Sunday, July 31, 2016

Us against them

We are in a battle against smalldickmotherfuckers.
Definition: Anyone or anything interfering with what otherwise would be a wonderful life.

For us, it is corporate politics where high level positions are being targeted by low level scum.

For others, it is illness or loss, aging, etc.

Under the microscope.

A gun to my head.

I hate this place.

I wake to anxiety but find strength when I hear Eric's voice, "the conversation is for us, we are in this together, hang with me, I'm not going anywhere".

The job has changed again. Three days apart, I complained incessantly. Now the travel becomes three weeks, potentially three months at a time. It's calculatingly savvy, financially right, and in the long run worth all of the sacrifices.

Each lonesome day adds one more penny to the jar of this relationship and it will ultimately become a lifetime of unlimited adventure and shared experiences. Patience is key.

Let's dance, smalldickmotherfuckers. The days, months, years will pass and we will continue to put "one foot in front of the other" (Click here for song from Santa Claus Is Coming to Town.) toward true love and happiness; while you sniveling shits will be left to rot alone in this dust bowl of filth. No, I'm not bitter. I'm determined. This has become a game of willpower and Eric is not the type to lose.

Self discipline will undoubtedly return in an attempt to battle the overthinking side of the female mind. Lucky for me, Spanking Theater posted a self spanking guide this morning.

I'm not by myself yet, with company here for the week and then I'll visit my favorite beach spot for some therapeutic sandy saltwater sunshine. In no time, it'll be back to the books as I muddle through a couple semesters.

My heart is burning with love for Eric and a deep seeded resolve to make all of our dreams come true has set itself stubbornly in my mind, the same way I buckle down for a hard but necessary thrashing with his belt. Someone wrote, "You are a beautiful woman with a beautiful body who happens to need regular discipline to be the best that you can be and that's okay." That someone could have been Eric.

I'm tired of feeling like the rug is constantly being pulled out from under us when we work so hard for everything we have. We always put others in front of our own needs and desires. When do we get time for us?

I may be a bad girl but I'm not a bad person and the situation is heartbreaking to say the least. I bounce between anger, fear, determination, hope, guilt, longing, joy - a regular emotional smorgasbord that is easily tamed with a trip over Eric's knee and a cuddle on his lap. Not sure what to do when he can't be home. Literally here two days in August, maybe only one in September. Thank goodness for cell phones and Facetime.

Our relationship is one of great quality, but extremely limited quantity right now. We can do this. One foot in front of the other... watch out you smalldickmotherfuckers. Eric will do the job and I will wait it out but in the end, you will take nothing from us.


Thursday, July 28, 2016


I've never felt so close to Eric as I do today.

He challenged me to let go of some of the negative voices in my head.

He spanked me in the kitchen with the cheese board to clear my mind.

Then up to our room, he stripped me of all clothing and pulling out his favorite leather strap, had me lay across his lap.

"Tell me what you hear in your head, the things that haunt you, and let me help you let them go."

At the risk of being, I can't say vulnerable because we are all learning it's not the most accurate choice of words... at the risk of being ridiculed or rejected in such a raw state, I threw caution aside and just said the words that are trapped in my brain.

Eric talked a lot, in between every hard slap of stiff folded leather.

"Let it go, honey," he said over and over. "Don't allow the past or other people to control who you are or who you want to be."

He whipped my bottom until I said the words, "I'm letting it go." and then he rubbed my back and hair while I cried into the carpeted floor.

Eric sat me on his lap and held me like a small child.  I buried my face in his neck and allowed his strength to engulf my quivering everything.

"I know there is more," he stated, forcing my gaze to meet his. "We can't remove it all today but I think you can take another thing off your mind."

I nodded, unable to speak, as he gently put me over his knee once again.  More words.  More pain flowing from my lips.

The leather strap was relentless until I gave and released the ache in my heart. Back on Eric's lap and in his arms, he untangled countless hours I've lost worrying about things that will never come to pass.

