The Spanking

Copyright © 2006 by licapeba. All rights reserved. This work may not be reproduced anywhere in any form without written permission from the author.

*

SMACK!

"Ow!" my wife said, "That really hurt! Don't you ever do that again!"

She was really angry, and she didn't get angry often. We were standing in our bedroom, naked together, and had been cuddling and cooing for a few minutes when I gave her one smack with my hand on her soft, round bum. I hadn't intended it to really hurt her, just to sting for a moment, an experiment to see if it would enliven her senses and our lovemaking.

I had not hit even nearly as hard as I could have, but it obviously was too much and I instantly felt like a jerk. I agreed never to do it again, loved her gently until she forgave me, and that was the end of spanking in our marriage.

Except that it wasn't.

I always had the spanking kink. It wasn't that I wanted to hurt my wife, or any woman. Unlike a lot of spankers I'd read about, I didn't relish the thought of punishing, or humiliating, of flesh turning red or worse, of cries of pain. The idea of using anything other than my hand to spank was a big turn-off. When I had been brought several times to the point of spanking my daughters for punishment, it wasn't just their youth that had made it not-fun; it was almost as unpleasant an experience for me as it was for them.

No, mine was a deeply-ingrained passion for women's bottoms, a primally-programmed sensual delight in the full, soft forms, the gentle curves, the wonderful cleft hiding secret places, the inimitable sensuality of the rolling curving motion of it all. The thought of bending my wife's soft body over my lap -- preferably with both of us naked -- and gently paddling her bum with my hand and watching and feeling her move and squirm playfully was never far from the top of my fantasy list.

But she didn't share my interest in sensual spanking. In fact she seemed embarrassed about any interest in her bum, often turning it away when I lingered there too long and leaving little hope for extended play there. I had just closed the door firmly on spanking play with my goonish experiment.

Years passed after that incident, but my interest didn't wane a bit.

From time to time my wife would playfully refuse to do something I asked, and I would threaten her with a spanking. On occasion I would deliver a gentle slap or two to her bum while she was standing up, fully dressed, and she would squirm her soft bum away or smack me back. On a couple of occasions, I pulled her over my knee, again fully dressed, and slapped her lightly a few times. It was very nice, playful and loving and sensual, but not quite up to my fantasies.

Then, in the space of a year or so, our marriage began to get rocky. We had moved to a new house. Our teenagers, actively resenting our move away from their friends, were being teenagers in all the worst ways. The consultancy practice we shared got over-busy. Stress piled on stress. My wife's part of the work just piled up on her as she tried to do it all herself. Late nights working started to become routine for her. Her life seemed to be divided between her work and our children, a pie that didn't leave much of a slice for me. Our relationship suffered, we started to drift apart.

After several discussions about the growing problem, we agreed that in addition to better work organization we needed a firm rule: we would go to bed together, early enough to enjoy it, at least every second night, regardless of other pressures, and just talk, or talk and make love, or whatever... we would connect with each other.

For a few weeks we did, and it was wonderful, loving, intimate, often orgasmic. On the nights that we didn't have sex, we were still very intimate. We cuddled and talked as we had not done for a long time. It quickly brought us back together, we felt connected again.

Then my wife made an excuse one night, she just had to finish some work, couldn't come to bed. Soon another night, another excuse, a few days later, a series of excuses and more missed opportunities. In the space of a couple of months, the lapses became routine. From our every-other-night agreement, we soon fell back to going to bed together about once per week, sometimes even less. She apologized often, with deep sincerity, and tried to make up for it by being somewhat more attentive during our very busy days, but I could feel us already drifting apart again.

One night, when she had again made an excuse, I went to bed very angry. They say you shouldn't, and "they" are almost certainly correct, but I was again alone, again depressed about our crumbling relationship, again disappointed by her disorganization and disregard and, yes, again sexually frustrated. I tossed and turned for over an hour, thinking of all our stresses, feeling with crushing dread that we were coming to the end, contemplating separation and divorce, before I finally fell into a fitful sleep. I dreamed that my wife was calling after me as I walked away from her, calling my name again and again.

