#224) Mother’s Day 2022

I don’t know if I have readers who are also mothers. If so, Happy Mother’s Day! That is a joy that I probably won’t experience. I’ve written about it before, in particular the incredible changes the female body undergoes for nine months and then during this miraculous event. (Not about the years that become decades of challenges that follow…)
Back in posting #32, I published my favorite Birdfish portrait (see below) and spun a story about it. I fantasized that they were college graduate students, in the first blush of love, just discovering their common interest in spanking.
The characters still live in my imagination; let’s name them Theodore and Olivia, Ted and Livi. Their innate goodness, common sense, deep and abiding love, and the spark of regular spankings have kept them growing together through the years. Ted spanked Livi on their wedding night, then they made sweet love expressed through intercourse that was both delicate and decadent by turns. He spanks her frequently; it thrills them both every time. They make passionate love after every session of impact play. So, now at thirty years of age, Livi finds herself joyously pregnant. Ted knows that she’ll be a caring and patient and understanding and wonderful mother. They have no idea what lies in store in their future, but they know that they’ll face it as a team of individuals, two unique souls that are stronger in their union. They’re a couple, male and female, Top and bottom, his yin to her yang, who communicate with seeming ease by long talks and silent glances and sound spanks. She is pictured above in her seventh month and gives new meaning to the terms Lady Madonna and radiantly beautiful. She’s asked Ted not to put her across his knee anymore, rather to spank her as she bends over or kneels on their bed, just until the birth. In the same way, fearing hemorrhoids, she doesn’t want him to fuck her up the ass for now. So he tongues her there, sometimes late into the night, bringing her to some of the most intense orgasms of her life. And when she cums, when she’s shuddering and stuttering and no longer of this world, Livi calls out her favorite mantra. It’s not “Oh God,” or “Fuck!” or anything so common. Livi gasps, “I love you!” over and over. She has every time, ever since their first time, just after that first spanking that Birdfish depicted. It didn’t bother Ted back then; it warms him now. Every time.
Maybe I’ll write about them again when they are empty-nesters in twenty years or so. At fifty years young, I’m sure that Ted will still find Livi endlessly fascinating, find her marvelous big bottom the seat of her intense sexuality and incredible sensuality.

One response to “#224) Mother’s Day 2022”

  1. It occurred to me, as I was enjoying a leisurely masturbation session this lazy Sunday morning (my religious observance these days, but I’m devout; I don’t just practice on Sundays) that almost all mothers are fuckers. Except for the few who have artificial insemination, all mothers had to fuck to get pregnant. So, along with cheering-on all wankers ( with a nod to “Ted Lasso”), today we honor all fuckers!

    Liked by 2 people

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