt, pulled out my flannel bed sheets, and sunk into my own bed, warm and comfy and happy.
I awoke a while later and saw Liz standing over my bed, glowering. “What the fuck are you doing here?” she angrily asked me.
“Sleeping,” I replied, groggily.
“In here, all nice and warm, leaving me alone in the living room to freeze?”
“Freeze?” I responded. “But you had all of the blankets. I came in here because you had stolen them all!” I began to get irritated until I saw that she was holding one of my spanking implements, and old, worn leather belt that I had found at a thrift store. Then I understood that perhaps her anger was feigned, and, in any event, she had planned on warming me up.
“Roll over, buster,” she said as she swept the covers off of me. She was pretty good at this spanko stuff, I thought. I rolled onto my stomach, and she reached down and pulled my sweatshirt up a ways, making sure that my butt would not be afforded any protection. Liz then straightened up, doubled the belt over, raised her arm and brought the belt down in a mighty arc.
“Yowch!” I shouted. The end of the belt had missed my bottom and wrapped around, catching me further down on my hip. I swore ferociously as I rubbed the spot vigorously with my hand. I got no sympathy from Liz. “Move your hand or I’ll whip that, too!” she said.
Liz did take the hint, however, and her next stroke hit me square in the middle of my cheeks. I had never actually been spanked with this belt, and I was surprised at how painful it was. But since I was at this time an irrevocable spanko, the pain quickly subsided and was replaced by a wonderful warmth. And since Liz’s aim was, except for the first lash, exceptional, my derriere was quickly burning delightfully.
When Liz completed my much deserved, and much appreciated, punishment, I dragged my sorry ass out of bed and peered out the window at the conditions. They were deplorable. The world was covered with at least six inches of snow with an icy crust on top. Even worse, when I turned on the local television station to see if they were broadcasting the weather, it informed us that the roads were close to impassable, and that the storm that was upon us would deposit another foot of snow before the day was out.
Liz was very disappointed. “I have things to do today,” she said.
“Well,” I responded, “unless you were going to do them around your place, they ain’t going to get done. If you were planning on driving around, those plans are shot now. We may as well stay here and watch more basketball.”
This solution did not seem to please Liz, so I first offered to make breakfast. I cracked some eggs, cut up a green pepper (I always keep a well-stocked refrigerator), added some mushrooms, swiss cheese and parsley, and made omelets. They were yummy. Liz went to the powder rooms while I was cleaning up, and she returned dressed and wearing her coat.
“I really have to go,” she said. I was crestfallen. I was at least looking forward to maybe one more spanking. But, being a gentleman, I told her that I would help her clean off her car and see her on her way.
In the next installment, we find out if Liz really does leave.