I awoke hazy, groggy, to find her standing beside the bed, calling softly to me. "What is it?" I asked as I struggled up on an elbow, straining to see her through my sleepy eyes and the near-dark of our room. She was dressed, standing a couple of feet away, peering down at me.

"I'm really, really sorry." she said. "I haven't been able to work for the past hour. I finally started really thinking about us, about how much I love you, about how I have been putting so many other things ahead of you and our relationship. I feel really stupid. I've been really stupid, and bad, and I haven't listened to you."

"OK, my love," I said with effort. I already had a lump in my throat as the emotional roller coaster we had been riding roared up under me once again. "Thank you. I've been starting to really worry about us, about how to keep us going."

"I know," she said, "me too. You were right, we have to make the commitment, and I've been bad about that. I have an idea I think you'll like, to get us started on the right track. I've been a bad girl. I think I need a spanking. "

Well that woke me up!

"Really?" I struggled up, peered at her again. It was then that I noticed that she wasn't completely dressed as I had thought. Her jeans and soft white panties were rumpled together in a beautiful mess just above her knees. Her blue cotton shirt hung down as her only protection, its tails barely covering her smooth pussy and the soft, round bum I knew were beneath it. She was holding her hands together behind her back, near her bum, which pushed her breasts up against the shirt. I was pretty sure, even in the dusk of our room, that she wasn't wearing a bra, very unusual for her. I was naked under the sheet, and my cock understood what she was doing at the same instant I did, stiffening quickly to attention.

"You know I don't want to hurt you," I said.

"I know. I would hate it if you hurt me. But I know you've wanted to do this for a long time. I want to give you something special to show you how much I love you."

"Oh, my love!" I swung my legs down to the floor and sat up on the side of the bed. Taking her hands from behind her back I pulled her gently towards me. She shuffled forward, pants still around her knees, until the smooth skin of her thighs brushed softly, warmly, inside my own.

I ran my hands down the backs of her legs to the still-warm panties puddled at her knees, and then gently danced my fingers back up, delicately tracing inside her baby-soft thighs. After floating my barely-touching palms over the delicious curves of her bum, and gliding fingertips lightly into the deep cleft hiding her intimate treasures, I cupped her smooth globes firmly and pulled her to me. As I rested my head against her stomach and the warm pillows of her breasts under her shirt, she stroked my hair. I sighed deeply. "How could I ever think of leaving you?!"

We stayed like that for minutes, not speaking, just holding and softly caressing.

Finally I leaned back a little and, watching her face in the dusk of our room, undid the lowest button on her shirt. She rested her hands on my shoulders and looked back at me, loving but apprehensive. I undid another button, and leaned in to kiss the warm, flat stomach and belly button that I had exposed. Another button, more kisses, just beneath each of her breasts. Another button, and each breast got several kisses, long, lingering, soft, and a few very soft flicks with my tongue on their now-stiff nipples. She sighed deeply.

"Let this be a lesson to you, young lady," I said.

She smiled softly at my silly joke, wrapped her arms around my head, drawing me tight to her warmth, and held me silently for a moment. "I am so sorry," she said. "I really deserve to be punished, thank you for loving me."

"Shhhh. It's OK, you're here now." I undid the last button near the top of her shirt and reached up to push it off her shoulders. As she straightened her arms and moved them back to let it puddle onto the floor, her breasts rose invitingly again and I suckled very gently on each of the stiff, crinkled nipples for a moment. Then, leaning down to slowly inch her jeans and panties the rest of the way off her smooth legs, I kissed lightly around her hip and flat stomach and at the tiny patch of neatly-trimmed hair above her sweet treasure. When she lifted a leg to step out of her jeans, her clean feminine fragrance wafted in humid warmth over my face as my hands returned to spread over the full curves of her soft bum and pull her to me. Again, I just held her for a moment or two, savouring her warm body, her succulent bum in my hands, her tender gift of my fantasy.

