07 July 2013

Birthday Spankings

I woke up late, sunlight already falling across my bed, and stretched luxuriously under the soft, white cotton.  It was my birthday. I opened my eyes and saw you in the doorway. I don't know how long you had been standing there watching me sleep. In your hand was a single, long-stemmed, red rose. I smiled and sat up, the blanket falling to my waist, revealing bare breasts and creamy skin waiting to be touched. I always wanted to be touched.  You crossed the room and held the flower under my nose, letting me take in the fresh, green scent. You placed a finger under my chin and made me look at you.

"Feel," you said, "there are no thorns. I removed them so that they wouldn't pierce your skin when I gave you your birthday spankings."

I melted a little in that moment, but when I saw the seriousness in your eyes, my breath caught and I bit my lip.

You gently pushed me back onto the bed and stripped off the blanket. I lay there, naked under your gaze, and my whole body began to flush. We stared at one another, each drinking the other in, sipping from the cup of our mutual desire. My eyes lingered on your mouth, such a sexy mouth, your chin, such a strong chin, and down to your hands. Oh god, those hands!

You held the rose by the tip of its stem and trailed the blossom gently over my body. The petals, like velvet, slipped across my skin leaving the faintest chills in their wake. It was delicious. You bent down, kissed me gently, and whispered, "Turn over."

I complied and you placed a pillow under me, assuring that my ass was properly on display. You continued your soft stroking. I felt the petals kiss the backs of my knees, trace the curve of my ass, dance across my back, and finally come to rest against the hollow of my neck. You reached onto the side table and withdrew a paring knife. With it, you cut the rose from its stem, placed it in a small glass of water, and smiled down at me.

"Are you ready?" you asked. The look in my eye gave all the consent you needed. "Count for me."

I closed my eyes and listened to the stem whistle through the air, before feeling the first, sharp sting.

"One," I gasped.

You stroked your hand across my plump cheeks, admiring the stripe, deciding where your next blow should land.

"Two. Three. Four." I whispered, as those lashes came in quick succession.

I opened my eyes and focused on the flower by the bed...five. Oh god. It felt so good. Six. Seven. Eight. I writhed under your lashes, knowing that before you were finished, my ass would match the flower in color. Nine. Ten!

You moved to the other side of the bed and I squirmed under your gaze. You liked it when I squirmed. With eleven and twelve you found new places for the stem to fall, my ass rising up to meet it. Through the teens you worked down and back up my thighs, leaving small, pale welts in your wake.  Your hand smoothed over my skin, soothing me, warming me. You guided my ass higher up in the air and completed the set. By the end I was crying out the numbers like prayers. I gulped air into my lungs, sweat dampened my brow, and I looked up at you.

With one final stroke, you imparted the proverbial 'one to grow on' and then dropped the stem to the floor and pressed your face against the hot, striped skin of my ass. Your lips ran over welt after welt, kissing them. Tasting them with your tongue. You stood up and looked down at me.

"So beautiful," you whispered.

You smoothed the hair back from my face, traced your finger down my spine, dipping into the cleft of my ass, and forward, feeling the wetness of my pussy. You stroked me then, fingers delving briefly inside me, and back out to circle my clit. You crawled onto the bed, knelt between my legs, and nestled the tip of your cock against me. I whimpered and tried to push back onto you, but you moved with me and continued to tease.

"Please," I begged. "I need you. I need to be filled."

And with that you plunged your cock deep into my pussy, filling me to overflowing. You pressed your cool hips against my burning ass. I could feel the weight of you balls brush against me. In that moment I felt so complete. A deep sigh of contentment escaped my lips.  Your hands grasped my hips, fingers kneading the soft flesh there, and you began to move in me, finding a rhythm, our rhythm. By now our bodies knew one another so well. Your cock tasted my depth, moving slowly in and out, and then suddenly landing deep inside, grazing my cervix.

"Oh, god, yes!" I moaned, and you knew what I wanted. You began to pound into me, my hips thrusting up to meet yours at every turn. It was such beautiful torment. I was so close, so very close.

You reached underneath me and grasped my nipple, burying yourself to the hilt, and commanded that I cum for you. And I did. I came so hard that stars bloomed behind my eyes and your name escaped my lips over and over again. And still you didn't stop. You kept fucking me, prolonging my orgasm. I thought it would never end. I hoped it would never end. And finally, as my name crossed your lips, you pulled out of me and came in warm, sticky spurts across my ass. Your cum a balm on my striped flesh.

We collapsed on the bed in a tangle of limbs. You kissed my brow, said "happy birthday," and we drifted off to sleep.