Sunday, December 9, 2018

Teeth Marks in the Soap

A chilly autumn day; gray clouds dotting the sky like puffs of smoke from an old mans pipe. The heat kicks on late into the afternoon while Eric and I dash in and out of the house; running errands, working, and prepping for another long week ahead.  Finally, a moment presents itself to catch our breaths and we end up in the living room at the same time.

"Strip for me," he says, settling into the cushions of a couch filled with many memories.

"You can leave your socks on," he adds, on second thought, "it's cold in here."

I hesitate, thinking of the extra pounds I've put on recently, but his eager face makes me brush the insecurity away and I remove my pants, sweatshirt, and bra.  Eric puts me across his lap and meticulously strokes every inch of a body that has been through months and months of hell.  My muscles give way, the angry scars settle softly under his touch, and a sense of security calms my nerves.  I flip over and let his hands work their magic on my front as well, my head nuzzling into the cozy fabric of his pullover.

"I want to make all of your dreams come true," he says earnestly, "whatever you want, Amy Lynn, I'm the guy to give it to you.  Anything.  I want to make you the happiest girl in the world."

Eric takes me to the kitchen counter and after placing a plush towel on the tile, lays my body on the hard surface.  Knees spread, he dives his tongue in and out of my private petals; licking, lapping, and loving every crack and crevice.

"Come on, Pretty Girl," he says pulling me to my feet, "let's go upstairs."

We make our way to the bedroom but Eric walks me back to the bathroom counter and once again puts the towel in place, this time for me to sit rather than lie down.

"We need to talk about your mouth, Young Lady," he scolds reaching for a bar of soap (grapefruit scented) from the side of the tub.  Months, maybe even years ago, we had a conversation about getting one's mouth washed out with a bar of soap. Another blogger had been using it to refrain from smoking and we had heard other stories of such discipline.  I was curious, the one who pushed it and said, one day, I'd like to know what it was all about.

My stomach lurched, that moment of realization that once again, this man had listened to me and planned out a way to give me what I asked for.  I gulped as he continued.

"You're getting spanked while you hold this bar of soap in your mouth," his tone was sincere and stern, "and if you break it or drop it, I'm going to wet my fingers and run them over the soap and around your mouth so you never forget this day."

I have been accused of being mouthy before but for the life of me, could not think of what recent event would cause my husband to want to wash out my mouth with soap.  True to form, Eric caught me off guard by punishing me not for what I said, but for what I didn't say.  Soap in mouth, his belt swatted my naked behind for not standing up for myself when asked to work too much, or when my feelings were being hurt.

One swat and I jumped, spun around and gave him giant doe eyes.

"You can take it out if you need to say something," he said.

I shook my head and tried to speak around the bar.

"It's too much," I mumbled and he unfolded the belt and wrapped it around his hand so just the tale end would leave his mark.

Two more swats and I was jumping again.

"Take it out if it's terrible," he said and I did.

"Yuck!" I said, bits of soap stuck to the back of my teeth.  "How do people do this?!" I exclaim and run to the sink to spit and do a quick rinse with mouthwash.

Eric just shook his head.

"Face the mirror," he said and his belt flew from the top of my shoulder blades, methodically down my back, bottom, and legs.

When he finished, I spun around and drove my lips onto his mouth, my body alive and on fire, filled with passion for this man who owns my heart.  Without breaking stride, we made our way to the bed and spent an hour kissing, holding, hugging, and pounding away.  I do not orgasm easily and certainly not without a toy or added stimuli.  Today, that all changed.  The massive amount of foreplay and care and love showered upon me all culminated in a magnificent shudder that rocked my mind enough to see stars.

An incredible day. An incredible man.

I am the happiest girl in the world and lying on my elbow, staring into the eyes of the most handsome, intelligent, considerate, and sexy man I've ever met is truly all I need.

No more teeth marks in the soap; but completely worth the "try".


Tuesday, December 4, 2018

Comfort Zone

The blustery wind blew orange and yellow leaves across deep green grass and the sky was filled with layers of dark clouds, threatening rain.  We dressed in silence, tension across Eric's face and stress filled thoughts on my mind. Finally, he spoke.

"Why were you up at 2am? It's like you're slipping back into old patterns but you're barely returning to work and getting on your feet."

I sighed.  It had been well over 48 hours since I'd been given the green light to be free of medical restrictions. Naturally I took that to mean, "sign up for everything you've been missing out on, commit to the impossible, and when you get overwhelmed just stop sleeping". 

Come on.  Sleep is overrated. Right?

Eric wasn't having it.

"I looked at the Blog last night," he stated, news to me since I hadn't checked on it in weeks.  "You never replied to the comments on your last post.  It's not like you and it's not right."

