As the house has become occupied with family, I have to cast my mind back to the caning last Tuesday in order to remind myself that I must keep my cool this holiday and not get grumpy. I don’t know what it is about Christmas – it seems very enjoyable as a concept but less so in reality. Too much preparation and not enough substance I would say. My wife loves it however, so that is all that counts.
Last night in bed she commented that I seemed to making a good effort and that if there is an opportunity in the next day or so she will give out some quick reward strokes. She asked me if I would like a quick story before she fell asleep and I readily accepted. I removed my pyjama trousers and took myself in hand whilst she traced her sharp nails on the skin between my thighs. The story she told in a quiet sexy voice, was a version of an old theme involving a female teacher and a dilatory teenager who is summoned to her study for a severe thrashing. I am sure you can get the jist of the story.
The picture I had in mind, behind my closed eyes, was of a woman in her thirties who I had seen earlier in the day in an hotel bar. She had been dressed in a short sweater and black leggings with boots. Her bottom was truly peachy.
I came in only a few minutes and as I cleaned myself up, my wife rolled over on her side to go to sleep. I kissed the back of her neck and thanked her.
I am awake early right now to get this post done before Christmas Eve chores and errands take over.
I wish you all a spankingly good Christmas