Eric kissed and caressed me, cradled and comforted me, and then he took me to the closet for one last round with his weapon.  Hands overhead, holding on tight, Eric lashed out with quick succinct blows to each cheek until I couldn't take another strike. My ass was red and on fire. He moved to my back, deep cutting swats across my shoulder blades, igniting my sexuality.

In front of the mirror, I viewed a crimson behind as Eric filled my head with his view of the girl in his arms.

"You are so pretty. You are so smart. You carry yourself with such confidence."

I worry that hearing of my past will scare him away.  After three and a half years, he questions why he wouldn't have already gone.

"I'm not going to cut and run," he spoke with surefire conviction in his voice.

On the bed, I spread my ass cheeks to him and his cock made it's way deep inside. He filled me perfectly and rode me hard, pulling my hair and banging his hips into mine. He knew, with every thrust, I would believe his words and feel his love more intensely, more passionately.

I came.  I'm sure I was more verbal than usual.

He flipped me over and came on my stomach; silky white liquid pulsating all over my skin while I looked at his cock nestled above the soft tuft of hair at my crotch. Before dressing,  he drew the infamous sharpie heart on my right cheek.

Eric bought a bracelet tonight, for me to wear as a visual reminder of our relationship yesterday, today and tomorrow; without the clutter of the outside world or my manufactured insecurities.  His job is changing and we will see each other very little in August.  I am not going to let this scare me. Our bond is stronger than that.

I have never felt closer to Eric than I do today, right now.

Help me hold onto this feeling.

Amy, simply in love.

Sunday, July 24, 2016

Don't you hate when that happens?!

Eric has been at work all weekend and is dealing with some stuff that he's got to get through in his own head.

I've been trying to stay out of his way, give him the space he needs while also being supportive.

Today, I was driving and saw one of those amazing visions in the sky - light, clouds, colors, etc.

I knew Eric would love it so I took a couple pics.  He had asked me to text when I got home but instead, I sent a sweet "thinking of you" email and attached the breath taking scene.

I headed out for a walk with my neighbor, grabbed a bite to eat and went home to crawl into bed.

Sleepy, I looked at my email one last time.

"Amy. I'm sure you did not take those while you were driving!!!!!!"

Uh, I am certainly not sleepy anymore.

Don't you hate when that happens?! Here I am, being a good wife and sharing a special moment but NOOOOO, Mr. "be safe on the road" completely misses the magic of photography and calls me out on an inappropriate venue.

I looked back at the pictures. Ugh. I am obviously driving.  There are cars in the side mirror, which is smack dab in the center of the image.

I know Eric is going to turn this into a huge deal tomorrow.

I imagine myself answering his question, "Why didn't you just pull over?" with the first thing that pops into my head.

"Because I was on the freeway and driving too fast to stop."

This is not going to go well.

Silence. That is my best option.

Silence and an apologetically pitiful expression.

It's been nice knowing you, Blog land.


Friday, July 22, 2016

The Weight of the World

I see,
the weight of the world on your shoulders.
I hear,
the stress of the day in your voice.
I taste,
the unspoken words on your tongue.
I smell,
your lingering scent long after you've gone.
I touch,
your heart whether we are together or not.

Eric, my darling, you are the strongest man I've ever met.
Ethically, idealistically and intellectually there is no stopping you.

You are also human.

My love for you is not based on perfect days or unencumbered visions of who you are.
We have a partnership.
We share far more than fantasies and good times.
Life's experiences are not always wonderful,
but much of the closeness we encounter
grows through the challenges we endure and the bumps in the road.

Remember that I love you; the good you, the bad you and the ugly you (even the phunny you).

Take the time you need,
share what you want
but feel no pressure
if you must work through it on your own.

The love I have for you stays the same.
Obsessive. (jk)
Constant. Yes.
Unconditional. Yes.