He kissed me on his way out the door and mentioned that we'd be "taking care of this tonight".  As I gathered my belongings for the day, a warm sense of familiarity settled in my bones.  Hour passed exuding high levels of productivity, progress, and a positive outlook, all in anticipation of the dreaded yet desired evening ahead.

"Amy Lynn," Eric's voice echoed throughout the house as he announced his arrival home.  "Upstairs NOW."

I knew the drill.  His hand on the back of my arm, leading me to our bedroom.  An order to strip before him and then enter the walk-in closet.  Fingers laced overhead, clutching tightly to the top clothing rack while the hairbrush landed squarely on one check and then the other.  Back sweaty, breathing exaggerated, my body coming alive as my brain relaxed.  One last strike and he was in my ear, "You're going over my knee young lady, and then after some corner time, you're going to respond to those bloggers."

In the main room, I watch as Eric pulls the spanking chair from against the wall.  I get lost in his strength, determination, and masculinity.  He is solid and powerful, strikingly handsome with a slight wave to his hair and bright blue eyes that sparkle. I've memorized his hands, their appearance and the tasks they perform; care, correction, caress.

Eric sits and beckons for me to find my place, securely tucked in the crease of his legs.  The rain pounds against the window as my spanking ensues on already reddened skin, his hand slapping, smacking, and stating the purpose behind our routine. I memorize his ankle as I hold tight, trying not to squirm or cry out, silently encouraging him to do more, strike harder, spank longer.  It's too much and I send my hand back in protection.  He knows he has me and pinned in place, he rounds out the routine with ten quick swats.

The corner is cold, a chilling relief to an inflamed backside, and after a short time, we make love. As he showers, I fulfill his directive, and am back on the Blog.

I've missed this.



That sense of normalcy, even if only for a day.

It's a good thing.


Saturday, November 17, 2018

Day Two, A Love Our Lurkers Story

Dear Lurkers,

Yesterday my husband promised to take me to our favorite fancy white table cloth kind of place just to spend some nice quality time together.
 Image result for white table cloth dinner
We agreed to cut our work days short so we could really enjoy the evening together but as luck would have it, we both ended up dealing with one thing after the other, putting us each in terrible moods and way behind schedule.  We took two different cars and through sporadic texts, decided to meet at a little coffee shop first, a caffeine kick becoming a necessary evil to get through the night.  That's right.  Get THROUGH the night.  Our date night had become a box to check as neither one of us felt like going out or pretending like we could focus on anything but our jobs. Neither of us wanted to let the other down either.  (Apologies.  The intro was WAY TO LONG.)
Image result for bad mood

Eric and I sat in the coffee shop and griped, moaned, and complained about our jobs and how our days were going.  We got interrupted by phone calls, emails, and texts which just added to the misery. When we finished our coffees, we headed toward the door and found a small gift giving tree perched near the trash can.  You know, the kind with tags asking for a bike for a kid or clothes for a family.  Anyway, we decided to read the tags and realized this was a tree for senior citizens.  Suddenly, it had a very different feel.  These elderly people were asking for basics like a blanket, socks, or in one case, a tray to eat off of.  We both froze when we saw a tag that read, "toiletries".  Seriously. This elderly woman was requesting toiletries, something we take for granted every single day.
Image result for christmas gift giving tree

"Let's go crazy," Eric said, grabbing the tag off the tree.  "Come on, let's make this lady's day."

We got a cart at the local Target and spent an hour picking out everything from a new towel set, to soaps and lotions, to a nail set, hairbrush, and shampoo.  Naturally, Eric is the one who threw the bath brush in and I grabbed a tri-pack of colorful toothbrushes and paste.  On our way to the register, we grabbed a gift bag, tissue paper, and a card.
Image result for toiletries

I have to tell you, wandering the halls of toiletry supplies in a department store turned out to be one of the best times Eric and I have ever spent together.  Our work world vanished and we each grinned from ear to ear, finding all kinds of things to make someone else's life a little better. Packing that bag in the back of the car and hand-writing that Christmas card sealed the deal and we happily returned the gift to the coffee shop.

My Eric is an absolutely wonderful man and though I am always touched when he wants to take me out and make me feel pretty or special, I truly felt more incredible than ever using that money on someone else.  We both did.  It's been 24 hours and we are still talking about and basking in the glow of it all.

We somewhat lurked in someone else's life for the giving tree.  My laptop battery is dying and the cord is at the office so I have to cut this short.  Have a wonderful weekend and may we all improve the lives of others in one way or another during the holiday season.
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Love you, our lurkers and those who choose to comment.  We are all friends here.

Amy (and Eric)