Pulling back, I closed my legs and guided her to lay over them. She moved without hesitation or complaint. The warm softness of her hip brushed against my stomach as she settled, and the warm softness of her lower stomach brushed my already-stiff cock before settling down on it, pressing it down so that it strained against her stomach. These sensations were very powerful, very erotic, but the sense of sight quickly took centre stage as her spectacular bum was raised over my lap. My fantasies had not been rich enough in imagining this moment. Even in the near-darkness of our room the sensuous curves, though flattened a little, were somehow even more exciting as they rose above her long, delicate back. They peaked in a deliciously soft and inviting hump over my legs, and rushed down her smooth thighs. The deep cleft between her soft, full cheeks opened and closed as she worked herself into position. When I nudged her legs open a little, the sensuous crevice opened a little more, more than I was accustomed to seeing, making its treasures still secret but even more enticing than usual.

My first urge was not to spank, but to touch.

For minutes, I ran lightly-touching fingers and hands over every inch of the smooth softness she was giving me, down her back, up her side, over her soft cheeks, into the smooth, warm crevice, down to lightly brush her pussy lips, further down between her thighs, over the backs of her knees, and back up again. From time to time I lightly dragged fingernails instead, and each time heard the quiet moan I hoped for; she always loved that.

I ran one hand down her back, and the other down her thighs, and tickled lightly as I leaned down to kiss over her bum and into its secret darkness. She suddenly squirmed a little, and inadvertently squeezed her soft bum cheeks against my nose and lips -- oh, wow! I was pretty sure that she had squirmed in embarrassment at the attention I was giving her bum, but hoped that she understood what a high-pitched thrill it was giving me. My cock, stiffened painfully rock-hard as it was against her stomach and hip, must have given her some indication because she uncharacteristically let me continue for moments longer.

Finally I dragged my fingers lightly back up her thighs and back, held my hands in the air, not touching her, for a long ten seconds, and then landed a first light smack right in the middle of her bum. It rippled slightly, but there was no other movement and no sound from my wife. I rubbed lightly for a moment, and then smacked again, a little harder, on one cheek. Again, a rewarding ripple through the soft cheek, and this time her bum clenched, the cleft squeezed a bit, and then everything softened again as she relaxed while I softly rubbed out the little sting. Another smack on the other cheek, more of the intoxicating motion in her gentle curves, and this time I noticed her stomach shifting subtly over the top of my stiff cock. Whooo boy, way better than my fantasies!

Just as I was raising my hand for another slap she grunted, and shifted awkwardly in my lap.

"Too hard?" I asked, dreading the answer because I was barely more than patting her, and I was certainly enjoying myself.

"No, it's OK, it doesn't hurt much. You can keep going. It's just humiliating. It's also very awkward and uncomfortable like this... I'm starting to wonder if I'm really THIS sorry!" She gave a little laugh and shifted again, trying to put some weight on her delicate arms reaching to the floor.

This wouldn't last long if I didn't do something. I leaned over, kissed her bum, and then patted it gently. "OK, stand up."

She quickly complied, unfolding herself from my lap. My cock sprang up in relief as her stomach was lifted from it, suddenly brushed with cool, and it bounced a couple of times as I watched her lithe form straighten and stretch in front of my knees. Whoo boy, she was beautiful!

I turned slightly on the edge of the bed, stretched one of my legs out along the edge while leaving the other foot resting on the floor, and cupped her bum with one hand to pull her, with feigned roughness, to lie over my leg and onto the bed.

She flopped onto the bed, her hips curving over my leg, the wonderful swell of her bum perched at the edge, her legs spread. By leaning out only slightly, I could run my eyes down the crevice of her bum and over the shadowy softness of her bare pussy lips, and further down her smooth thighs. I didn't let my cock get trapped underneath this time; my cock and balls were pressed against her warm hip and soft bum cheek, the tip of my cock poking up above her bum. Her delicate back stretched out across the bed. "Do you want me like this?" she asked, and folded her hands together behind her back. I didn't think that was my kink, but my cock surged a little in response to her suggestion. Or maybe it was in response to her willingness to play like this... it was a first.

Perfect!

"Mrs. _____________, you know why you are here. You've been bad, and you're going to take your punishment like a ma... woman!"

"Oh, Mr. _____________!" she said, wiggling her hips and causing an immediate thrill in my adjacent cock. "Please don't spank me, I'll be good, I promise I will!"

