A Steamy Lesbian Fantasy

I walk naked into our living room, where my husband is sitting on the couch reading the newspaper. He is unaware of my presence or my intentions until I push the newspaper aside and lay across his lap, sunny-side up, and hand him the paddle.

"What have you been doing?" he asks as he touches the cool plastic of the paddle against my yearning backside.

This gives me an instant rush of pleasure, as I anticipate what is to follow.

"Fingering myself," I say meekly, "and having lesbian fantasies."

"Which hand did you use?" he asks sternly.

"Both hands," I reply, spreading the fingers of both hands and reaching my arms straight out in front of myself as though getting ready to dive off of a diving board.

"You need to clean those dirty hands of yours," he says, moving the cool plastic across my backside, the calm before the storm.

One by one, I suck and lick the vaginal secretions from my fingers, savoring the taste and cleaning them as best able, while feeling my husband's hardness pressing against my naked belly.

"Did you enjoy playing with yourself?" he asks when I have finished sucking my female nectar from my fingers and have resumed my diving position.

"Yes," I reply, my voice beginning to tremble.

"How many orgasms did you give yourself with your dirty little fingers?" he asks.

"None," I whimper.

"Don't lie to me!" he warns, bringing the paddle down hard on my naked flesh for my first delightful spank.

"I'm not lying," I sob.

And I was telling him the truth, I had not allowed myself a single orgasm, despite nearly an hour of sitting naked on our bed and watching myself masturbate in our bedroom mirror. I fingered my labia, vagina and clitoris very roughly and brought myself to several near-orgasms as I imagined my face being smothered by a sexy naked woman's dripping furnace, but I stopped each time before pushing myself over the edge. Previous experience has taught me, the orgasms I achieve while my husband spanks me are much more intense after a few close calls.

Another hard spank, and I feel the temperature inside of my vagina rising. My volcano is going to erupt and send gushes of hot lava down my legs and onto my husband's lap very soon!

To ensure I receive the severe spanking I so deliriously desire, I add fuel to the fire by sobbing loudly, "I'm a dirty, naughty girl who sits naked in our bedroom and plays with myself in front of the mirror while thinking about sexy women sitting on my face, and I need to be punished mercilessly."

The brutal spanking my husband delivers has me crying like a baby and ensures I will not be sitting comfortably any time soon, and I have two incredible orgasms on his lap!

When he is finished paddling my flesh, I kneel in front of him, open my mouth, and he rides my face to an explosive orgasm. I gobble down every delicious drop!

I am a very lucky woman! My two favorite things in this world are being spanked, and performing fellatio and filling my belly with thick, yummy semen, and I get to enjoy both of my favorite things with my husband almost every day!

Unfortunately, my husband is leaving for a week-end trip with a few of his friends, and this afternoon's rendezvous will have to last until Sunday night.

What is a very libidinous woman to do with such abundance of suppressed lust?

My husband suggests I should use my free time to write a Literotica story about my latest fantasy. That is, if I can sit on my tender backside at our computer long enough to put my thoughts into words.

I begin to devise a plan that will do him one better.

Saturday morning the gym is practically empty. There is only one other woman there, and she is the object of my lustful desire. We call her Perdita, after the female Dalmatian in the Disney movie, because we do not know her name, and because she wears white tights with black Dalmatian spots. She looks very sexy in her black sports bra and spotted tights, fit and strong yet feminine, with the perfect amount of everything in all of the right places, and no visible-panty-line in back or camel toe in front.

After a short work-out, I head to the locker room, undress, and enter the last shower stall, the one Perdita always uses, and yes, I have been watching her for some time. I leave the shower door open, and I wait.

A few long minutes later, I hear the sound of shower-shoes flopping along the tile floor toward the showers, as an ice-ball forms inside of my chest, and a volcano erupts in my loins.

"Oh, I'm sorry," Perdita says as she hangs up her bathrobe and enters the small shower stall.

I am standing in the corner beneath the shower-head, naked, facing her as she reaches back for her bathrobe.