ILY my love.


Thursday, July 21, 2016

In case you were wondering

"You're a bad girl, Amy."

I know I haven't been.

"I'm going to have to spank you."

I've actually been quite good lately.

"It's been too long since I've marked up that pretty little ass of yours."

I'm waiting.

I'm ready.

 I want to try it all.

Consider this my yes.


Sunday, July 17, 2016

The Visitor

She is having an Eat, Pray, Love moment.  You know, the kind where nothing in her life makes sense anymore so she pushes it all away and after thirty solid years of truths, has lost all faith in everything.

She left her home and hid in mine; tear streaked nights of red wine stained lips filled with heartbreaking stories of paths not taken, chances lost and deep divides.

We took a spa day. Loofah feet and pretty pink nails. Waxed lady parts, buried under mounds of tangled hair, now smooth and clean, fresh and inviting. Sparkly lip gloss and glitter infused body spray. The sun eclipsed as we lay, oily and warm, on a massage table sheet with strangers hands working the trials and tribulations of the universe from our stress baked muscles.

She left at midnight, determined to fight her way back to the life she had been an active participant in creating.

Eric is on a golf course today. I find myself completely exhausted, worn to a frazzle, and in and out of sleep.  Friday was big and I need to heal from it as though it were a wound that has been stitched back together and now must mend.

My dreams are intense, vivid and alive. The past, this blog, my friend; everything rolls into one. I won't see him until Tuesday. There are lists of things to complete but I sleep. I sleep and I dream......

Saturday, July 16, 2016

The Slap

I've shared bits and pieces of my past with you and with Eric. It's not easy but each time I do, I seem to let go a little more.

There was an assault and I ended up with a black eye from being pounded across the face with an open fist. I recall the strike that popped my blood vessels but then my brain conveniently left my body and stood off to the side, watching as though the girl on the couch was someone unknown to me.

There is a slapping video on a blog that I found intriguing.  It portrays people who have never been slapped or who have never slapped someone else. They take turns slapping each other across the face to see what the reactions would be.

I showed the video to Eric and we had multiple conversations about what it would be like if we tried it. In my head, I imagined being on a rampage full of hurt feelings and accusations about him wanting to leave me; all stories I had concocted as he is clearly telling me on a regular basis that he is not going anywhere.  In my fantasy, rather than letting me go on and on, he slaps me once and stops the madness. We talked it to death. We agreed to try it once. We didn't say when or what the circumstances would be.

Friday, Eric came home from work with a bag full of my all time favorite organic extra large cherries. He told me I was pretty and massaged my skin while scrolling around the internet and looking at all kinds of videos.  Then he undressed me seductively and pulled out our toy chest. He put himself in a vulnerable position, allowing me to "test" a few things on him just to give him a feel for what I will experience when he goes all out.

We have a few bondage items and Eric tied me up with a harness, clipping my ankles together at the foot of the bed. He kissed me passionately, pulled my nipples playfully and placed a new vibrator teasingly between my legs.  I was at his mercy and he studied every reaction I had; physical, emotional and verbal.

"Before I make love to you," he said saddling up to my side, "tell me you started your paper."

I laughed it off. "Ha!" I exclaimed.  "You know I don't care about that dumb...."

He slapped my face.

"Amy Lynn!"

I froze and in my head, I was back on that couch under attack, and then he did it again.

My mind was racing and confused, my body bound and even more helpless than that awful night so many years ago.

Eric looked endearingly into my eyes and watched the fear on my face melt away as we both marveled at the reality of what had just taken place.  He checked in, "You okay, love?" and I nodded, still in shock but feeling a huge horrible weight lifting away from me.

Eric immediately undid all of the restraints and waited for me to decide what was next.  I found his lips and kissed him deeply. I pulled my knees to my chest, opening myself to his body.  Eric reached for the vibrator again and held it solidly on my clit.

