tagBDSMIntimate Recollections

Intimate Recollections


There's nothing like a bit of 'us' time, especially spent in the privacy of a chic hotel, where, Eva hopes, some interruption-free spanking play might be indulged during this wicked weekend away.

They stop for coffee en route and once seated she notices a familiar wicked gleam in Oliver's eye, accompanied by an unexpected edict: "I want you to take your knickers off and give them to me."

"Not here!" gasps Eva.

Oliver looks around. Might a busy motorway halt be too risky? "Alright,'' he relents, "hand them over when you come back from the loo."

Minutes later, blushing furiously and clutching her scanties tightly in her hand less anyone see Eva surrenders a silky scrap of lingerie.

"I have enough trouble getting in and out of a car in heels and a skirt without exposing myself at the best of times," she complains, "this will make it doubly perilous."

"I know", agrees Oliver who's already thoughtfully planning to hold the door open for her...

Back on the road Eva receives her next surprise instruction: "Hitch your skirt up."

"Oh Oliver..."

"Do as you're told, or be sorry later."

Probably not, thinks Eva, as she sensually slides it up her thighs. Eva has dressed to please and tease, but for her husband's eyes only. Right now her pussy risks an involuntary public appearance.

"Higher," he demands, enjoying her discomfort.

"Oliver, I'm not showing my..."

Fortunately she doesn't have too, although her stockings and suspenders are visible. Eva looks up anxiously every time they overtake a lorry, wondering if the driver can see.

A few miles on flashing headlights and a hooting horn confirm at least one can. Although she blushes and squirms in her seat Eva feels quite deliciously naughty. So much so were she travelling alone the urge to slide her hand up between her legs would be irresistible...

At their hotel the couple's luggage is taken to their room while they adjourn to the bar. Fragments of people's conversations float over from adjacent tables, intriguing phrases and disjointed sentences.

Eva looks around apprehensively; if they can hear others talk then quite possibly...

"So what's going to happen when we get upstairs?" Oliver interrupts her train of thought.

"You know very well," Eva whispers, flushing pink.

"Of course, but I want to hear you say it."

"But someone might hear," Eva replies agitatedly.

"Yes, quite possibly," Oliver allows, "but unless you wish me to apply my belt as well as the cane to your delinquent posterior you'd better do as you're told."

Eva looks around in panic, "Oliver," she implores, "you can't speak such things out loud."

"I just did," he replies calmly, "now it's your turn'.

"When we get upstairs..." Eva begins, then hesitates, "you're going to smack my bottom," her words tumble out in a barely audible rush.

"Sorry, couldn't make that out, say it again" grins Oliver.

Eva is now the epitome of embarrassment. "You're going to smack my bottom," she hisses furtively.

"Oh dear, still too quiet, louder please," commands her husband.

Eva takes a deep breath, musters her remaining dignity and speaks in a clear voice: "You're going to spank me." Oh God, all it needs is one of those sudden coincidental breaks in the general conversational hubbub and she'll share this shameful secret with a dozen nearby tables.

"And why is that?" Oliver enquires exploiting her evident discomfort.

"Because I've been bad," mumbles Eva, now transformed from poised mature woman to contrite girl.

"Quite so, and what will this chastisement involve?"

Eva glances around despairingly, hoping not to discover someone surreptitiously eavesdropping. "You'll put me over your knee and smack my bare bum," her voice trembles; humiliated Eva seems on the verge of tears.

"One final question..." begins Oliver.

He has Eva's full attention, what intimate confidence must she shamefacedly blurt out next?

"What will follow, if you take your punishment well - I'm looking for a particular verb," he adds, the hint almost as broad as his grin. Time to put her favourite fantasy into words.

"I hope you'll fuck me," whispers Eva, now extremely hot, very bothered and distinctly damp. A man to their left coughs and shifts his newspaper, concealing his expression.

To her immense, if momentary, relief Oliver calls for the bill. Unknown to Eva the chap at the next table savours the sight of her pleasingly full buttocks swaying a little as she walks on high heels towards whatever delights await Her husband's a lucky sod, he thinks enviously; I really must drink here again.

