How Embarrassing

Well it was for me but it was also good fun and I had a pleasant couple of days, got some shopping done and got caned too because we had a nice big end of block hotel room with a cleaning store one side and Cheshire fields the other so no noise problem.

We went up north for a couple of days recently, used a friend's surplus hotel points which can't be carried over to next year and he can't use in the coming weeks. The problem was they're not transferable so P had to be our friend as far as reception were concerned. We haven't done that before but our friend has done it for others and assured us it would be OK, no questions asked, he even gave P his user details to download the hotel app so that we could check in without even going to reception.

Well it didn't quite work out that easy. The moment we drove into the hotel grounds a notification came on P's phone, it was the app telling us there was a problem with electronic checking-in and could we please go to reception. P cursed technology, said we'd have to book into another hotel, then parked and phoned our friend for advice. He said it would be OK not to worry just go to reception and blag it out. Hmm. We tried to think of the possibilities, P said only one of us should go to reception and it should be me and I could act completely innocent and if there was a problem just come back to the car. Then he had another idea, he said he'd go because it was a male name and he'd just impersonate our friend and if they asked for ID he'd say he didn't have any on him at all, not even a credit card because he'd been told not to bring any by his lady friend, who was paying for everything, nudge nudge wink wink. He said hotels were used to that sort of thing. So off he went. Five minutes later he returned to the car beaming, all sorted, and went round to the boot to get our shared bag. He also brought out a long cardboard tube which I recognised at once as one of mine which I use to mail canes in.

He took the bag and handed the tube to me. When we walked past reception the girl smiled at P, looked me up and down and nodded, I blushed and hurried past. We got into our room and I asked P what had happened at reception but he wouldn't tell me, he just seemed amused but I could tell he was relieved too. He asked me to make a quick cup of tea before we went into town, I filled the kettle in the bathroom and when I came out he'd taken the tube over to what I supposed would be his side of the bed and laid its contents on the duvet. Three canes, different sizes, I fumbled getting the kettle on its perch, my mind was seriously distracted. I tried to sound casual as I asked him what they were for.

"I think you know well enough what they're for. Caning bottoms," he said.

"Do you know someone up here who needs caning then?" I asked, trying to keep my voice even.

"I think we both know somebody who hasn't been caned a while," he said, "it's just a question of which cane depending how naughty she is."

My legs went weak and I felt my knickers moisten as he said it. He's never done that before, I don't mean caning me which he's done loads of times. I mean the way he was doing it, inferring that this would be recreational and could be adjusted to suit my appetite rather than retribution for some spurious misdemeanour. Ooh so it was up to me. I took two mugs of tea over to the big picture window where there were a couple of easy chairs and sat down. P came over, I put my hand on his, I didn't say anything I didn't need to it was an advance thank you.

We went out to a designer outlet half an hour later and stopped in town on the way back. I bought some stuff I liked but didn't really need, I was bouncy and over playing my delight at being surrounded by lots of goodies. We split up in town because P wanted to visit a wine merchant he's used a few times and I had some ideas of my own. We met at the car as the shops were closing, I'd got quite a few bags of stuff, one of which was for him which I couldn't show him so I bundled them all together into the boot and told him on the way back to the hotel only what I wanted him to know about. One thing I told him was that I had ordered two cute little satchel handbags in leather, one with a fox and the other with a duck on the front, lovely and different, P said he couldn't imagine me wearing either of them, I said not for me for our granddaughter. She's only fourteen months, I could read his thoughts and quickly said they are unique and she'd love them in a few years time.

"Sounds to me like someones been very naughty. Profligate even." My husband muttered.

"Yes P, I think you're right."

Back at the hotel, which was a very nice converted manor house by the way, I showered while P caught up with a few messages. The receptionist had smiled again as we walked past, she was in on a little secret. Then I thought with horror what if a member of staff had gone into our room for any reason while we'd been out, and seen the canes out on the bed, I had no idea but I was sure it wouldn't have remained a secret for very long if she had. I came out of the bathroom to dry my hair and P went in for a shower, he wasn't long, I was still drying when he came out. He had a towel wrapped round his waist and came straight over to where I was standing, in my knickers only, in front of the mirror. I watched his reflection approach and went to turn but he stopped me and told me to carry on drying. My arms were raised, one with the hairdryer and one with my brush, and he slid his hands around my waist and up over my breasts, lightly grazing my nipples and making them hard. No more than a minute passed with him nuzzling me from behind before I switched off the dryer and let it slide to the floor. I leaned my hands against the mirror and stood on tiptoe to push my backside into P's groin, letting go a little squeal as I felt his erection.

"I think you need to be caned now, madam (yes that's what he called me), you've been a very naughty girl this afternoon and I think you need a good caning before we go out, to teach you a lesson and to make sure you behave later." He was still taunting my nipples as he told me this and I'm sure I felt them harden further as I whimpered.

He took me over to the bed, selected the middle size cane I suppose about 70cm and quite whippy looking, and made me bend over with my hands flat on the duvet, roughly mid way along so that he could cane from both sides. His towel had fallen off over by the mirror and I could see his cock was seriously engorged, that made me whimper too but not as much as what followed. He caned me efficiently and effectively, the first dozen over my knickers and then a further dozen after he took them down to my knees. I screamed a few times and had to put one hand across my mouth. By the end I was stomping my feet and tears were swelling up and I was begging him to stop I'd learnt my lesson.

I stood up with his help and he wrapped his arms gently around me, I could feel his cock against my bottom, it was solid. I'd lost my wetness but his cock still felt good. He told me he wasn't going to fuck me or let me get any sort of relief, he wanted me lively and alert and on my best behaviour, not in some post orgasmic slumber, we were meeting friends for dinner and he said I was always much better company after I'd had a good spanking. I think by that he meant a frisson remained. Anyway he stood back and turned me at an angle so that my bottom showed in the mirror and told me to look at it. Angry red and with lots of deeper coloured lines with white edges which I knew were welts. P patted my bum and told me to pull up my knickers, finish my hair and get dressed. I looked down at his cock, he must have seen the desire in my eyes.

"No, what's good for the gander is also good for the goose, or should that be the other way round," he laughed.

So out we went, neither of us sated both of us worked up, me with a very sore bottom. We got a Uber ride into town, first time for P, he thought they were good, the car was a Jaguar and the seats comfy which suited me:)

I chose the wine for our meal it was a fairly pricey Malbec and I ordered a second one later..well there were four of us! I wondered if that would get me spanked next day.

When we returned to the hotel, reception had changed and there were no funny looks or smiles just a courteous good evening. In our room we had noisy sex with me coming twice and P bellowing like a raging bull. Good job we had that end room.

