Sunday, December 02, 2007
Ye Olde Naked Weekend, Resumed Again
When last we left our heroes, Liz was planning on leaving my place despite a driving snowstorm.
Her car, however, had other ideas. Since Liz was a poor recent college grad like I, her car was, shall we say, somewhat less than cherry. The car was completely covered with ice, and all four doors had frozen shut. We scraped ice until our hands were numb. I then fetched a kettle of boiling water, and we were open the door. However, as I was clearing a path on the drive for her to pull out, I discovered that her tire had gone flat. Since this was the tire that she had replaced earlier in the evening, she was now without a spare. But that really didn’t matter, since her car refused to start, apparently due to a dead battery.
Freezing, we went back inside. Liz went for her AAA card and asked for the phone.
“My dear,” I told her, “There is a blizzard going on out there. Even should the tow trucks be running, they will have about a thousand calls that they will have to get to before they can come here. You’ll be lucky to see a tow truck before midnight.”
“Well what the fuck am I supposed to do?” she snapped back at me. “I have things that I really need to get done today!”
I just looked at her for a few seconds, then I had a thought. I slowly walked over and picked up the fourth and final object in my modest spanking implement collection: a fine, long-handled wooded shower brush. “With a mouth like that, young lady, the only thing you’re getting is a good spanking!”
Liz stared at me. At first, I thought that perhaps I had gone too far. Maybe it was important for her to be off, and I should be offering assistance rather than playing around. Then she shrugged.
“I guess you’re right,” she responded, taking off her coat.
“Then get over here!” I said, pointing to the floor just in front of where I was standing, behind my sofa, which jutted out at a 90 degree angle from the wall. “And get those pants off! You’re getting this on your bare bottom!”
Off came her pants, displaying once again for me her fine, shapely buttocks. There were a couple of marks left over from the previous evenings fun, but otherwise they were smooth and creamy. I bent her over the back of the sofa so that her head was below her waist. I took aim at the sweet spot on her glorious globe closest to me, and let the shower brush fly.
I gave her two dozen of my finest swats, twelve on each cheek. She took them well, staying in position over the back of the sofa. She was fairly vocal, and towards the end she began dancing back and forth between her feet. Her cheeks went from their creamy white with just a hint of pink to a bright and shiny fuchsia. When I finished, she was panting and giggling. She stood up and began to vigorously rub her aching backside.
“Allow me, my dear,” I said to her. I gently moved her hands out of the way and began sensuously massaging her bottom. Liz began making some cooing sounds, and then turned around, wrapped her arms around me, and planted her lips upon mine. I returned the kiss, and moved my hands up to embrace her.
“Keep your hands right where they are!” she said, so I went back to soothing her butt whist we smooched.
It was not long before I was also bereft of pants, and we were back on the sofa bed, doing what a man and a woman together will do when they have no pants on. However, as we neared the point of entry, we realized something quite important. To our horror, we discovered that we were out of condoms.
“Now,” Liz said, “there is no fucking way I want to get pregnant right now. So if there are no condoms, there will be no fucking.” It was a very poetic way of expressing her thoughts. Besides, my sentiments matched hers. I decided to drown my sorrows in beer and trundled over to the fridge. That was when I discovered that I was out of beer, too.
In the next episode, find out how Liz and I handled this imminent crisis.
Her car, however, had other ideas. Since Liz was a poor recent college grad like I, her car was, shall we say, somewhat less than cherry. The car was completely covered with ice, and all four doors had frozen shut. We scraped ice until our hands were numb. I then fetched a kettle of boiling water, and we were open the door. However, as I was clearing a path on the drive for her to pull out, I discovered that her tire had gone flat. Since this was the tire that she had replaced earlier in the evening, she was now without a spare. But that really didn’t matter, since her car refused to start, apparently due to a dead battery.
Freezing, we went back inside. Liz went for her AAA card and asked for the phone.
“My dear,” I told her, “There is a blizzard going on out there. Even should the tow trucks be running, they will have about a thousand calls that they will have to get to before they can come here. You’ll be lucky to see a tow truck before midnight.”
“Well what the fuck am I supposed to do?” she snapped back at me. “I have things that I really need to get done today!”
I just looked at her for a few seconds, then I had a thought. I slowly walked over and picked up the fourth and final object in my modest spanking implement collection: a fine, long-handled wooded shower brush. “With a mouth like that, young lady, the only thing you’re getting is a good spanking!”
Liz stared at me. At first, I thought that perhaps I had gone too far. Maybe it was important for her to be off, and I should be offering assistance rather than playing around. Then she shrugged.
“I guess you’re right,” she responded, taking off her coat.
“Then get over here!” I said, pointing to the floor just in front of where I was standing, behind my sofa, which jutted out at a 90 degree angle from the wall. “And get those pants off! You’re getting this on your bare bottom!”
Off came her pants, displaying once again for me her fine, shapely buttocks. There were a couple of marks left over from the previous evenings fun, but otherwise they were smooth and creamy. I bent her over the back of the sofa so that her head was below her waist. I took aim at the sweet spot on her glorious globe closest to me, and let the shower brush fly.
I gave her two dozen of my finest swats, twelve on each cheek. She took them well, staying in position over the back of the sofa. She was fairly vocal, and towards the end she began dancing back and forth between her feet. Her cheeks went from their creamy white with just a hint of pink to a bright and shiny fuchsia. When I finished, she was panting and giggling. She stood up and began to vigorously rub her aching backside.
“Allow me, my dear,” I said to her. I gently moved her hands out of the way and began sensuously massaging her bottom. Liz began making some cooing sounds, and then turned around, wrapped her arms around me, and planted her lips upon mine. I returned the kiss, and moved my hands up to embrace her.
“Keep your hands right where they are!” she said, so I went back to soothing her butt whist we smooched.
It was not long before I was also bereft of pants, and we were back on the sofa bed, doing what a man and a woman together will do when they have no pants on. However, as we neared the point of entry, we realized something quite important. To our horror, we discovered that we were out of condoms.
“Now,” Liz said, “there is no fucking way I want to get pregnant right now. So if there are no condoms, there will be no fucking.” It was a very poetic way of expressing her thoughts. Besides, my sentiments matched hers. I decided to drown my sorrows in beer and trundled over to the fridge. That was when I discovered that I was out of beer, too.
In the next episode, find out how Liz and I handled this imminent crisis.
