“Am very tense. Can I cash in that spanking later?”
I sent him the text while on the Tube home from work. It was late. I was, indeed, pretty damn tense. Just as I’d been the night before – I’d walked home from the station with a desperate need for a release only to find him half asleep.
“Aw shit. I was going to ask you if you could spank me.”
“Oh. I could still spank you!”
“No, it’s alright. I’m a bit done with today, anyway.”
Sleep helped that night. But as I shifted in my seat on the Tube, uncomfortably sitting with the stress of the past few hours, I knew it wouldn’t this time.
So I waited until I got signal. And I texted him to say that I was running late and stressed and spank now yes please thank.
This time, there was no brain static. No sneaky anything spiral catching me while I was walking down from the station. There was nothing but a desperately nagging need for some sort of sexual release. It was the first time in a while I’d felt my libido focus like this.
It was nice.
It continued to be nice, from the first sting of the crop on my soft bottom. Like a welcome hiss of cleansing pain.
Slap by slap, I felt myself relaxing. Sinking under, deep into my body. Surrendering and letting the tension wash away while my skin and body throbbed contentedly.
I was needy after that spanking. Very, very needy. And for what felt like the first time in ages I managed to communicate what I wanted from him, to him. I wanted him to make me come, plain and simple.
Or, you know, not that simple because I still have no idea how he managed to do it. It involved the faux-leather tongue of the crop, my clit and his fingers doing something that I still get shivers about when I think back.
It was, for want of another word, gorgeous. The kind of orgasm where you forget things like how shirts work and what your name is. The kind that, and I shit you not, actually gave me sex flush.
The kind that made me go “I GET TO WRITE THIS ONE, I GET TO WRITE THIS ONE.” because #sexbloggerlyfe