Sunday Morning Spanking And Anal
Monday, September 12th, 2011 -- by Bacchus
There’s less of this good old-fashioned sex blogging going around than there used to be. This tale of a lazy Sunday morning comes from At A Kinky House:
On Sunday morning, we both knew we ought to get up and be busy. We both had things that we thought we ought to do. Instead, we cuddled. He touched me until I was sucking on the sheet trying not to scream and brought me to orgasm repeatedly. As I often do when I am in the throes of pleasure and he’s not, I cast about anxiously, trying to think of something I could do to bring him to the point of bliss I was approaching. And then I hit upon one of his favorite fantasies.
I asked him to fuck my ass in the shower.
To my everlasting shock, he said he’d do it. With soap as the lube, as we had no modern option with us. And then he sent me to the closet for a wire coat hanger.
Now, the day before I had brought upstairs an entire selection of hangers that were unused in a downstairs closet. I was sure there would not be any old wire ones remaining. But I faithfully trotted across to the closet to look and was ecstatically relieved (and right). There were no wire hangers. The closest thing I could find was a heavy metal one I was sure would be inappropriate.
Not only did he think it was a reasonable substitute, he stuffed a pair of red panties in my mouth, bent me over and began whacking me with it. The thing was, to be honest, evil. Even with my soaked panties on, I could feel how deep it impacted my tush and I was sure he was leaving bruises.
He didn’t seem to care about my distress, but when my whimpers became a little louder than was perhaps wise, he stopped and sent me off to the shower.
Not long after, my forehead against the tile and my body bent forward enough that my breasts swung freely, he soaped up his cock with a bar of old-fashioned Ivory and pressed it against me. Against my anus, that is. I whimpered loudly as he fucked me, but between the shower, the bathroom fan and the air conditioning, I doubt the noise I made went much past the shower stall.
That’s one bar of Ivory soap that will never again be 99 and 44/100s percent pure…
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