"Is this what you do in the closet when I'm gone?" he asked, knowing full well that I do.

"Fuck my butt, honey," I begged, part two of what I do in the closet when he is gone.

Lying on my back, watching the man I love, I fought against the strength of the vibrating wand while Eric lubed his cock and bareback. slid into my ass and rode me, forward facing as though we were making traditional missionary love.

It's been over thirty hours since we both came, yet I'm still in la la land.  The cherries, the vulnerability shared by my husband, being bound, the slap and then a brand new physical experience have me in a place of serenity and contented peace.

We've toyed with the idea of having Eric re-enact all of the trauma of the assault so we can change the ending together. It's risky but we both wonder if it would allow me to truly let it go.  This is not something Eric wants to do; nothing he would enjoy but the man will try anything to help me fully recover. I'm not nearly ready to do it. I'm not even close to wanting to go there. I still can't tell him the whole story, let alone go through it again.

At the same time, I got a taste of what letting go can feel like and what it can do for me.  Eric looked scared to death when he thought he had hurt me but I'm good, really really good.  I didn't detach or run or freak out or regress, but I did let an ancient moment go.  This is a huge step for me. I kept control of my mind and body rather than revert to old ways.

For the record, I feel no need to ever be slapped in a defenseless position again. I do still wonder, though, when I'm crazy-girl overthinking and hollering about something insane, what it would be like for Eric to stop me with one quick slap to my cheek.

Another time.

Yesterday was about freedom from the past. Eric took a risk and it paid off. We both feel rather lucky about that one. We know to be careful with me.

I have hope. One day, there will be no more rearview mirror haunting my mind but instead, I'll be full speed ahead and moving forward with Eric by my side.

It's hard to share some things but there are days when it's even harder to keep them bottled up inside.


Tuesday, July 12, 2016

A good day; amidst all the emotional turmoil

The day started at 1 in the morning with my oldest child telling me he strives to be like Eric. All the questions I ever had about bringing this man into my children's lives, vanished.

Well done role model, mentor and friend. You have become all of those things to him.

My heart glows.

One week ago, my dear friend's long term relationship ended and she is in my ear, in pieces, morning, noon and night.

My heart breaks for her.

My other dear friend got her dream job and is moving in two weeks.

My heart splits; so good for her but lonely for me.

My middle kid is starting down a wildly fun and adventurous road, that is further away from home.

My heart leaps with excitement for him and deflates at the distance.

Tomorrow I have a review at work.

My heart does not trust my boss to hold true to his word and I have completed my end of the bargain.

At noon, I found myself parked in front of the house where I was raped and assaulted.

My heart dog piles emotions. This time my heart stood tall and said NO to another breakdown but I could not reconcile why, at that moment, I found myself in front of that house.

I met the sexiest man on earth for lunch and shared all of the emotions that crowded my brain throughout the day. He truly listened. He gave sound advice. He expressed pride and playful joy. He got me so turned on over pizza, I thought I would have an orgasm by the second piece.

My heart belongs to him. (Yes, I am talking about Eric! Come on people. You know I love that man!)

Tonight I have work, to prepare for tomorrow. Eric is doing dinner elsewhere but we passed in the hallway; both changing clothes for the evening.

"How about a quickie?" I teased.

Eric beamed but said his ride would be there any minute.  "You have to be patient, Amy. Wait until the time is right."

I displayed an over dramatic little girl pout and stomped my foot. "Why are you always so good?!" I whined. Then, mimicking him from earlier, I stated,  "I don't want to be patient!"

(This is especially funny because I suggested salads and sandwiches for lunch, to be on the healthy side, but Eric very cute and matter-of-factly said "I don't want a sandwich," so we got pizza instead.)

"In the closet, young lady," he said locking the bedroom door and pushing me into the tiny dark space. He reached for his belt but grabbed the key to our toy chest from underneath it's buckle and hung it back on the wall.