On the drive back home, just out of interest, P told me he didn't have to tell any story to reception, they had a temporary problem with their app that was all. So I needn't have been embarrassed at all.

Have a fun weekend.

Ronnie
xx 

Enough's enough

That's what I was told and, although he had the good grace to bear with me for another twenty minutes before steering us back to the car park, my husband meant It.

"Bad enough accompanying you when you're searching for stuff for yourself, but this is much worse. No way can this just go on and on, it's ridiculous. The only good side is that you're hardly lusting over the fashion stuff, in fact I think you've barely noticed it."

This is a new experience for P. Last time I was doing this kind of shopping he was so embroiled building his business that he was unaware of it, even when he did accompany me his mind was never really on it, except for the bigger stuff like pushchairs and car seats which for some reason (male mind) interested him. You see we'd been shopping, ostensibly for some things I needed for our upcoming trip but in reality baby clothes kept jumping out from the rails at me. You see our son and dil are having a baby, yep I shall become a grandmother, and I'm over the moon about it. The only thing is they refuse to reveal the sex, at least at this stage, so I'm having to choose colours carefully which is probably no bad thing really although I'm still trying to wrangle it out of them.

P says it's good to keep it secret, who'd want a load of traditional (read old fashioned) blue oriented or pink oriented clothes and accessories. In fact he even advised our son at dinner the other week to refuse to allocate a gender at all until some time in the child's teens when it can make up its own mind, politically correct and all that. Thank goodness they both know P's sense of humour. 

Anyway that's what happened and we returned home with P not really in a bad mood although he did say he didn't want to be hoodwinked again and I should make such trips with friends or use the internet. Men, they don't understand.

When we got home I took the bags upstairs and started laying the clothes out in little sets on the bed. P followed me up after a few minutes to change into shorts, he wasn't amused to see the bed covered with baby gear, he said he'd made a cup of tea downstairs and I said I'd be down in a minute. He put his shorts on and left the room but was back before the door had closed.

"No you won't," he said with a determined look on his face, "I know what will happen when I go down, you'll be arranging and rearranging this lot and getting all soppy and dreamy. You can come with me into the office instead." He took me by the arm into the office and spanked me. And lectured me about being a good woman but having to keep a sense of priority and not going over the top and anyway it was months away etc etc. It did make me think about the amount of physical as well as mental time I'd been tying up but I don't think the spanking will change me. Other than short term of course, which was pretty predictable. Thoughts of babies faded and thoughts of my husband's cock, which I could feel nuzzling against my hip, took charge.

"Thank you for spanking me and putting me straight," I said when the spanks stopped. Then I slid off his lap onto my knees, pulled his shorts down at the front and took his cock into my mouth. "I won't be a naughty girl........ and drag you along....... under false pretences in future," I said between licks and slurps. Then I felt his hand grasp my head.

"Oh god!! Oh God no!!!" I heard him cry as his hips thrust his cock to the back of my mouth and his first big spurt hit my throat. I swallowed as much as I could and made sure to keep sucking for the after spurts as I reversed my mouth along his shaft. Cum dripped from my lips onto his shorts as I looked up at him.

"Why were you screaming No, didn't you like it darling?" I asked in feigned innocence.

"I think you know the answer to that," he gasped with a smile.

"See, that spanking has helped me prioritise already."

Have a fun weekend.

Ronnie

xx

Cold Fish

No it's not about a person, it was something I ate on my recent trip t0 Spain, it was the first time I'd tried it, carpaccio of cod to be exact, served with a small salad dressed with romesco sauce, which originated in Tarragona so you'd think they'd be good at it and they were. P had to persuade me to try it, I've always been a bit funny about uncooked fish although he eats it with gusto whenever he gets the chance. Anyway I loved it but I don't suppose it will be going on the household menu because cod from Waitrose or Tesco isn't likely to compare with cod fresh from the harbour. I know they call the stuff on their counters fresh fish but I also know it has been deep chilled and has been out of the sea for a lot longer than they'd care to publicise, long enough for flavour to dilute.

Anyway this post isn't to criticise the supermarkets, it's first to celebrate the fact that I've broken a personal food barrier and I'm going to try sushi next, and secondly to share with you what happened afterwards or the next morning to be precise, or to be even more precise a bit of both.

We'd had a lovely evening, we'd had a couple of beers with a Norwegian couple, eaten well, it was warm and were both in good spirits and decided to walk back through the old town to our hotel, in all about a 40 min walk. On the outside of town we had a stretch of about 3/4 mile of straight line Roman road to negotiate, mostly downhill. As we strolled along, it was near midnight by the way, P spotted a hooded character about a hundred yards ahead, swaying a bit but he didn't seem drunk, he was on the opposite side of the road but going in our direction. I felt P stiffen, he said it was odd we hadn't seen any drunks around, there were no other pedestrians and very few passing vehicles. The guy turned his head a couple of times as he swayed, easily enough to see us. I said maybe we should slow down let him get on his way but P said no that wasn't a good idea, he said druggies sometimes felt the cold even in warm weather he might have been on something. Then the guy crossed the road onto our side and P said "Uh uh, here we go."

I said let's go back into town it isn't far, but P said no way, don't show any sign of any concern at all, stand up straight and we'll cross to where he was, walk briskly as we cross just to show we're fit, and talk a bit louder. Don't look round at him. But I did, I couldn't help it. P said, "Shit, I told you not to do that". Then P turned round and asked loudly, "You alright mate?" Then back to me, "He's probably just had one too many," There was no reply from the hoodie. P said just carry on walking and don't fucking look round, if he crosses over again I'll tell you what to do otherwise just carry on and keep chatting. P put his arm round my shoulder and pulled me against him and then laughed aloud as if we'd just shared a joke. We walked a few more minutes and were within site of our hotel on our original side of the road when P said ok let's speed up a bit now, we'll re-cross the road and when we do if he's still there we're going to speed up and if he does the same I want you to run to the hotel, I won't be far behind. I told him I wasn't going to do that but he snarled, "Fucking do it if I say so please don't argue." I could sense the tension in my husband, he's over six foot and reasonably fit but you never know what a potential assailant might have. Anyway we crossed and P looked round but the hoodie had gone, whether he turned into an alley or a doorway we'll never know. P just said ok, let's just keep going not too fast and not too slow and don't bloody argue with me if ever anything like that happens again.

The hotel bar was closing so we went up to our room, had a glass of wine, watched the boats out at sea and chatted a bit, P wouldn't say what he was going to do if the guy had turned out bad but he did say he was going to spank me for questioning his order at a time like that. I knew he wouldn't do it then but, sure enough, he did in the morning, early too about half seven, the TV came on, cold water running in the bathroom, me still half asleep when the sheets were pulled off me and he turned me over and gave me a short but sharp caning reminding me about last night's incident, or non-incident which could have been an incident, and stressing not to doubt his judgement no matter how loyal I felt to do as I was told.

