At the other end of the spectrum from yesterday’s large, village cottage is this tiny, rural cabin. I currently live in a small, humble apartment in a medium sized city. I’d gladly downsize to this quaint, cute place (as long as the bedroom could accommodate my king-sized bed). This place seems larger because of the outdoor space. I could see me slathering my nude body with sunblock, wearing a wide-brimmed hat, and gardening in this lovely space all day every day. Hubby would sit down on the bench outside our front door and spank me as a reminder to behave all day, just as he leaves for work. (Having probably spanked me when we first woke up as inspiration for quickie.) Then he’d come home in the late afternoon, and I’d have a meal prepared of fresh vegetables from our garden, and fresh cut flowers on the table. And we’d spend every evening reading together and frolicking, with him spanking me languidly late into the night, making love for hours, making the little cabin walls quake with our loud rapture. There are no neighbors to hear us, so for round two, he’d lead me by the hand outside, and we’d fuck on a bed of flowers under the star-filled sky.
I long to exercise my green thumb, while my man exercises my red bum, all of it outdoors in the sunshine or the moon glow.