Lickity split, Eric had his lubed cock in my ass and a vibrating rabbit between my swollen lips while it's ears buzzed along my clit, alternating in time with an intense butt fucking. I swear, it wasn't three minutes and I was cumming; that crazy guttural scream starting to make way from my throat. We both heard the knock and I collapsed to the floor, dizzy while pulsing below but holding my verbal release inside.

"Just lie there and relax for a minute, Pretty Girl," Eric whispered racing out the door, hollering to our guest and dressing on his way down the stairs.

"I love you Amy!" he yelled and was gone.

My heart is still beating fast.

Amidst all the emotional turmoil, it was a very good day.


Sunday, July 10, 2016

The follow through; spanked with his favorite strap


I stood at the tile line where stairs end and kitchen begins, feeling as though I was six years old, with his favorite strap in my hand. He was reading the paper and drinking a cup of coffee.


He looked up and I could tell, he was smiling on the inside even though he kept his face serious and unchanged.

"I finished the list. The picture was posted. The chest has been arranged and all of the toys cleaned.
I put everything back in it's place and I'm here, with this."

I held the strap out, in his direction. He raised his eyebrows and slowly folded the paper, never taking his gaze off my arms that were feeling heavier by the minute.  You'd think that darn strap was made of lead but I didn't dare let it drop to my side.

Eric rose from his seat and walked over to me. He took the strap and gently holding my hand, took me to the couch where he sat and began to remove my shorts.

"Amy, one of the things you asked me to hold you accountable for was keeping things organized so you weren't constantly misplacing and losing them."

I nodded, stepping out of my clothes and swallowing the lump of truth caught in my throat.

"I made a promise to you, to keep you accountable and to discipline you when necessary. Do you remember that promise?"

This was not a fantasy role play, not a reset, and not erotic. This was Eric, calling me on the carpet for exactly what I had asked him to make sure I did. It felt horrible and wonderful all at the same time. Horrible because I truly had been slipping; thinking I'd get to this or that later and then never going back. It was wonderful because he was coming through like a champ; taking my request seriously and in turn, holding to his word.

"I'm going to have to spank you, Sweetheart," he said and the words filled my heart with peace and my stomach with knots. "You know I don't want to do this," he continued. "I planned to have a playful round with our implements this morning but when we couldn't find my favorite strap, that all went out the window."

I actually thought I was going to cry. It felt so real, the disappointment in his voice and the letting go of what would have been a silly day for something else.

I couldn't speak but just nodded and he guided my body across his lap.  The strap hurt more than I recall from prior spankings as Eric was steady and unrelenting with every strike.  I lost count at ten, maybe because my cheeks were on fire or maybe because he took a moment to remind me that I was the one who had asked to be held to task.

Eric continued to spank me until I was kicking my legs, apologizing and promising to do a better job. Then he put me in the corner to think about how easy it would have been just to put everything away the minute I was done with it, rather than hold off until "whenever".

After a bit in the corner, Eric handed me his favorite strap and asked if I knew what to do with it. Any other day, a smart remark would have surely escaped my lips but instead, I answered with a very simple and soft spoken "Yes Sir," and then headed upstairs to put it back in the chest.

Eric's coming to bed shortly and I hope we'll spend most of the night kissing and caressing each other. We've had ttwd experiences before but this was different. As a result, there is a very solid secure sweetness between us right now. Yes, I screwed up. It was minor and on a life scale, unimportant. Even so, he came through. Strong and firm, he was there for me and suddenly I feel an entirely new closeness.

There is deeper trust.



The PK Challenge - oh boy, did I pay for this one!

We looked at PK's implement post. Lots of fun things from other bloggers. We checked out the Rose family arsenal. The spaghetti thing still looks scary to me! We got in the mood for some spanking fun.