Then I told him I was sorry and he gave me a cuddle. Then I reached down and grabbed his cock through his pants and it was hard and I slithered down the bed and took it out of his pants. He said he hadn't showered, he'd eaten shellfish as well as fish the night before. I just said "Shhhhh....I know what I'm doing". And I did and I got a nice reminder of the fish, not too strong, as my husband and protector ejaculated into my mouth:)

Have a fun weekend.

Ronnie

xx   

Jazz and the Cane

I got caned in Sheffield on the weekend and it was unexpected and really quite..ahem..delicious. You might wonder what the cane and jazz have in common and to my knowledge nothing at all but what binds them in my mind is that my husband likes jazz and I, well, you know. We went to see Post Modern Jukebox perform there on Friday night and although I wouldn't class myself as a real jazz fan I did enjoy them. The fact that I was sitting on a sore backside during much of the concert was a bonus.

Sheffield's a ninety minute drive for us although it took a bit longer in Friday afternoon's traffic, P said we'd drive back after the show but I thought that was a bad idea and booked us into a budget hotel, I only told P about that on the drive up and he wasn't best pleased. I said we could get up, have a leisurely breakfast, have a wander around the town (I'd never been), maybe shop a bit, drive back in easy traffic etc, sales person that I am. He said he had stuff to do Saturday morning, I asked him what it was and if it was important, he wouldn't say so I assumed he was just irritated that I'd done something without telling him. He told me I should call them and cancel, I said I couldn't it was a no-cancel deal, we'd lose the money. I was annoyed, he knew it and five minutes later he said OK we'd stay over but he wasn't happy he hadn't brought any clothes or toiletries or anything. I smiled and told him not to worry, be a big boy. I'd thrown some stuff together for both of us, it was in the boot, I hadn't told him and still didn't.

We had plenty of time because we'd planned to grab a snack somewhere, so P asked me to get the route on my phone and changed course and drove straight to the hotel, he said we'd leave the car there and get a taxi to the show being as I'd booked us in, then he could have a beer, might as well make the best of things now I'd committed us, he said it a bit grudgingly. I told him not to be so miserable and after we'd checked in and found our room I asked him if he'd pop and fetch my bag out of the boot. He said he didn't know I'd got a bag in the boot but off he went. When he returned he had my bag and a short garden cane with white paint on the end of it. My eyes widened. I'd actually seen it in the boot and not given it a second thought, we'd been helping our son with some decorating recently and it didn't seem odd.

"What are you doing with that? Have you just walked through reception with it?" I asked, more concerned at that point about what the girl on the desk might have thought. 

"Well it wouldn't have got here any other way," said my husband, "and as to what I'm going to do with it, you'll find out soon enough." He put my bag on the bed and held the cane across both hands and flexed it a bit, I suppose it was about two feet long maybe a bit more. I told him he couldn't cane me with it, there was paint all over it. "Oh that dried ages ago, it was no good for stirring paint anyway, too bendy," he said, "but it will do very nicely to give you an impromptu caning. It's obvious that you had this planned or you wouldn't have brought your bag with you, I think a sore bottom is in order. Now take down your jeans and stand by the bed."

He came and stood along side me. I could have protested but I'd still have got it. He didn't seem genuinely mad with me, I didn't think it would be too hard and anyway I was starting to feel aroused by him telling me off in his own way. "Bend over, hands on the mattress and stay there, don't dare try to get up until I tell you to." He lifted the tail of my shirt. "That paint better not be wet," I said stupidly, "I've only just bought that top." My husband told me I was hardly in a position to threaten him and that even if it was wet it would be marking my bottom not my shirt. Then he pulled my knickers down and I gasped sharply and emitted a tiny whimper. Then he stood a bit to the side and I felt the first stroke of pain from his paint stirrer cane.

It felt like a regular cane but not quite as hard, the length I thought. It got harder though and I squealed that he hadn't warmed me. He just said that he was warming me now. I couldn't disagree. He gave me more than twenty four strokes, I knew that because he moved from one side of me to the other four times, which he usually does each six strokes to keep things even and in case wrapping occurs which can happen with longer whippier canes but I thought not with this one. He added a few strokes at the end, from the left, really hard ones to leave an impression.

"Right, up you get, pull your knickers up and let's get going." He sounded pleased. I said I just wanted to go to the bathroom and put my face straight, I took a couple of things out of my bag, I hadn't been crying but it makes him happy. "Well quick about it then," he said.

I came out of the bathroom a few minutes later, my bag was fully open on the bed, he'd been in it. "You brought stuff for me too," he said almost sheepishly. Then he came over and pecked me on the cheek. "You are a silly girl the way you do things." But I'm not silly:)

We got a burger before the concert, it was terrible. The concert was fantastic. Couple of beers afterwards and we fucked back at the hotel after he'd asked me how my bottom was.

In the morning I was online and noticed the band were playing in Estonia in June, I told P we could go and see them there, it had been ages since we'd been to Tallinn. He said, "I thought you weren't all that keen on jazz." I told him I wasn't but these guys were different and, in any case, the accompaniments were good. He told me I'd probably like to see the Hot Sardines, it didn't mean a thing to me, I just thought as long as he brings his paint stirrer along..

Ronnie

xx

I'm boring

I could hardly believe the words I was hearing, and coming from my husband too. We were out to dinner, with son and partner and two friends and whilst the boys were rabbiting on about so called Internet of Things room thermostats which talk with their phones when they're driving home and Amazon's latest in-house talking diary, memo pad and spy, I was apparently steering the girls towards the weekend weather, health issues and holidays. I mean what's wrong with holidays? They beat Elon Musk's electric cars in my opinion.

Anyway I was cautioned. Not in public thank goodness for him. I would have exploded and given him a mouthful if he had done that. No it was after we'd finished the evening and were walking back to the car. I told him I talked about sane real things, women had to get washing done, one in the party has baby clothes to wash, one has a not deadly but annoying health concern, one couple are going for a Malta Spa break later this month (not us unfortunately), so stuff I bring up is just as relevant as boy talk. Anyway, traditional domestic roles are merging these days, I told him, so perhaps he's a bit old fashioned in his thinking and he shouldn't allow conversation to focus on that gadgetry and innovation, it was rude. I'd made my point.

When we got home P told me to go upstairs, he said I was right about him being a bit old fashioned, he was about to show me how old fashioned he was by giving me a damned good spanking. Not for being boring but for calling him old fashioned. He chivvied me into the bedroom and had me jeans-down over his lap, with him sat on the corner of the bed, and gave me exactly what he'd promised without me having chance to get a word in. It hurt too and as it was entirely unexpected I fought against him which was useless of course.

