#229) Presenting for Him

We’d just shared a delicious meal at our favorite expensive restaurant to commemorate the one year anniversary of our dating one another. It was novelle cuisine, so the portions were not large, just exquisitely presented small, but mouth-watering courses of food. Therefore my senses were invigorated, but I wasn’t bloated. I was replete, my body’s appetite sated. Now I wanted to address my soul’s hunger.
We were walking hand-in-hand back to his car a block away, dusk was falling. I pulled at him, stopping him short on the sidewalk.
“I need you to know that I am yours completely,” I told him, letting the slight desperation I felt invade my voice.
“I know that, darling,” Clive responded. I’m sure that he assumed that we would go back to our apartment, he would playfully spank me there, then fuck me good and hard, and we would sleep in each other’s arms. As affirming as all that seemed, it also seemed too tame and pedestrian for my intense feelings.
Clive resumed strolling down the street, taking my one hand in both of his to telegraph his affection. I pulled at him again.
“No. I need you to know it! To know that anywhere, anytime, I am yours completely!”
He smiled indulgently, kissed my mouth with a peck of respectability. “I know. I love you, Jeanie.”
“Show me, show the world,” I said. I bent over deeply at the waist in his path. I flipped my skirt up onto my now flat back. Clive saw that I wasn’t wearing any underclothes. My bare and needy buttocks were on full display. “Spank me. Here in public. Dominate me. Please, I need this…”
What was light and carefree was now serious and dark with my demand. Clive is much more conservative than I. Public displays of affection were outside his usual comfort zone. To say nothing of public displays of discipline. I grabbed my ankles, wiggled my round rump provocatively at him. I often Top from the bottom when in the privacy of our bedroom. But we weren’t in our bedroom; we were downtown in the big city half an hour from our small town. It wasn’t likely that we would run into anyone we knew, but it wasn’t impossible either. Clive is a high-priced legal consultant, surrounded by stuffy conservative Republicans. He gave me two, moderately smart swats, one on each cheek, and started to pull my skirt back into place.
“No! Show them all that you own me, lover. Take your belt off and give me a short but satisfying beating. Please…!”
It was clear that I wasn’t going anywhere. And that if he didn’t comply with my desires, he wouldn’t be getting fucked for a good while.
Clive did as I requested. But he wasn’t happy about it. He put his ire into the doubled-up belt thrashing. The first lick made my eyes grow wide. I had to open my legs to take a wider stance to absorb the stout strokes across my ass. He didn’t stop at a few cracks. He gave my butt a good whipping, a beating to match our recent repast. It was not a huge helping, but very well executed, leaving me quite happy and warmed. I think I got twelve or fifteen hard lashes. I stood up, blinking back tears and unable to keep from rubbing my screaming tushy through my now lowered skirt.
“Did you enjoy that?” he asked, biting his words off.
“Yes, Sir! Thank you, Sir!” He didn’t retake my hand, so I let it go exploring and caressed the fly-region of his trousers. I found him turgid but not ragingly erect. I rubbed him there, while still rubbing my backside. “I don’t think you enjoyed it as much as I did, however…” I stopped short and re-assumed my submissive posture, bending full over and sticking my freshly thrashed ass out, raising my skirt once more. “Don’t you love my ass anymore?”
“You know I do,” he replied curtly.
“Then show it, show me, show the world,” I begged. “Spank my sore butt for me. Make me your bitch. Own me. For all to see…”
I think angry Clive realized that spanking my welted bottom would hurt like holy hell, and so he immediately took me to task, spanking me very hard, briskly, taking my breath away. Suddenly it became hot for both of us. He whaled the tar out of me right there on the evening street. When he had worn my poor tush out, he seized me by the arm and stood me up to look him in the eye.
“Had enough?”
“Yes, Sir,” I responded honestly, then continued, “Of your hand. I need your cock!” I pulled him into an alleyway. “Fuck me, lover…”
I was pleased that Clive didn’t hesitate in the least. He pulled one of my legs up to open me to him, as he unzipped his fly. In a trice he was in me, impaling me, pinning me to a brick wall, thrusting into me hard and fast. I threw my head back and cried out. Clive put his hand over my mouth and just kept fucking. It was the hand that had belabored my bottom with punishment. His hand was very hot on my mouth. His cock was so big and stiff and punishing in my sex, the brick wall just as punishing to my butt as every thrust slammed it against that rough reality. I came. Hard. Harder than I have in a long time. In all my memory. I felt as though I had emptied myself to be his fuck toy, that I was not a school teacher or a former model or even fully human. I was his, I was his whore, I was his pain whore. He had spanked me and strapped me, and spanked my strapped ass, and fucked me, all of it in plain view in public on a busy city street. No one seemed to notice, but anyone could have, which made me feel as though I’d gotten away with something. I’d emptied myself to be a vessel for his punishment, his lust, and his cum. I never felt so complete and satisfied and fully alive in my life.
We were at his car on the metered street. He opened my door and helped me inside because my legs were trembling from the fucking. He threw his belt into the backseat (which I didn’t realize he still had in his hand), leaned down close, and said in my face, “If you leak one drop of sexual fluid from your pretty cunt onto that leather car seat, I’m going to give you a belt whipping that’ll make your last one seem like I was tickling you.”
I pulled my knees up, so that my butt wasn’t even in contact with the car seat, so that I was sitting on my lower back, and pressed my hand over my pussy lips. “Yes, Sir,” I whispered. His is a well designed sportscar, Clive is an expert driver. He drove very fast on the winding roads. I would’ve loved to lean over and take his cock in my mouth, suck him until he was hard again, suck him until he came again. But the active gear shifting was in the way. So I expressed my submissive love in words.
“That fucking was the single best one of my life! That orgasm the most mind-blowing I’ve ever experienced! I think I left some of my sanity back in that alley…” I looked over at Clive. He smiled. I continued. “If you’re mad at me for goading you into those public displays, I give you permission to punish me just as hard as you like when we get home. Spank me again, use your belt on me, the tawse, the cane, all of them one right after the other… But I loved what we just shared, the dinner, the discipline, the fuck. I’ll remember this night fondly as one of superlatives for the rest of my life. And I’m not sorry.”
We were home, the garage door closed behind us after we pulled in. Clive came around to open my car door and help me out.
“Any cum on your precious car seat?” I asked with a slight note of attitude in my voice.
Clive turned me over the hood of the car with a force that spun my skirt up, and gave my bottom a series of really stinging spanks They hurt incredibly, but I arched my lower back to offer my ass out, to show that I‘d take more, if that’s what he wanted.
Instead he kneaded my tender flesh, parted me, looked at the damage he’d done to my ass. He spit on my brown spot and fingered the moisture into my tightness. Then he got out his cock and spit on the one-eyed monster. I knew what was to come. I wanted it to be the second best fuck of my life, and the very best one up my ass. So, I laid over the car hood and tried to relax, tried not to think about how much more enjoyable this would be in our bedroom, where there was a big bottle of lubricant next to the fluffy big bed. I closed my eyes and felt him push against my private, most intimate recess. I admitted him into where he didn’t really belong, where it was far too small for his big thing, where it was designed to be an exit, where such deeds were sinful and forbidden and wrong, but where the tight space would naturally sheath his sword in a warm hug. With so little lube, it was difficult going, it hurt a bit, but it also was mind-blowingly revelatory and incomparably dirty and so fucking much fun.
A voice that sounded like it should come from Linda Blair in “The Exorcist” growled, “Oh, fuck my ass for me, lover! Fuck my dirty ass deep!”
Clive did, spanking me mercilessly as he thrust into me and pulled out, over and over and over, making me curse and beg and howl with pleasure.
“Yes! Make me your dirty whore! Fuck my ass like a cheap whore! Yes! Fuck me hard! Make… me…!” And I climaxed. If the last one in my vagina felt like I had kissed the face of God, this one felt like I tongue-reamed the Devil’s anus. It burned. Was that smell in the air that of my singed flesh? It felt like he’d split me in two. I was crying, but they were partly tears of joy because my lover had drained his testicles, climaxing within my deep recesses without any reserve or reservation. Now! Now I truly was marked as his property across my ass, filled with his ejaculate, filled to the brim with his love and my submission and our identity as kinky lovers, and now branded on the ember that was my ass hole as his.