We retrieved a red table cloth, his belt came off the wall and we opened the chest. Out came the blind wand, Sir Strap, the slotted spoon.  The bull whip returned, paddles and the crop. They all lined up bringing back wonderful memories.  The chest emptied and we stood back, surveying our belongings.

"Where's my favorite strap?" Eric asked, a tad alarmed.

I raced back to the chest. Nothing but a few cuffs and some toys.

"Where did we use it last?!" I exclaimed.

Eric gave me that look.

"AMY!" he said sternly. "How many times do I need to tell you to put things away where they belong?"

There are few things that Eric finds frustrating about me but this would be top on the list. I am very organized and have a place for everything - it's just difficult for me to get things returned to said "place".

Eventually, we found it. Buried under a sweater that had been left on a shelf in the closet months ago; also not in it's correct location.

Eric had me take the photo and then I was escorted to the restroom and told to get on all fours, naked. Naturally, what I wanted was the spanking, but no. Eric was truly not happy. He had me spread my cheeks and inserted a Fleet Enigma; lecturing the whole time.

"When you get in trouble, you don't get to pick your punishment. Obviously I've been slacking on the discipline side and as I look around, you've got stuff randomly strewn all over this room."

My bottom full, Eric ordered me to finish what I started.
1. Write the post
2. Organize the chest and put all of our implements EXCEPT his favorite away
3. Clean the rest of the closet up
4. Bring his favorite strap to him

Well ladies, today is not exactly turning out the way I expected.

Say good-bye to clutter and hello to a red ass. I'm sure I'll have more to blog tomorrow.


Saturday, July 9, 2016

Women, ttwd, computer love - a metaphor for men

Willie inspired me to think differently.
"Think like a man," she challenged.
Okay men, see if this makes sense...

Remember the day you first saw me on the shelf? I was sleek, shiny and new. 

You checked me out and the more intrigued you became, the more you wanted to turn me on.
When you did, I glowed and became down right radiating.

 Image result for sexy computer screen saver

Time was lost on you as you scrolled through my files, discovering shortcuts to hidden icons, which buttons to push and which buttons would cause me to crash. You loved tinkering with me, boosting my hard drive and filling my memory banks. (Is that what you call it these days? Ha ha.) 

Image result for sexy computer screen saver

Eventually, I became yours and we had daily interaction. You did your best to protect me, firewalls and anti-virus software. You performed installation updates regularly and on occasion, bought sexy shatter proof cases to ensure I would never get broken.


Sometimes I would slow down, my desktop too crowded and a drive or two almost full.  Every 
once in awhile, you'd find I wouldn't turn on no matter what you tried. It could take weeks before 
I was fixed and even then, there was always the threat of that angry blue screen; 
the horror-moan virus having popped up again. 

Image result for computer spanking
Image result for computer crash blue screen

Files would grow too big, data plans explode with an overload of media and noise
from the outside world and my screen would dim; folders stuffed with outdated
junk mail and spam infecting even the best programs. 

The worst was when I looked like me and sounded like me, but behaved so erratically
it was as though I was possessed. Hacked. Time for a reset. 

With all of the love and skill in the world, only you can restore me to my
factory settings. We both know that intense moment of shutting me down and taking me
back to the beginning won't permanently wipe away any of the old programming
but it does reinstall a peaceful euphoria to the core of my central processing unit. 

Image result for 100 guarantee

ttwd - it's merely a maintenance contract to keep
your equipment functioning properly and your warranty intact.


Thursday, July 7, 2016

No panties - tricked into an otk spanking!

Eric is a huge fan of nothing.

And by nothing, I mean what I wear on my body.

Before we could be married, he explained his one non-negotiable was "no clothes to bed, ever".

I used to wear pj's to bed. Now I don't.

During the day, I wear panties no matter what I have on.

I always have.

He's teased, challenged. coaxed, begged, and flat out told me to take them off once in awhile when I wear a dress.  He never wears boxers with jeans. Jeans mean, it's going to be a good day. :)

Today we met for lunch and as we walked into the restaurant, he smacked my behind and his eyes got huge.