Towards the end of th spanking, with my backside stinging severely and his right leg holding me tightly in position, I gave up struggling and started to enjoy it and then it stopped. Bloody well stopped! "Is that it?" I asked saucily as I got up and rubbed my bottom through my knickers, "Now who's boring..." I shouldn't have said it, I know, but I got an immediate thrill when he grabbed my hand and pulled it away from my bottom, then the other one and told me to stand just there hands at my sides while he got up and went to his side of the bed and withdrew the Leatherthorn paddle from under the mattress.

"Oh no P, please, I was only joking, couldn't you just use your hand it was very hard I was nearly in tears?" I lied.

He just came back to the corner of the bed and pulled me across his lap, this time pulling my knickers down to my thighs. I gasped. "Not like that please!" I begged.

"Yes exactly like this, see if you still think I'm boring after I've paddle your bare bottom for five minutes." And with that his right leg resumed its restraining position across the backs of my knees and my walloping re-started. It was pointless resisting, P is strong and he had me secured firmly so instead I whimpered and whined and apologised and begged him to be lenient but of course he didn't stop until he was satisfied he'd taught me lesson.

"Was that boring?" He asked.

"No, P," I sniffled.

"Good." he said as he helped me up and said he was going downstairs to watch TV for half an hour with a glass of wine. "Pull your knickers and jeans up and put your face straight and join me. Shall I pour you a glass?"

"Yes please," I said sheepishly. I'd hoped he might have fucked me after that, I mean we hadn't really had an argument or anything. He didn't but I know my husband and half an hour cosying up to him on the sofa while we watched the last of Graham Norton or whatever would most likely ensure that I got his attention, the sort that often follows a good spanking. I was right and we didn't even get as far as the end of Graham Norton:)

Have a good week.

Ronnie

xx

I had to remind him

It had been a week since my husband had made a promise, or warning I suppose, as per below:-

"He got off the bed and told me the only way he could deal with what I'd just done was with another sound spanking and there would be no sex for me meanwhile." 

Well he'd kept half the promise but not the other half - no sex, no bloody sex... for a week! That bit he'd kept, although it transpired not intentionally. But the other half, the sound spanking bit, hadn't been delivered at all and I wasn't a happy bunny. I know he's got a few things on his mind but that's no excuse for not remembering threats. From a girl's point of view, when a man says things like that, which excite certain feeling in those of us who appreciate a firm hand and are not averse to sex, it is frustrating.

I brought it up with P on Saturday morning. He wasn't at the office because he was tree trimming and I though it would be a good time to remind him; he's usually more relaxed when he's doing physical things and I like seeing him work up a light sweat and get dirty. I took a couple of mugs of tea outside when I could see he'd almost finished, I stood next to him and could smell the sap and see leaves and bits of conifer sticking to his arms and neck. I told him I'd help him clearing up and he put his arm round my waist and told me I was a good girl. Ooh swoon. I almost spilled my tea as I pushed my body against him in response. Then I reminded him what a bad girl I'd been last week and asked him sheepishly if that was why we hadn't had any sex lately. He thought about it for a while and then it twigged. He said he'd soon remedy that, we'd get cleared up all the quicker with my help, then he'd get showered and then he'd deal with me. I said why bother with the shower, then I gulped the rest of my tea and turned away and started raking debris into neat piles, making sure I bent and stretched a lot (I must have had the most awkward raking technique!)

Anyway we got finished and P was putting the tools away in the shed. I went in and threw my gloves onto the bench, one of them fell down the back and I cursed but turned to walk out the door. P looked round, "Well somebody's got to pick it up," he said. I swivelled back and stretched over the bench, I could see the glove had landed on a compost bag the other side. Then I felt P's hands on my hips and froze, long enough for him to reach round and unzip me and wrench my jeans down to my thighs. I struggled a bit to make it harder for him and said "No P, not in here, please." I thought he was going to spank me but then he pulled my knickers aside and I felt his manhood between my cheeks against my bottom hole and then down against my slit. I wanted to turn round and rip the buttons off his shirt, taste the sweat and bits of foliage on him but he wouldn't let me, his cock was urgent, its slippery head pushed insistently and I opened and felt my own dew gush and then he was fucking me and I screamed and he put his hand around my mouth to keep the noise down. We stopped, panting, getting our breath back. "That's the sex sorted out then," said my dearest. "Now we just need to deal with the spanking."  He'd obviously remembered everything and decided to make good.

"Oh it's ok P the spanking can wait for another time, really." The order of events was not to my liking. "No time like the present," he said.

We keep garden canes in the shed and he selected one. I made to get up but he ordered me sharply to remain just where I was. I told him I needed a tissue, I'd got his stuff running off the gusset of my knickers, which had sprung half back where they belonged, and down my thighs. He said that wouldn't make any difference, he wasn't going to cane my thighs. Then he stood to my left and caned me. Oh my goodness doesn't the cane feel so much worse on the other side of orgasm. Luckily P knew it well enough and only intended it as a gesture to say he'd kept his promise. It still stung though but when he let me up I stretched up and kissed him; I didn't remind him that a 'sound' spanking had been threatened, didn't want to push my luck.

We showered together, he said it was to save water but I knew it wasn't, his cock was hard again. Tree cutting must be good for him:)

Have a fun weekend.

Ronnie

xx   

Too clever for my own good

I thought I was being clever, it was a last minute change of plan, spontaneous and with hindsight stupid. I mean it's going to get me spanked again, he's made that quite clear, so I suppose that's a bonus, sort of...except I fear it will be a rather painful one not the sort that causes my knickers to dampen as it approaches. Or maybe it will, who knows, another day.

You see I'd been taunting my husband good naturedly, it doesn't matter what about but it ended up me daring him to spank me. He told me I was a spanking addict, I didn't disagree and I told him I hadn't had the cane for quite a while, sticking my bottom out provocatively as I said it. Oh it's so easy to say and do that when the flames of the cane are memories and only the sexy bits stay in your mind but I often wonder if I would be so provocative immediately after a strict visit from that revered implement.

Anyway I'd set myself up for it and P decided he would give me a good caning if that was what I needed. I clearly did, in his opinion, the way I'd been carrying on, and he was going to give it me hard and with no sex after it, well not for me, not by way of getting fucked anyway... unless you count my face because he said he'd make me get down and take him in my mouth immediately after he'd caned me while my bottom was still outraged by the assault. He said he'd treat me like a slut, a spank slut, thrash me and then make me pleasure him. To squirm in ecstatic pain as I sucked his cock and swallowed like the little slut I was. I whimpered, I hoped it sounded like fear but suspect it came out like 'oh yes please, fucking do it don't just talk about it'.