9 responses to “#229) Presenting for Him”

    • I LOVE getting my readers off, each and every one. I wish more readers were as communicative, like you are, Christian. (I have so many lurkers!) I’m standing here naked and aroused (as I always am when I write here), and you’re there “so hard.” I’m going to close my eyes and relieve myself; will you do the same, and climax with me across the miles? On your mark, get set, go…

      Liked by 3 people

  1. I wish I had the freedom to sit around naked and masturbate while working on my stories. My living situation doesn’t really allow it currently. I definitely touch my cock through my pants as I’m writing however. I love doing that. Sometimes, when I’m working on a story at work at the end of the day I pull it out when most people are gone. It’s a hot, low risk, but semi-public way to do it. Sometimes I wear butt plugs to work or when I’m writing at home. I get so worked up when I do that. It’s hard not to want to cum. I love thinking about you playing with yourself as you work on your kinky posts! 😜

    Liked by 2 people

    • I don’t know if you meant to throw shade, erosprism; I’ll assume the best about you and think not. But I will explain a bit about me (though I need to keep my personal life personal). It has been two years from hell for teachers. At the start of this one, my principal asked me to do her a favor. I don’t get along with her, so didn’t feel like I could say no. She asked me to cover what our district set-up where students would learn virtually all year, no matter how the virus changed things. So, as I conduct class in taped segments and wait for students to turn in homework & projects, I have some time to myself. It’s easy to throw on a robe if on-camera (from my collarbone up), and then shrug it off when writing, editing, posting on this blog. It has been more work than I could’ve imagined to teach in this way. I hate it! I started this blog as a way to do something for me, even though it added to my workload. I even do a part-time job because teaching doesn’t pay well enough. So I am EXHAUSTED! But I carry-on because this blog feeds me. Please, everybody, just be kind when dealing with others; you don’t know the burden each of us is secretly carrying!
      Warmly,
      Jean Marie

      Liked by 1 person

      • I absolutely wasn’t trying to throw shade. I genuinely wish I had the same opportunity to write nude, semi-nude, etc. as you. I think it’s great. Sorry if I came off otherwise. That was not my intention. Thanks for filling me in on your situation. Sorry that it has been such a tough time. I’ve heard similar things from other teaching friends. I’m sure it has been very frustrating and exhausting. Best of luck with that and I hope things ease up at some point. Have a good one.

        Liked by 1 person

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