#383) Roasting All Over the Northern West Coast

I’ve enjoyed writing four previous stories set in earlier time periods and centering on Dominance and submission in varying forms. Now I’d like to publish one set in the modern day.
We needed a vacation! Even though it was blisteringly hot outside this summer, even though airplane flights were crazy due to cancellations, car rentals difficult, and gas prices sky high, we needed a vacation. We needed it as a new couple that desired to establish a solid foundation for our fledgling relationship with warm memories and the support of family and friends. We decided to go to San Francisco, where we had both. We’d spend some time in the city itself with Rick’s folks, and then some time with my old college roommate and her family in a rural setting.
I love San Francisco! (Even during a heatwave/drought!) It has so much more mellow an atmosphere than other Left Coast cities, particularly L.A. I especially love its restaurants. I was eager to eat out, try as many new eateries as we could. We stayed in a bed and breakfast place, but didn’t choose to eat there for our first meal in the City by the Bay.
“Let’s go get some dim sum for breakfast,” Rick suggested.
“I’m up for that!” I returned, “but don’t you want to spank me and fuck me first?”
“We can do that anytime,” he said.
My mouth fell open. It sounded like he was already taking the special kink that brought us together, that made us so strong for granted. It sounded like he was taking me and my big booty for granted. I was stunned, but I tried to hide my hurt, just got ready with my lover in the same small bathroom. No matter what I did in my morning routine, a funk hung over me. We walked outside into the clear sunshine, but it felt overcast inside my head. I decided that I had to say something.
“Listen, buster,” I started diplomatically, “we have no set agenda for this little vacay getaway!”
“Yep, ain’t it great!”
“So, we always start our day with a sound spanking and an energetic fuck! What gives?”
“I just thought that we could forego our usual routine so as to maximize our time here doing things we can’t do at home.”
“Up to a point, that’s fine! But not sacrificing our special bond!” I bent over on the sidewalk. “I love your spankings!” I flipped my short skirt up. “I need your spankings!” I pulled my underwear down. “I can get by without the sex until later, but I have to have a spanking this instant!”
“Someone will see!” Rick admonished, trying to pull my pants back up.
“I want them to! In this wonderfully liberal city, odds are that anybody seeing us will be kinky and approve!” I fought his hands away and stuck my bare butt out once more.
“We could get arrested, Wren!”
“Then we’d be fighting an unjust law, like any responsible citizen should!” I said, suddenly sounding like some political activist. “I won’t be ‘indecently exposed’ if you’ll just spank me!” Then I waggled it about a bit and added the oft-used phrase, “It ain’t gonna spank itself, Rick…”
He gave up fighting me and joined in the fun, spanking me right there on the street, the sound of the loud smacks reverberating off the buildings, ricocheting around. I guess I’d made him mad; Rick spanked me very hard. It was more invigorating than an aerobics work-out, more energizing than any pink battery-run bunny, sexier than anything I know. I stood up, rubbing the burning sensation, then pulled my panties up and smiled at my lover.
“See? That wasn’t so tough. Thank you!”
“I’d reply with ‘any time’ but I’d be afraid that you’d take me literally and demand a spanking everywhere…”
“Hey, there’s an idea…! Rick, no one knows us here. We can do it quick, before anybody notices. Come on, it’ll be fun, it’ll be sexy, I’ll fuck your eyeballs out tonight…”
So we had dim sum for brunch, and after the waitress returned our change from the bill, I leaned over the table, pulled my panties down, and Rick gave me three good swats. I took a cell phone selfie of the damage on my reddened rump with the table still laden with all the dishes we’d tasted. Then we ran out of there. We drove down Lombard Street, but its thrills didn’t compare to our PDA, public display of ass.
Our second “hit-and-run” was at Chuck’s Takeaway for a late lunch of tremendous sandwiches. Again, after the meal was wrapped up, I bared my butt, Rick spanked it, I took a quick photo, and we ran. We visited several museums during the afternoon, which might sound boring to you, but you’re not a teacher. I was having a ball.
“Which one for a seafood dinner, Sotto Mare or Pacific Cafe?” Rick asked.
“Which is the more snooty and will be more offended by the spectacle of my big butt getting a beating?” I asked with a smile.
“Well, the really snooty restaurant is Chapeau! which we have reservations for tomorrow night. That’s where we’re taking my parents out to eat…”
“That will be tougher to pull off,” I commented.
“That one should be off-limits!”
“I’ll case the joint, then decide,” I answered enjoying feeling like an outlaw. “As for tonight, let’s try Sotto Mare. It’s very highly rated!”
The food there was sublime, the service was superb, the atmosphere quiet and stately, at least until, on our way out the door, I stopped, bent over. Rick did the honors of lifting my skirt and yanking my undies into the crack of my ass. Three cracks rang out in quick succession. I took a butt selfie. Then we were out the door, back outside into the heat, giggling and turned-on.