Now there's no need to feel sorry for me, I'm a big girl and know what I'm doing, well most of the time, and I was drooling as P took me upstairs to deal with me like a spank slut. It was unceremonious, my trousers were taken down and I was made to lay over a pillow in the middle of the bed, I was allowed to retain my knickers, which were wet, although they didn't offer much protection. Then my husband caned me, he gave me exactly thirty strokes, fifteen from each side in groups of five, and I wailed and wriggled and stifled screams with another pillow as the tempo built towards the end. I'd lost my libido with the end pain but that often happens temporarily. I was nevertheless excited and craved further instructions. They came when P settled on the bed his groin level with my head and told me to undo his zipper and take his cock in my mouth. He said that was how he treated spank sluts and I better do a good job on his cock or he'd give me another dose. I opened his fly and his cock head, squeezing out precum, was in my mouth in no time as I licked and sucked and then...brainstorm....I decided to be clever. 

I decided to wait till he was about to explode and then take my mouth away, I thought it would be disobedient, naughty, evil, whatever, I had the devil in me. So that's what I did and my poor husband spurted his load part onto his shirt and part onto his belly. His grip on my shoulders was so strong it left (unintentionally) a bruise and the desperation in his voice was touching. I just said 'Oops'.

Poor P at first could hardly get over that I'd done such a thing, even though it wasn't the first time I'd been so naughty I certainly don't make a habit of it. Then he told me he was going to cane me again, then he changed his mind and said he wouldn't do it immediately, he'd make me wait and suffer. I was licking around the edges of the cum on his belly and asked him if I was a good girl belatedly and licked it all up, would he let me off. I thought I might get him hard again but it didn't happen. He got off the bed and told me the only way he could deal with what I'd just done was with another sound spanking and there would be no sex for me meanwhile. 

Later in the evening when I was sitting next to him, I apologised and asked if he was still angry with me. He put his hand on my leg and told me he hadn't been angry, dumbfounded was more like it. I wished his hand would move further up my leg but it didn't, he knew I wanted it to though, he can read me like a book. I asked him if he was really going to spank me again and when. He said it would be the next day or maybe the day after and it wouldn't be a spanking it would be the cane. I said that wasn't fair, he'd actually said sound spanking when we were upstairs. He said my little trick hadn't been fair, had it. I just muttered no and nuzzled up to him.

So que sera.

Have a good week.

Ronnie

xx         

Nalgadas Cumpleanos

One from my Archive...

"Really? Oh goody," I said. I love it when my husband talks dirty, well I hoped it was dirty, I understand bits of Spanish myself but not that phrase. I was sitting on our terrace sipping orange juice and feeling generally happy with the world as P joined me with a mug of coffee. It was still hot, around 28 degrees, past the hottest point of the day but still enough to keep your pores open. I don't know why it is but even after the lovely summer we’d had in the UK, the Spanish sun always seems hotter, even when the thermostats say the same, and it definitely lasts longer into the evening. Even through the night it didn't seem to drop much.

My husband had been swimming, in the sea which he loves, and we'd both walked along the beautiful uncluttered end of the beach holding hands while the sun dried him off. He'd started to bronze from the day we arrived; he doesn't even have to work at it, he has that type of skin which tans easily and safely, disgusting to those of us who can’t be without a bottle of factor 30. He hadn't showered and I could see the sea salt on his lightly sweating skin. I also noticed his swim shorts appeared to be housing a not ungenerous erection.

I shuffled my chair closer to his. "Say some more Spanish," I said.

"You haven't responded to the last bit yet," said my husband.

"Oh yes I have, put your hand between my legs and feel." My bikini pants were damp. P didn't go there, he just rested a hand on my thigh and sipped his coffee, then he asked me if I knew what he'd said and of course I didn't and told him so.

"I said birthday spanking, I was wondering whether to give it you now or wait till later, what do you think?" He's never asked me this sort of question before, I was quite taken aback, it was almost like a business discussion yet sexy in its matter of fact way. His hand remained static on my thigh but his fingers had started lightly stroking.

I said I'd leave it to him to decide and then I asked him if he could spank me in Spanish which made him laugh, then he said something else in Spanish and I caught 'girl' but not the rest of it. He asked me in English if I meant like a Spanish man would spank or just using Spanish words. He said it made quite a difference as Spanish men are known to spank their women very hard. Oh Christ, I definitely felt my bikini pants further dampen and I put my hand on his and whimpered that I thought being as we were in Spain....I didn't need to finish the sentence, my husband reads me very well and said he'd be delighted to spank me in Spanish. But before he did, and to make sure I got the most out of the experience, he was going to fuck me and his hand moved between my legs as he said “then you'll really feel the spanking afterwards won't you, you naughty girl?... And that's how it should be, isn't it?” My body language gave him his answer.

He told me to get up and led me further back onto the terrace under cover of the naya which shaded the sun, and to the solid wooden table which facilitated al fresco dining. He grabbed a couple of padded terrace chair cushions and laid them on the table before bending me over it. I told him he couldn't we'd be seen, but he said he could and he'd already checked lines of vision and we wouldn't be seen. Then I said someone could call but he proceeded to take my bikini pants down and said he'd locked the driveway gate so no one could disturb us. Then I said we'd be heard but his cock was already nuzzling into the wetness of my slit at that point and I knew he wasn't going to stop and I didn't want him to and I just said, “Do it then, do it, fuck me...ooh... god yes...yes...do it...urgh... harder!” And words and sounds to that effect as my husband pummelled me while I lay straddled across the table wiggling and pumping and making what I'm sure must have been the basest noises our lovely little hillside community had been subjected to for a long time. When we were done I was pouring sweat and so was P and all we could hear was the gentle gurgle of the pool pump and a few lazily buzzing insects. I thought all the other villas around us must have stopped everything just to eavesdrop.

P straightened up and told me it was time for my spanking, which would be inside. I felt him withdraw and his cum trickle down the inside of my leg, I told him he was dripping onto the tiles and I needed to get something to wipe them and I needed a shower and I didn't need a spanking and did he want another cup of coffee, I'd make one....but he wasn't to be sidetracked.

He took me by the arm and led me inside, fastening the door behind us, my bikini pants remained on the terrace tiles where they'd fallen during our lovemaking, he said I could do all the clearing up I wanted later, and make him a coffee and have a shower too, in fact he'd join me for one (there was a nice wet room in the en suite) but right now I was getting a birthday spanking. A Spanish birthday spanking, he added with a smile.

