Breakfast on Friday... I was in my groove. The day was completely mapped out from the first cup of coffee to lights out at 10 pm. Eric got an earful over toast and eggs. I didn't think it was bossy or condescending. It was merely a listing of everything that needed to happen, in the order it needed to happen, the way it needed to happen, to make sure it all happened. I kissed him good-bye at 7:15 on the dot and headed to an 8 o'clock meeting that ran three hours and twenty seven minutes; during which time I had no access to my phone.
Listen here, young lady. I've had just about enough of your mouth. I expect to see the slotted spoon on the table when I get home. That will remind you that I'm 51
Ms. 49 You had better come up with a plan to see me at lunch or I will march into your office and pull you out by the arm
Ignoring me will only make it worse
Amy, You had better answer or your bottom will pay the price
I got goosebumps... and butterflies. I blushed and am sure my heart was beating loud enough for the entire office to hear. It was 11:27 and would take me thirty minutes to get home; completely throwing off the plan for the day.
I abandoned said "plan" and hit the road - texting that I was on the way. The garage door was still closing when Eric pulled up. Just enough time for a swish of mouthwash and I greeted him at the door, arms around his neck and a hugely passionate kiss on his lips.
His fingers entangled themselves in my hair and he kissed back, long and luxuriously thrusting his tongue between my lips and teeth, taking my mouth over and making me melt from the inside out.
We pulled apart and I lost myself in his eyes. It didn't even register that he'd asked a question.
My mind jolted back and my eyebrows expressed the confusion brought on by his harsh tone.
"I asked if the spoon was on the table." Eric stated with a stern voice that matched the look on his face.
I went red. Tried to kiss him again. Attempted to look cute. Got marched upstairs and sent to the closet where the implement box resides with clear instructions to break out the slotted spoon.
Eric unzipped my dress, slid it off my shoulders and watched as I stepped out of it. I don't care what the premise of removing my clothes is; the zipper sliding down my back, his hands at my shoulders gently pealing the material from my skin, stepping to the side and standing naked before him - it is sensual, seductive and sexy as hell.
Eric pulled the "spanking chair" away from the wall and in my daze, easily had me over his knee where he took his time slipping my thong halfway down my thighs.
"No warm up today," he stated and the dreaded spoon landed squarely on my sit spot causing my body to tighten around his legs.
Eric smacked my ass five or six times on each side, rubbing both cheeks afterward knowing full well this spoon is the harshest and most painful item we own.
Corner time, out of the question as the clock ticked and we both had to get back to work.
"Over the bed," he stated grabbing the belt buckle on his pants and I knew I was in for more.
His hand slapped my right side once and I heard the clink of the belt work its way through the loops. A second slap with his hand suddenly turned into nine quick spanks; each a little harder until the last one popped so loudly I rolled to the side trying to get away.
"Oh no you don't!" he snapped and pulled me back around. His hands held my hips tightly in place and then, to my surprise, his sweet loving lips were caressing the red welted hand print he had left on my ass. He soothed my skin with gentle sweet kisses. A moment later, I was on my feet and he was zipping my dress back in place.
We went in the bathroom and straightened our clothes and hair back to a work acceptable appearance.
"I hope you learned your lesson, Amy49," Eric said, half serious and half teasing.
"No way, Eric37," I flirted back. Without his belt, I easily dropped to my knees taking his jeans down with me and exposing him right at eye level.
"Amy!" he exclaimed and I put my lips fully around his .....
Let me tell you, a surprise blow job in the middle of the day after a lunchtime beating sure makes for a happy couple. Eventually my list got done. His list got done. The pressure of when it would happen, what would happen, and how it would happen was off and it all still happened.
Eric is gone again this weekend and I've spent two days cleaning house and avoiding homework (Hey... I could blog instead of writing my paper!) because, quite frankly, I'm still in la-la land from Friday.
Happy Sunday to all of you love birds! Make it a good one. :)