The wordplay was silly, and effective. The thrill mounted quickly as I raised my hand. As she began mock-pleading again, I delivered a smack to the middle of her bum, stopping her words with a sharp "Ohh!" She clenched her cheeks against the sting, and then quickly softened them again. I wanted a movie camera!

SMACK! Pause. SMACK! Pause. SMACK! Three delivered with careful precision on one cheek, then the other, and then in the middle down low. Each just hard enough to make the smacking sound. Each producing a small ripple through her soft cheeks. Each making her clench her wonderful orbs together in response, squeezing the secret cleft into soft, sensuous shapes in the dusky light. And each clench bringing her pressing down against my leg, her warmth folding against my thigh, her soft, smooth hip and bum rubbing down and up a few inches against the underside of my stiff shaft. It was already lubricated by my own dribbling secretions, so each movement was electrifying.

I began stroking her with feather touches, and watched her relax back into the bed. Her hands relaxed too, not clenching each other so hard. When I asked, "OK?" she reached down with one hand to pat my hip before returning it to position behind her back. "Please, sir, no more, I'll be a good girl now, I promise, I really will!" I knew she was still playing, and when she wiggled her hip again against my slick cock, it wasn't just the physical sensations that sent another jolt into my pleasure center. God, I loved her!

SMACK! As soon as it landed, I knew that one had been unintentionally harder than the others. "Oohhhhh!" she moaned as she pressed down in a long, extended clench. "I'm sorry," I said as I reached up to gently rub her lower back, just above her stinging swells. "That wasn't intentional." After a long moment, she relaxed again. "It's OK," she said. Then, after a long pause, me still rubbing her back, "Try one more like that."

I did. Again she moaned softly, clenching her center against me for a long moment before relaxing into softness again. "One more," she said, a bit of strain in her voice.

I delivered one more of the medium-hard smacks, and saw the strain not just in her spectacular bum but across her back, in her hands. "OK," she said when she started breathing again. "That's enough of those. It's very intense."

Intense for me too. Not the hitting. Not even so much the more-pronounced squeezing and rubbing against me. The thrill came from knowing she was experimenting, going with me outside the usual boundaries, trusting me. As a lover, she usually needed things to follow a predictable path, so it was pretty exciting to have her testing new sensations.

I watched her for a few moments, just lightly touching her here and there wherever I could reach, letting my eyes carefully record the glorious sight of her stretched out over my leg and my bed, until she was completely relaxed again.

Then I began very lightly spanking her; soft, gentle, little slaps, with lots of stops for rubbing around. She didn't clench at these, but rolled her hips appreciatively from time to time as over minutes I covered her bum from top to bottom and side to side with little love pats. I don't know what it was about her soft swells and their enticing crevice, but the thrill just wouldn't quit; I could have done this forever.

Finally, as I approached the little crease where one wonderful full cheek met her thigh, I just kept going down her thigh, slapping very lightly down inside the one, two-thirds of the way down to her knee, and then back up inside the other. I moved slowly, shifting only an inch or so between each sharp pat. As I neared her soft apex on the way back up, I heard her suck in her breath sharply as she guessed at my intent.

Turning my hand, I spanked lightly down her cleft and kept going, between her legs below her bum, over the sensitive divide and into the already-puffy lips of her hairless sex, delighting to feel some slick wetness already there. I began to slap very lightly against her pussy, and then keep my hand where it landed and rotate the closed fingers of my hand over her pussy lips after each pat. The soft skin rolled gently under my hand, and I could feel the slick, hot crevice between her lips open from time to time against my flattened fingers.

Slowly, very slowly, I worked my way down to the top of her pussy, pat, rub, pat, rub. As I neared her magic button, she moaned softly, and spread her legs further apart in supplicant invitation. She moved her arms from behind her back, reaching up to clench the sheets beneath her as she stiffened in anticipation.

I began to focus my efforts just where she wanted them, on the stiff little nubbin and surroundings just at the top of her smooth, puffy lips. Nobody could call it slapping any more, I was patting, tapping against her most sensitive spot, and taking time to churn my closed fingers around between pats. Pat, pat, press moderately firmly and rotate a few times, repeat. She always responded better to a pattern of touches, as though she wanted to be able to anticipate what was coming, so I was happy to oblige. Pat, pat, churn, pat, pat, churn.