It was very warm inside especially with the door shut. P led me into a bedroom and closed the window, I said we needed the air con on but he said no it was just right he didn't want me cooling down and, anyway, in a few minutes I'd have quite a different kind of heat to contend with. Then he sat on the bed, pulled me across his lap and started spanking my bare bottom, it sounded really loud, I think the Mediterranean decor, with fewer soft furnishings and carpets that we have in the UK, amplifies the sound. Anyway I told P it would be heard but he said we'd already been heard and all anyone could hear now was loud sharp claps and they wouldn't know what they were, unless I started crying out of course.

I pulled a pillow over and stuffed the corner into my mouth; I didn't want our temporary neighbours knowing what I was getting. P spanked me for about fifteen minutes and hardly slowed down except when he alternated hands and once when he clamped his right leg across mine to keep me still. I cried out alright but it all went into the pillow. I struggled too and that made me hotter still and my poor backside was almost numb when he finally stopped. Spankings after sex are definitely more painful and I really hadn't wanted it to happen at all although I'll admit that when he eventually stopped and I was able to relax and let go the pillow, and I felt his hand resting across my sit spots, I felt another round of warmth starting between my legs. If I'd been encouraged I would certainly have responded but that didn't happen.

Instead P stood me up and told me it was shower time. He opened a few windows and reopened the door making sure the security grill was locked, the immediate breeze was lovely and I felt the sweat cool on my body causing goose bumps. P kissed me on the neck and escorted me into the shower, he soaped me all over and I did likewise to him and joked that his penis must like the Spanish heat because it seemed hard again. He said it wasn't the Spanish heat that was causing it, it was the Spanish spanking he'd just administered and he was planning on plenty more. I said could I please have some before sex not after, he just laughed and said I seemed horny enough either way.

We went out later into the local village where a fiesta was in progress, my bum was still surprisingly sore after just a hand spanking, I liked the feeling and I liked holding hands with my husband as we mingled with the locals. I couldn't help noticing some of the senoritas, they're very attractive and hold themselves proudly, I thought about what P had said earlier about Spanish men spanking hard, I thought that must be the reason, or part of it, as I straightened up and smiled.

Ronnie

xx

A Wet Spanking

I'm going through a slight spanking drought at the moment. Can't be helped as P's been busy and we've both been spending some time at our son's new house doing a few jobs while they've been at work and also over the weekend. The house is new to our son but not new build and there are a few issues to sort out.

So what's a girl to do when she hasn't a spanking to report? Well as I'm in holiday mode I've dug into my archives and found one, it's appropriate too as it was in Portugal and that's where I'm going. In fact, re-reading it, I wouldn't mind a repeat.......

We were holidaying on Portugal's Silver Coast and it was hot, we'd rented a villa but been on the beach all morning. A bit of swimming, reading, sunning and people watching, interspersed with idle banter. Both of us noted that no-one, including me, was bathing topless. I said I thought it was because that part of Portugal was still quite parochial and the girls were modest, and gorgeous as it happened, enviably so. But P had his own views; he said it was more likely because the menfolk in these parts spanked them if they exposed themselves. I smiled, I knew he was joking but he set my mind into thinking about testing his theory later.

So you can maybe already guess how things might unravel back at the villa later that afternoon, or maybe you can’t, I’m going to elaborate anyway. They unravelled with me taking a dip, me casting off my bikini top, him warning me there were neighbours about and me shrugging and saying I couldn't see any. They continued with him going to fetch some cold drinks and the camera and me tossing my bikini pants up to him as soon as he settled on his sun lounger, which made him jump as you can imagine cold water on hot skin would. Him coming to the side of the pool and calling me over, me taking another idle length first making sure to flaunt my bum. Me listening and smirking insolently while he told me he expected more modest behaviour and I'd better put my pants back on at least and throwing them into the water, and me ignoring them as they floated, telling him not to be such a prude.

Nonchalantly turning away from him was the straw that broke the camel’s back. It was followed by him making a big splash as he landed in the water right beside me and me feigning a wince as he grabbed my arm. Then guided me up the steps and marched me across the hot tiles to the villa.

''OK I'll put them on'' I said, ''No you won't, not until I've finished with you that is, and then you'll be only too willing to go and fetch them out of the water and put them on double quick,'' he said.

Ooooooooooooooh...I love it when he talks like that...I was going to get a good spanking.  It was hot inside but he shut the door and locked it, no disturbances. Then through the kitchen to the lounge, nice leather sofa with big soft arms, I was sure we were heading there but no, he led me across the lounge leaving a trail of water and into the downstairs bedroom.

''No I'll soak the bed!'' I said, but P wasn’t at all concerned.

''It'll be dry in no time in this heat,'' he said as he sat on the edge and pulled me down so I was half across his left knee and half on the bed.

''But I'm soaking wet'' I protested.

''Exactly how I want you,'' said he as he brought his hand down quite forcefully on my right cheek followed quickly by a volley of alternating slaps which got me starting to get quite wriggly until his hand must have tired or got bored and he paused to change from left hand holding with right hand spanking to the opposite. Different angle, different feel... different hand, different feel. Hands have characters of their own you know, my husband’s left often seems harder than his right although that could be because I'm already stinging by the time he switches to his left.

Anyway his left hand took charge of a spanking resumption and increase in wriggling and much 'Oh-nooooing' and pleeeaase-no-moreing' from me. When his strong right leg crossed over my two legs a few minutes later and secured my lower body firmly, there was no more wriggling and his right hand returned to the fray. I love and hate when I can’t wriggle any more; the subjugation is uncompromising and powerful, the pain accentuated.

''I told you to put your bikini pants back on but you defied me, didn't you?'' It didn’t need an answer. Gosh but this was hurting.

''And you turned your back on me when I was talking which was very rude.'' Rude moi?

“Ouch! Owww...OWWW!”

''Well I'm going to teach you a lesson”...spank spank... ''and I'll expect better behaviour from you”..,SPANK SPANK...“for the rest of the week!”

 My! It was really getting to me, wet is HOT and very OUCH and I was getting very noisy. We were going out to dinner later, I reminded him, and I wouldn’t be able to sit down if he carried on much more.

''It'll serve you right for being cheeky. Anyway I like seeing you shuffling around on the seat it's cute.'' Oh right, that's okay then, I thought.

He eventually stopped. Phew! We were both covered in sweat, he patted my bum and told me to clamber up onto the bed while he went over to the windows; there was one on each of two adjacent walls and between them they allowed a through draft. As he opened the second one he was directly behind me, I looked ahead into the full length wardrobe mirror and saw his reflection as he clipped the window fully open causing an immediate and heavenly waft of cool air.

