Bent over, face buried in the couch I focused on what I could hear. Past my deep breathing I listened to his jeans dragging across the carpet as he slowly paced behind me. The fan above my head and the familiar tink, tink, tinking of the chain gently meeting the glass light fixture. The whoosh of the white noise machine. The sound of — was that a wooden spoon I heard rubbing against his hand?
My breath quickened and my toes curled. I was immediately more anxious and aroused by the mere sound of the spoon. I heard it again as he lightly taps it against his hand. He wants me to hear it. Can he see that my pussy has already started leaking? Without even looking I am sure he knows.
He begins guiding me through a relaxing visualization. Painting a scene of a distant waterfall and a serene lake, sending me there to meditate and clear the noise in my head.
“You come upon a silvery lake in a densely wooded area. There is a gentle waterfall nearby and you hear the rushing water creating a relaxing, blanketing background noise.”
The white noise machine made it a little easier for me to follow directions. It isn’t always possible for me to visualize specific scenes in my head, but he knows me well enough to help facilitate.
“The scene is dark, everything is silhouetted. It’s just you there, alone and naked. Calm.”
I close my eyes and put the picture together, I imagined sitting on the ground, looking at my leg raised in the air, a shapely shadow in contrast to the moonlit lake in the background. Lifting my leg up, stretching and running my hands over it, I felt my smooth skin cooled by the night breeze.
His hand running against the back of my thigh brought me right back to the couch.
Another deep breath. Focus. I told myself. The lake. And another deep breath. Silvery, reflective and gently rippling towards me.
The first thwack of the wooden utensil against my skin surprised me and jolted me right to the pain radiating across my round ass.
Scrunching my eyes tightly closed I tried to find the lake again. It wasn’t working. Breathe. I listened for the waterfall and it started coming back–
Another swift whack on my left cheek this time.
Fuck. The lake. The waterfall. Reflective… Something. His hand feels so good on my — no — fuck — focus! Deep breath. Calm, quiet —
Harder this time, he hit the back of my thigh.
I gasped as the sting registered what seemed like moments after I heard the sound. Alternating sides, down my legs and across my ass, he continued slapping the wooden utensil against my needful skin.
Thoughts of the lake were long gone as I allowed myself the freedom to bask in the exquisite pain that he was so lovingly inflicting upon me.
Leaving the spoon resting on the small of my back he administered a firm, wide handed smack to my left cheek, then my right, then my left again. Roughly grabbing a handful of my plump ass he squeezed and manipulated the raw, tender skin.
He continued his delicious assault on my backside as I felt myself squirming against the couch, pressing my large breasts against the worn upholstery. Finding the friction of the fabric against my nipples shot lighting bolts directly to my cunt, which was now desperately throbbing in time with every impact my body received
His strikes became quicker, more intense, harder and harder and — he stopped.
I found myself briefly disorientated and deflated. It felt akin to an immediate feeling of physical and emotional loss, like something my whole body was screaming for, needing more of, craving the pain and the heat that it was just so intrinsically entangled in.
The feeling passes as though it never existed, it always does. He gently pulls at my shoulder, guiding me up to my knees. He pets my hair softly, soothing touches gently across my neck and shoulders.
“Are you okay? he asked.
I nod my head in response, not quite ready to form words yet.
“Good.” he replied as he pressed his throbbing rock hard jean-clad cock firmly against the side of my face. “Because, I’m not done with you.”