"Are you wearing panties?!" he asked.

I flashed him under the table. We had to wait until his boner went down to leave. (Boo ya!)

Tonight, I behaved even though I could have dived into a vat of ice cream instead.
My closest friend got second interview and might be moving. Happy for her but sad for me.
Rather than stress, I congratulated her and went on a hike with my other friend (Lost love but finally making smart choices - so relieved.)

Anyway, I came home sweating and tired from the exercise and long emotionally draining day.

"Amy, come over here right NOW," Eric said as I stepped from the shower. He was seated on the spanking chair and that darn folded leather strap was in his hand.

I crawled across his lap. He tapped at my cheeks while he lectured me about spending a day at work without any panties on.  The nerve of that man!! Then he lit my ass on fire while I kicked and squirmed and hollered about the travesty of being convinced to go out in public wearing nothing underneath, only to be punished for it later.

Smug and content, he spanked me a few more times and then made love to me right there on the floor. Apparently the four feet to our bed was just too far.

Now I'm under the covers, naked of course, with a sore bottom and happy heart.  That little trickster - he sure knows how to play me like a fiddle... and I LOVE IT.


Wednesday, July 6, 2016

Out on a limb - the naughty dream I don't know what to do with

We traveled for his job and there was a banquet dinner.
I burst with pride standing next to him.
Tall, handsome, blue eyed man
with a heart of gold and an
easy smooth gentlemanly
way about him.

The other wives are everything I am not.

Beautiful confident svelte women
with perfect hair, clothes, jewelry and teeth.
Their conversations are witty and light,
with an edge of grace and strength
mixed into their worldly experiences.

I am, as they say, out of my league.
Feeling small and insecure, shy like I was absent the day everyone learned to be grown up.

We went to the spa in the hotel before the event and a gorgeous 30 something Brazilian girl at the make-up counter did my face. Her eyes flashed green with a sparkle of gold flecks as she worked just inches from my nose. Her auburn hair was silky and framed her face perfectly, highlighting thick lips outlined with a shade of burgundy.

She tucked my hair behind my ear, the way Eric does when he's lost in our gaze.

He saw it and I felt it. Her hand went under my chin, lifting my face as she puffed and painted away wrinkles and lines of wear and tear. Her words were to him, but all about me.

"She is beautiful, no? Look at these lips. Just something to glisten.  Gorgeous eyes, we highlight their color. Rosie cheeks. We don't change a thing!"

Eric watched intently as she took what was naturally tarnished and mine, and made it shine.

When she finished, to both our surprise, she grasped my face in her hands and planted a huge kiss on my lips.

"You are ready," she exclaimed.

Eric paid and we left, laughing as he questioned what service he was actually buying.

The dinner was lovely, the other wives not nearly as intimidating as I had imagined.

We curled up in bed and the last thing Eric said before I drifted off in his arms was, "It was a huge turn on when that girl kissed you, honey."

I've never been attracted to women nor have I ever wanted to go down that road even as an experiment.

The dream:

We were back at the hotel after the banquet and I was being lead down the hall by the back of the arm for snagging the keys from the ignition and tossing them out the window. I thought it was hysterical however, Eric was not amused.  He took me in our room and lectured me as I bent across the desk, holding on while my dress was hiked above my waist and my panties were pulled to my knees.

"They could have gone in a drain," he said, slowly removing his belt so I could distinctly hear the leather slide from loop to loop.

Fifteen times, he laid that thin stingy belt across my bottom and then, flipping it around, struck me three times with the buckle side.  My ass was on fire and tears flowed down my cheeks.

In the first moment of silence, there was a small knock at the door.  Quickly Eric put me in the corner out of view and then went to see who had come by.

It was her, the girl from the spa. In her hand, she held a small gift bag, a promo item she had forgotten to give us earlier that evening. Eric thanked her and then they walked into the room where I was standing.