A little over 24 hours later, Eva's fantasies fulfilled, they're driving home. Same service area, different direction. Eva is once again commando beneath her tailored skirt, walking a tad stiffly towards the coffee shop, striped bottom still sore from last night (and this morning!) Sitting comfortably in the car has not been an option; in addition to the intimate spanking she craved Eva discovered her other half had, indeed packed a cane as a second course. Once aroused her capacity to tolerate pain increases and Eva's delectable derriere consequently received quite a whacking, followed of course by a requisitely satisfying conclusion on the big bouncy bed.

Coincidentally they take the same table as before, once again an Americano for him, a Cappuccino for her.

"Did you enjoy yesterday?" Oliver enquires archly.

"Ultimately," Eva smiles ruefully, "an intense experience, and a suitably orgasmic ending."

"Tell me how I punished you?"

"Well," Eva momentarily closes her eyes - playing the mental movie of last night's chastisement in her imagination.

"First you spanked me first across your knee -- my favourite position," she adds in case he should be planning a repeat performance anytime soon. "Alternating from cheek to cheek and quickly turning my bare bottom crimson. I was so turned on, and very wet. You slipped a finger between my legs and found my throbbing clit."

"Causing you to cry out, 'more please, I'm going to come,' or rather less ladylike words to that affect," interrupts Oliver.

"When you pushed two digits deep into my pussy, I did, rather loudly," responds his wife, squeezing her thighs together at the recollection.

"Then you returned the compliment, knelt dishevelled and desirable on the floor, took me in your mouth and..."

"Shhh, enough," Eva says, a tad regretfully since she's enjoying the replay, but is no less apprehensive about over sharing such intimacies than previously.

"No rubbing, I said sternly, of course you disobeyed and got the backs of your thighs slapped." Oliver has no intention of prematurely ending these erotic recollections.

"Wasn't fair", Eva pouts, "really hurt and left a nasty livid palm print." Ooops, she's unintentionally raised her voice, Eva ducks her head and looks abashed.

"Who said anything about fair?" replies Oliver, greatly amused at Eva's embarrassment. "Besides I wasn't completely nasty."

"True," Eva concedes, "You gazed lovingly into my eyes, desire positively coursed through my veins, I'd do anything you asked."

"I didn't ask, I told you to bend over the back of the sofa; pulled up your skirt and lowered that expensive underwear."

Eva takes over the tale. "And then produced a cane, I can't guess how you hid that in your suitcase?"

Oliver looks smug: "It was very flexible, ideally suited to burnishing your cute bum."

"Within just a few minutes across bottom was red hot," Eva winces at the recollection; "I pleaded with you to stop; most undignified."

"I was kind enough to massage those sore cheeks."

"I so desperately needed you inside me."

"Unfortunately I like to put the waiting into wanting," recalls Oliver. "Ritual and anticipation are essential to our little games so I had you slowly remove your clothes until clad only in a pearl necklace, stockings and high heels awaiting your master's pleasure.

"You ran your tongue over my erect nipples, I closed my eyes, shivering at the intense pleasure, then opened them wide in astonishment when you flicked the bamboo across each breast. Oh my, that was so arousing!" Eva seems to have cast discretion to the wind; her eyes have a far away look. "You ordered me back over the sofa, fingertips touching the cushions on one side, toes the other."

"Totally submissive, completely surrendered," adds Oliver.

"Next a horizontal line of fire blazed across my sore sit-upon. The next four strokes were hard, driving me forwards, feet kicking and crying out.

"Instructed to open my legs I obeyed immediately in case you added extra strokes. Fortunately the final cane cut was gentler, right across both cheeks."

"At which point you suggested in no uncertain terms that since you'd taken both the spanking and caning well (no argument) and your bottom was burning surely (and I'd defy anyone to resist the lascivious look on your face) you were due the usual 'reward'?" I held your hips steady, parted your engorged labia and filled you, moaning in delicious abandon, to the hilt."

"Quite so,' she shivers ecstatically at the bawdy recollection, "thank you kind Sir."

Suddenly keen to get home and resume their erotic narrative Oliver and Eva head towards their car. A few yards behind a truck driver on his rest break appreciates her mature curves. Very nice, looks a bit like the woman he saw flashing yesterday, but it can't be; this one's far too classy...

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