Since the very beginning of my creation of bucket lists, I have had “get an over-the-knee spanking” at the very top.
When I was pregnant with Carter (about 8ish years ago), The Boyfriend had agreed to spank me. It was a short-lived situation that was a lot of fun for me. But after we had Carter, spankings went completely out the window. And that over-the-knee spanking stayed on the list.
Well, no longer!!!
He’s been spoiling me a lot lately. We’ve had some stuff going on aka “the crap we’re going through” (I’m attempting to write posts about this, but its taking some serious time, so I’m not going to go into too much detail), but in one way or another, things are changing for us. I think he feels very insecure in our relationship right now – and not without cause – and so he’s over-compensating in other ways in an attempt to save what feels to him like a failing relationship. Although, I assure you and him both that I am not going anywhere and have no desire to!!!
Anyways, back to the point of this post…
So, the spoiling started a few days ago. We went on a trip to Wal-Mart to pick up a few things and I walked out with basically an entire summer wardrobe. A few shirts, pants and shorts and a bunch of new thongs that I picked out because I knew he would like them. Then of course, there was the trip to Drumheller and that whole experience (which I’m also writing a post about…). On his last night off, I decide to slip into one of the dresses we got and one of the thongs.
We’re sitting on the couch and he decides to moisturize my feet and legs. This doesn’t happen very often anymore, but used to be a regular occurrence for us. After he’s done, he tells me to lay across his lap. I figure he’s just planning on moisturizing the backs of my thighs or maybe give me a nice ass massage. He lifts up the hem of my dress and then…
Hard, hard, hard slap right on my left cheek.
I squirmed, I kicked, I yelped. He liked that and the next thing you know, we’re having a good long spanking session. A hard spanking session. No real warm-up, no gentleness. He had said earlier in the day during an intense discussion that we were “going to have angry sex tonight“, and his hands felt angry but there was a tenderness in all the hardness.
I was all over the place on the couch across his legs. After the first few hits, every single one felt incredibly intense. My whole ass felt red everywhere, even though he had been hitting almost the exact same spot over and over on each cheek – save for the one closest to him. A few hits, just the edge of his palm or his fingertips, would nick between my legs and I would heave frantically – pain shooting through my insides and then subsiding in a way that literally made me feel the color red.
One good slap on my right cheek, sent me up on all fours and I collapsed with my head on his lap curled up in a ball. He wasn’t done with the spanking yet and continued to give me sporadic hard slaps in between drinking our coffees and smoking. When I laid back across his lap, in quick succession, three hard slaps on my left cheek. By now, that side felt fine for the most part – stingy but nicely numbing. So, the three hard slaps were gentle squirms, pleasurable wiggles, cooing. But then three hard slaps befell my right cheek. The second one caused me to kick up my legs and hold out my arms above my head, arch my back and squeal out. He had to hold my legs down to land the third hit and I swear I’ve never moved away from him faster.
He wanted pictures and told me to bend over the couch. Bright purple lines had begun forming all over both cheeks, especially the left one. You could see where he had hit hardest. Then, out of nowhere, the hardest slap. So hard that I still have a hand print leftover the next day! He was so sad that he didn’t get a video of my reaction. I flew forward and clasped onto the couch, bent down and moaned and groaned and whined, laughed out loud at the sensation, kept trying to stand up but the pain kept me crouching, gripping the couch for dear life!
He giggled and watched me squirm and wiggle and admired his handiwork. He came up behind me and stroked the hair out of my face and helped me to stand. Sitting on the couch was very hard, especially since I could feel the fabric of the couch through the soft dress that I was wearing, the coarse fabric scraping the welts that were now forming.
The sex afterwords was out of this world! My pussy actually ached when he woke me this morning for another round. I was bent over the arm of the couch, tied up for a short period, spread wide open and scrunched up in a tiny ball. He was on top, I was on top. Hands were absolutely everywhere and we were both drenched in sweat.
And I got so much amazing oral sex – like, I’m talking learned-new-things-about-how-wonderful-pleasure-can-be-type amazing!!! He spent time licking and kissing and sucking on things and in places that are rarely ever touched and kept doing this lovely thing with his lip coming up under my clit that would have my toes fiercely pointed. It was intimate and sensual and we were both surprised at how long it took me to cum. Which happened the first time kneeling over top of his face, with his hands going absolutely wild all over me.
There were so many intensely wonderful things happening everywhere. The crazy amount of eye contact – which typically isn’t a huge thing for The Boyfriend and I – during the fisting or the blowjob. His frequent use of his thumbs to either rub my clit or penetrate with, which I had told him that I had recently been fantasizing about a lot. There was also a lot of opportunity for each of us to admire each other – to admire his amazing body or to admire my vocalizations – especially being that we recently got a new picture taker AND for the first time in a few years brought the laptop up to make a home movie 😉
All-in-all, it was one of the greatest nights in our sexperiences, although like I said to him after the spanking, I’m sad that it will always be remembered directly along with the “crap we’re going through“. I’m sad that it’s a marred spanking. However, on the other hand, it’s greatness supersedes that sadness. It was almost everything you want in a sexperience. It was hours and hours and hours of some of best sex The Boyfriend and I have ever had. Not only was there great sex, but there was really great discussions had throughout.
At one point, there was just playful teasing while we browsed Amazon for sex toys – specifically restraints, because he’s apparently really into that right now (no complaints here 😉 😉 😉 ). Lots of questions about interests and limit-setting – neither of us is interested in enemas, hard limit! Another point, he gave me two options: go up to bed, get tied up and fucked, or go on cam and get fucked (which is inline with the “crap we’re going through“) and I immediately said “no” to option number two.
It always fascinates me how an emotionally-charged declination of consent can still result in amazing sex!
Because of the “crap we’re going through“, there were some incredibly awkward points of the sexperience. After the spanking and some of the beginning not-orgasm-focused oral and sex, he abruptly said, “I better never catch you with another man” – which stopped everything dead in its tracks and resulted in a good cuddling/comfort session. Or when I tried to explain, through very cryptic and broken sentences, that I absolutely hated that it took me breaking his heart to, nine years later, finally get an over-the-knee spanking or that I was worried that in some way he had felt obligated to spank me to be able to keep me – that he didn’t do it because he wanted to but because he felt like he had to. There were deep conversations mixed into all the sexiness going on and it made everything feel all that much more intense.
The worst part for both of us was when he came. We were trying really hard to cum together. He held off for so long and let me have two orgasms already. So, by the time he’s getting ready to cum and I’m on top and working on that third orgasm, it’s just not happening. He ends up cumming first at my encouragement. He’s decided he absolutely doesn’t like when this happens, because he ends up falling asleep without meaning to. He felt really bad afterwards that he had had to force himself to stay awake for my third and final orgasm of the night. I assured him that it hadn’t changed how I felt about the night.
We were open and vulnerable and wounded. It was beautiful and it hurt. It made me feel so much. And I desperately needed that!
I was expecting to feel more of the post-sex blues that I typically have the day after really mind-blowing sex between us. I was expecting to feel exhausted from the lack of sleep. I was expecting to be reeling mentally when I had time to think about all the things that happened last night. I was expecting to need some serious aftercare or for him to need it. But today, aside from aching thighs and a very tender, gently bruised backside, I feel really good. I feel full of love and optimistic and just really good. Waking up to another dose of sex and then spending the morning exchanging adoring glances with The Boyfriend has just really made everything feel blissful.