I watched his reflection taking his shorts down as he looked out the window, nice bum still in trim. Then his reflection turned round. P tans easily, as I’ve said, and he looked dark and  muscular against the window light and I almost squealed with delight when I noticed his manhood standing fully erect. Oh my! In this world or another I must have done something very right, I thought, and in a couple of strides he was at the bed and I’d raised my bum invitingly to greet it. I was slick with lust and he penetrated me easily and quickly, and I clenched greedily in time with his thrusts. His hands grabbed my hips more for effect than need, then he gave my right cheek a couple of sharp slaps and said something deep throaty in Spanish being as he doesn't speak Portuguese, I don't know what it was but it tipped me over the edge and I started coming and how! I know I squirted and I know he felt it and that triggered him and I felt him grow urgent and those lovely hard thrusts as he emptied himself into me with a roar. I screamed, put my hand to my mouth and fell onto the bed, P still pulsing inside me and making no attempt to quell the guttural expressions which emitted in bursts from his lips as his spasms decreased.

''The neighbours...Sshhh!'' I said.

''Neighbours? Don't worry about the neighbours'' he laughed as he collapsed with me, two panting sweating entwined bodies exhausted and fulfilled. So, I smiled as I wallowed in post orgasmic heaven, the neighbours matter when I'm skinny dipping but not when P is rogering me. How unfair is that, I thought, as I let myself doze.

It was early evening when we woke, P had dozed too, the air was still warm. We showered and walked into town, strolled along the beachfront relaxed and leisurely, and ended up in a nice family run fish restaurant where we had local smoked swordfish and rosada grilled over charcoal. I made a point of asking one of the waitresses if I could have a cushion from one of the terrace seats as the wicker chairs were a bit hard. Actually it wasn't hurting as much by that time as I’d thought it might but I know P likes to think he's done a thorough job so I thought I’d humour him.

Later we moved on to the town square, surrounded by little bars, where they had some live fado music playing. I watched the local girls going about their work carrying food and trays of drinks to the tables, all bronzed all trim, all happy looking, and I thought about what P had said earlier about how men living in these parts treated their women. If it was true, which I doubted, I'd have had to say I was with them all the way.

Ronnie
xx

Stop whingeing about brexit

Well a few weeks have passed since the Brexit vote and I hope some of those who voted for it have had time to count the costs, at least in the short term. I certainly have and one immediate impact on my little business is the exchange rate, which means the next order I take from our Spanish supplier, which will be in August, will be 14% more expensive than the last one. What do I do, raise my selling prices? I asked my husband. He said no, grin and bear it for a while. Well I won't be grinning.

Another impact is on our next holiday ... now we don't book holidays in advance, never have done, business has always dictated when we can take breaks, but it is obvious that our next week in the sun is going to be a lot more expensive than our last one. Flights, accommodation and currency are all higher. I threw some ideas at P on the weekend and he said it sounded expensive, find cheaper. I told him I could if he wanted to wait and take a November break in the UK. I won't tell you what his response was. The only good thing, unusually for me, is I bought too much cash currency in euros earlier this year and still have most of it tucked away in my dresser, I haven't told him that but it's probably as much as we would normally spend cash-wise during a week in the Med so that will cushion the cost and no doubt bring a smile to P's face when I reveal it. I'm saving it as a tactical tool to help swing him when we get to decision time.

Meanwhile I'm pretty grumpy about brexit. Our son's new house, which was negotiated pre brexit but won't complete till next month, has apparently dropped several percent, his mortgage deal is locked at what seemed a good rate but who knows what's ahead, the cost of everything imported into the country has obviously increased and has to reflect in sale prices soon as far as I'm concerned.

P had been stoic up to this weekend, listening to my moans and groans tolerantly and agreeing but also pointing out it might only be relatively short term and to give it a break. Easy for him to say but he's not the one charged with getting a holiday lined up early September with no brexit surcharge. Anyway yesterday morning I asked him about mobile roaming charges, car hire and a few other things including whether he'd accept a shared pool, to which he unfortunately said yes no problem, which set me back because I was only using it as another tactic but it backfired on me because actually I'm the one who doesn't like pool sharing because I'm embarrassed not being a good swimmer. Shit.

After a while P put his newspaper aside and told me he'd heard enough whingeing about the effects of brexit, no point getting stressed over it, find solutions and think positively he said. I looked over my glasses, "Oh excellent advice, P, thank you," I said sarcastically, "perhaps you'd care to lead the way." 

He did. He took me by the hand, upstairs to our little office and spanked me. He didn't take my jogging pants off (I hadn't been jogging, I'd been hula-hooping in the garden earlier), he just put me across his knees, pulled our bogey paddle from under the futon and spanked me for about ten minutes, consistently hard with just a few pauses to reaffirm his warning to stop whingeing and getting stressed over something we couldn't do anything about and to concentrate on things we could do something about. After each little pause he asked me if I understood, agreed etc and made me answer, in the affirmative needless to say, before resuming. I asked him to let me up please, I'd got the message, but he wouldn't because, he said, he knew me and he knew the message wouldn't last five minutes if he didn't deliver it properly. So I got quite a spanking and my jogging pants offered no protection at all, if anything they served only to help retain the heat in my backside after I was let up.

There's something about non sexual spankings that's so sexy it's ridiculous. I know I was red faced when I stood up, I could feel my cheeks burning. I hadn't been unclothed, I hadn't felt my husband's cock against my thigh, I hadn't felt myself dampening, I'd just been plainly spanked and hard too. I felt so embarrassed as my husband's eyes sought mine, looking to see if there was any challenge in them. There wasn't.

"Call it stress relief," he said. "Now go downstairs and let's have no more moaning." I turned to leave the office and he spoke again.

"If it's any help," he said, "I've got a load of euros I didn't use last time Stefan came over, I don't need them for anything so you could put them into the holiday calculations, I was going to tell you later, they're in my travel bag, help yourself. Oh and I'll have a mug of tea please, when you're making one."

Well the sneaky devil, hoarding euros, he's as bad as me. I smiled as I went downstairs. Needn't tell him about mine then, I'll reserve them for another time:)

Have a good week.

Ronnie

xx

What a shocker

So the UK is out of the EU and in not-so-splendid isolation. Wrong in my view, I believe we should have stayed in but with better leaders to fight for making it a better place. Well maybe that will happen as a result of our leaving and hopefully we will maintain a strong relationship with an EU under reform because some other member states have reservations about the way Brusssels operates. Angela Merkel knows it, she's a good leader and must know there is a serious risk of a break-up if she does not make changes.