My eyes are instantly glued to her incredible breasts, staring straight ahead even without support. Although I work-out regularly, my body will never look as voluptuous as hers, thanks to my many years of gymnastics. My breasts are firm yet small, my belly flat, and my hips, narrow. I do not possess a curvaceous figure, the type that gets a second look. My toned legs look quite darling, I am told, in a skirt, but tights do not compliment my backside the way they do Perdida's. Standing in front of me, self-conscious and naked, she could have the starring role in anyone's wet-dream. I am totally in awe!

"No need to be sorry," I say casually, as if a stunningly beautiful naked woman is not standing mere inches from me in the shower stall furthest from the locker room entrance. "There's plenty of room, and enough hot water for an army."

I turn on the water as if sharing the stall has been decided, then angle my body toward the shower-head in the corner as the hot spray hits my chest and runs down my body.

"What happened?" she asks when she sees the red welts on my backside.

"Oh, it's nothing," I reply with a shrug, turning my face toward hers. "I like to be spanked."

She opens her mouth to say something, and I lean in and kiss the softest, sweetest lips I have ever tasted.

She puts a hand on my hip and responds favorably to my advance.

We embrace as our tongues explore each other's mouth, the hot water and steam enveloping us.

Her breasts feel wonderful pressing into my much-smaller offerings as the hot water continues to soak us from head to toe, adding just the right amount of sultriness to our passion. With both hands on my hips, she is careful not to touch my reddened backside until I move her hands there myself and acknowledge, "It's not as bad as it looks."

She reaches one hand around to my clean-shaven private area and asks, "Do you shave every day?"

"Most days," I reply, touching her neatly-trimmed pubic hair with an open palm.

"It feels so smooth and sexy," she says, looking into my eyes, then asks, "Will you do mine?"

"It would be my pleasure," I reply, adding mischievously, "As long as you promise to sit on my face when I am done."

"I've never been with a woman before," she admits hesitantly.

I enter her with one wet finger and say, "You are with one now!"

She smiles and then closes her eyes, leaning her head back and allowing the hot water to roll down her lean abdomen.

She reaches into her shower kit and removes a small can of shaving cream and a razor, and I kneel in front of her, wrap my arms around her hips, and kiss her labia gently. The water running down her belly makes her pubic hair sag; it looks like a beard!

"Then we have a deal?" I ask playfully.

"Yes," she replies. "But you have to sit on my face after I sit on yours."

With sponges and shower gel we clean each other lovingly after I have finished shaving her pubic hair, and we are still the only two women in the locker room as we dry each other off.

"Now, about our agreement," I begin, eyeing a bench where our face-sitting could commence.

"Maybe we can find someplace more private," she says, glancing toward the locker room door as she steps into a pair of thong panties, adding, "Oooh, now I feel smooth and sexy too! Mmmmm..."

"My husband will be out of town until tomorrow night," I suggest, pulling a T-shirt over my head. "We can have the whole place to ourselves."

"Will you spank me after you sit on my face?" she asks with a sparkle in her eyes.

"Well, I don't know," I begin in a mock-serious tone. "Have you been a naughty girl?"

"I will be!" she says, smiling radiantly.

I love this woman!

She follows me home after we finish getting dressed, and we spend the rest of the day between each other's legs and over each other's lap, watching our reflections in the bedroom mirror, talking, and making love in every way two women can. We cuddle all night in a tangle of arms, legs, tongues, and every inch of naked flesh our tongues can reach. In the morning we take a long, sensuous bubble bath together and then return to bed for another round of face-sitting, spanking, and lovemaking, promising to get together again every time my husband is away.

I change the bed-sheets before my husband gets home Sunday night, and wait for him at the door, naked and on my knees. I greet him with one of the sloppiest welcomes he has ever received in his life, and swallow two full days' worth of his luscious semen, craving more.

Later that night in bed, as I swallow another opulent mouthful of his scrumptious semen, he marvels that my backside is so red, since it has been two days since he last spanked me.

Should I tell him?