My body went flush as I cringed, hearing her words, "I didn't take you for a bad girl. Let me see what he did to you."

The woman came to the corner and when I turned to look in her direction, her hands were back on my face. They manipulated my head, at attention once more so the wall and a small mirror was all I could see. Immediately, I latched onto Eric's reflection.  He nodded his approval to me as I stood, shaking, while the woman slowly undid the zipper on my dress and pulled it from my shoulders to the floor. Her finger nails danced their way down my back and I shivered while she traced the marks left by the belt and it's buckle. She kissed the welts and my eyes bore into the mirror at Eric, who stood protective and reassuring.

The dream skipped around a bit then.  I was on the bed, strapped to it, with Eric holding me by the hair and kissing my mouth passionately. My legs were spread and as he worked his tongue between my lips and teeth, she did the same down below. Eric became rock hard and crouched over me, fucking my mouth with his cock while she mimicked his movements on my clit. I was glowing, every ounce of my body burning up and preparing to orgasm in raw wild waves. I was almost there when she stopped, stood to the side and said, "It is time, Eric. She is ready."

My body was prepped and ripe, juicy and wet, full and warm.  Eric and I ground our hips back and forth, up and down; our hands pressed together, our chests pressed together, our bodies as one.

He came. I came. We were incredible.

I woke up panting.

I don't know what to do with this dream.


Why do I need permission so badly?

I am a grown woman.

I have a job, attend school, gave birth to children and raised them.

I make my own money, maintain our home.

I don't cook, yet somehow I always manage to eat.

I would say I am independent, intelligent and not so pretty (though some would differ).
Seems I'm not so smart after-all. (Ha ha. Bologna in my shoes.)

I have loads of responsibility, many that I inflict upon myself,
because I enjoy growing and thriving and doing and giving and sharing and loving.

I am perfectly capable of handling everything in the world on my own, so there.

"Go to bed, Amy."
"You can cum now. I want you to have a good cum tonight Amy."
"Stop it."
"Yes, you may."
"Do something for you."
"Get your homework done, young lady."
"You are not doing that thing that will tank you that isn't about you that you won't say no to."

I melt.

Sometimes, it's just so nice to be told to do what deep down you really want to do.

"Go get my belt, young lady. I'm going to redden that ass."

Yes, yes, yes.


Tuesday, July 5, 2016

Eric51Amy49 turns one... Name your favorite post!

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One year ago, we took a chance and posted our thoughts about DD.

We met Wilma and Susie
then Blondie
the list goes on and on.

Thank you all for sharing in our year of exploration, stretching and thriving.

This thing we do has brought 
from around the world
and a closeness between us
that we never imagined possible.

Join our celebration by naming your favorite post!

From a place of love,
Amy (and Eric)

Monday, July 4, 2016

Red, White or Blue?

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"Red, white or blue?" asked Mr. Patriotic while getting ready to go to his 4th of July work picnic.

"Huh?" I was lost. "It's red, white and blue. Just wear a red and white shirt with your blue shorts."

He laughed.

"I wasn't asking about my clothes, Amy.  I was talking about your ass."

That familiar tickle of excitement ran up my spine as my body jolted to attention.

"What do you mean?" I asked, hesitantly eager.

"When you come home tomorrow. Red, white or blue? Exactly how much trouble are you in?"

I'm exhausted, having spent days talking my friend through her break up while still fighting feelings of rejection in my own situation.  The paper that is due tomorrow has not been started. The house was a disaster when I left and work is slipping, or rather, I am slipping at work. Exercise, healthy eating; I'm 100% on and 100% off depending on the mood of the meal.

An avid flirt, I responded, "Like I said, it's red, white and blue."

My bottom tingled and I went squishy, anticipation on the rise.

Happy Birthday America.

I volunteer to take all 240 of your birthday spankings!

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