Anyway enough of the politics, the good news is that I got spanked over it. Not because it happened and not because of my view on it, because P is of the same opinion and I express my own views anyway, but because I sounded off a bit about it on Friday and again on Saturday. And I did it in a higgledy piggledy manner according to my husband, shooting in all directions which made it difficult to respond to so he kept mostly quiet with just a nod of the head and a Hmm yes or an absolutely here and there. I asked him why he didn't have much to say on it and he said there was no need I was doing all the saying. I said he should have paid more attention, he should have listened to me on Thursday when I told him we should buy some currency, not because I anticipated what would happen overnight but just because it was better value than it had been for ages and we do use it.

On Saturday he asked me (asked) if I had half an hour to spare and if so could I come with him to the office. I told him yes and followed him upstairs. Spankings don't start like this, I thought he might have something to show me. He asked me to take off my jeans while he closed the window and reached up onto the top shelf of the bookcase where he keeps implements. I asked him what was going on, what was this all about. He asked me if I trusted him, I said yes, he said well do as I ask please. He was still searching with his fingers, then he found what he wanted and turned round to face me with a Coco de Mer wooden ruler in his hand. My jeans were off by that time. My eyes widened.

"I'd like you to across my knee now and I'm going to spank you, and while I'm doing it I'm going to tell you why and you'll most likely agree with everything I say because it's true. It will hurt but you will remember it."

"What the fuck is this all about I haven't done anything?"

"Oh but you have. I'll ask you again, do you trust me.. and if you do will you get across my lap. If not you can put your jeans back on."

I got across my husband's lap, well what else would you do when you've been with someone for thirty odd years and they put it that way? P gave me a dozen whacks with the ruler, they were sharp, then he stopped and started telling me how impressed he'd been with the points I'd been making since the referendum outcome...another dozen whacks...and how passionately I'd made them...another dozen. And he knew exactly what I meant and why I was saying them and he agreed with me. A couple of dozen whacks followed.

"But if you'd just slow down and make your points one at a time, I'd answer and discuss. And if you put them in a logical order it would help."

Several whacks of the ruler this time, harder. I started to speak.

"No need to say anything, in fact it's better if you don't," said P as he spanked away with the ruler. I shut up. "You've been doing more than enough talking lately. I like you to voice your opinions, they are good and I agree with them and even when I don't I still like you to voice them. But please if you want me to join in make them calmly and leave some breathing space instead of ranting."

I liked what I was hearing. My husband was both approving and disapproving, but above all he liked me voicing my opinions and he wanted to engage. I felt yummy as he spanked my backside to sting level 7, I really wanted to speak back but restrained myself. The spanking continued alongside the lecture, I thought with a smile how ridiculous to be spanked for doing something your spanker agrees with, then I thought maybe it wasn't so stupid, it was at least keeping me quiet and had my full attention. Finally, P told me one thing he really didn't appreciate was the smartass way I'd said about the currency, I'd been right as it happened but it was just fluke nothing more. The spanking increased to sting level 8 or 9, more or less as far as that ruler could go. Serious heat was radiating through my nether region. I was also starting to get 'feelings.'

When it stopped I lay there. I told him I was sorry if I'd sounded smug about the currency. His hand rested on my backside. I said he was right about my ranting a bit but I did genuinely feel strongly about it. He said he knew, and his hand started caressing my burning cheeks as he reaffirmed he liked hearing my views and I should express them more. I said thanks and asked him if I could express a view right there while I was over his lap. He said of course go ahead.

"I think you should fuck me immediately, any way you like, now and hard. Over to you." Well, he had said I should make clear points and give him chance to engage.

He lifted me up off his lap and took me into the bedroom.

Have a good week.

Ronnie

xx

Sent to bed with a sore bottom

Does anybody else ever think they'd like to be spanked right before bed time and then sent to bed or am I the only one with such aspirations? I don't think I could be the only one, the thought seems too delicious to be wasted on just me. Well Saturday night I got exactly that. It wasn't stage managed, no manipulation, just plain and simple. And it was shocking and absolutely lovely and I even woke up Sunday morning with it on my mind, the only disappointment being P's side of the bed was empty as he'd gone to the paper shop and I would dearly have loved to snuggle under the duvet and suck him off.

We'd had guests for dinner and I'd been smart-mouthing apparently (I'd call it entertainingly witty). Prior them arriving and P spending time in the kitchen, we'd enjoyed a little impromptu amorous hanky panky after doing a bit of work in the garden which had involved bending and stretching with me in an old pair of shorts which, my husband had pointed out, were looking a bit tight. He said I should wear them more often, I said I would but only for him, not to go out in as they were old fashioned. Needless to say I bent and stretched twice as much after he'd mentioned them and we both felt like it when we went inside. There was no fucking but we both came, P via one of those ruined orgasm thingies which I learned about months ago and me via his tongue. I'm not very good at gauging ruined orgasms but occasionally, when the circumstances are right, I cause one to happen. P had told me when I first learned about them and did one on him that it was alright occasionally as long as it was part of a package and he got the real thing later:)

Anyway I don't want to bore you with our sexual peccadilloes, the bottom line was that I was sated and he was not, his cock was still bulging outrageously after he'd emptied and remained that way while he was working in the kitchen. Whenever I went in he said something suggestive or touched me, all very good-naturedly, and I parried him off with tut-tuts, naughty boy etc. Then he told me I wasn't much fun after I'd orgasmed, I became Miss Boring instead of Miss Horny, he said. I told him it was his fault he shouldn't have spilled his little load too soon, like an impatient teenager, and he shouldn't be so efficient with his tongue. All this was friendly banter and I promised him I wouldn't be boring for the rest of the day and I made a point of being lively.

After our friends had gone we sat down for a final glass of wine, it was late, I was still being 'witty' and made a couple of comments about the lovely food we'd had and how well he cooked with a hard-on and he should do it more often, I was just teasing, making it known that I hadn't forgotten he'd been left wanting, as it were. Then I smiled, got up and said it was bedtime for me and I hoped I hadn't been a boring girl and bent down to kiss him on the forehead. That was when he took me by the arm and marched me upstairs and spanked me on our bed. Short but hard, with my skirt up and my knickers down. Then told me to go to bed and not to be so smart mouthed in future. He didn't give me chance to say anything, just ordered me and went back downstairs.

He's never done that before, we're usually both too tired to play late at night except when we're on holiday. I must admit it thrilled me and I did my bits and bobs and got into bed feeling yummy and intending to stay awake till he came up to bed so that I could cuddle up and rub by throbbing bottom against him and whimper that I was sorry. But I fell asleep and next thing I knew was waking up in the morning with a strong urge to finish what I'd started the day before. I could get a liking for bedtime spankings, but only if they 'happen', not by arrangement.

Please join me and take a moment to send loving thoughts to all the people effected by the tragedy in Orlando. My heart goes out to them.

Have a good week.

Ronnie

xx