On the drive back to our B and B, Rick stopped off at a drug store, told me to wait in the car with the A/C on, and came back a few minutes later with a small bag.
“What did you get?”
“It’s a surprise.” He stored it in a flap in his driver’s side door. Otherwise, I would’ve found the opportunity to peek inside the bag of goodies.
“Uh-oh! Am I in trouble?”
“Good trouble,” he replied and kissed me.
“Can I have a hint?”
“…Okay… You convinced me to do this spanking game by promising to fuck my eyeballs out tonight… I just want to make sure that it’s memorable for both of us.”
I was intrigued. I was also wet and ready for anything. We got back to our place. Rick made me stand still as he took my clothing off. When I was in only my bra and panties, he finally spoke.
“Do you know the toughest part of the spanking game you came up with?”
“No, sir…”
“It’s that I only get to see, caress, appreciate, spank this lovely bottom briefly,” he answered as he drew my underwear down. “But now I’m going to do all those things for a long time… You are in for a long, hard spanking, young lady!”
“Yes, sir.”
Rick made me feel loved. And he made me very sore. It was a long, very hard spanking, by the end of which, I was squirming and so randy, I could not see straight. He moved me from his lap to kneeling on the bed on all fours, then took off his necktie and wrapped it around my head as a blindfold. Being sightless made all the other sensations heightened exponentially. Rick spanked me some more. He took his cock out and teased my wet slit with it.
“You only get one vaginal orgasm before we do something else, so make it count…”
I waggled my fanny at him in the way I love to do, saying, “Whatever shall we do next, I wonder…”
He fucked me, right from the start it was brutally intense. I wanted to hold my climax off for a while, but was completely unable to do so. Even while I was still cumming and crying-out, Rick began lubing-up my rectum. I came some more. Then I heard that drug store bag being opened. I heard indistinct noises that I couldn’t identify, though my hearing was straining and my brain working overtime. He pried my buttocks apart wide. I love this feeling, knowing that my lover is looking up my anus, loving what he’s seeing, with both of us over-brimming with anticipation.
His lubricating finger was in me back there again, but something’s different. I smelled a strange scent, then felt it. My anus started to tingle. Then it started to burn. Really burn! I mean, can’t hold still, can’t keep quiet burn up my butt, the same as eating the hottest of chili peppers.
“Wha… what is that? That really burns, Rick? What did you put up there!?”
I felt his cock pressing against me there. It’s impossible to relax like I wanted to with this intense sensation raging in my private-most place. He pressed, nonetheless, entering me, taking me, possessing me. Sensation upon sensation flow over me, flood my brain and tactile receptors, but omnipresent was the one of being butt fucked, dominated in the most primal manner. Even though I’m in pain, my pump has been primed, and being the true submissive I am, I know that this will only feed my orgasm. I came, a screaming, cursing, mind-blowing orgasm. What I can’t understand is why whatever he anointed my rectum with didn’t burn Rick’s cock just as bad, and what that vaguely familiar scent I smelled was…
My orgasm had taken all the starch out of me. Rick continued the old in-and-out until he climaxed in me, and we collapsed in a heap on the bed. I whipped the necktie blindfold off and searched for that bag and its contents.
Of course, it was Ben Gay ointment. My dad used to use it on his aging, sore muscles. I knew that I remembered its scent! I looked up at Rick who was smiling broadly, and he was wearing a condom, something he hadn’t done with me since the time we met months ago.
“Well, was it memorable?” he asked.
“Yes, just like if you’d attached electrodes in me there…” I answered. I got up to take a shower. It’s heavenly to work a soapy finger up there. Rick joined me in the stall, he took over pleasuring me, then knelt and licked me there. I’m surprised that I have it in me, but I built up to another climax. I never slept so soundly in my life.
Just like in a dream, Rick awoke me with a patty-cake spanking composed of love pats that he built and built and built until I’m really getting a hiding and loving every second of it. Then he was in me, in the missionary position, looking lovingly in my eyes. It was one of the sweetest fucks we’d ever shared, followed by a morning wandering around Ghirardelli Square doing touristy things and eating far too much rich chocolate for breakfast.
We went to another well-rated restaurant for lunch, Old Skool Café.
My belly was full, now it was time to address my other hunger.
“You said that the fault of our spanking game was its brevity,” I intimated to my lover across the table. “We haven’t been caught, stopped, questioned, arrested… Who says it has to be brief and rushed? Spank me, Rick,” I stated louder than usual, so all around would know that I instigated it. I didn’t see any children in our vicinity, so we wouldn’t be corrupting the young, impressionable minds. I bent over the tablecloth, my linen pants and lacy underpants were lowered by a smirking brat who was clearly just plain asking for it. I stuck my ass up into his face and said the magic words again, “Spank me, lover, I need it!”
Rick followed my lead. It was an unhurried, even languid punishment, the perfect follow-up to the one he gave me at first light.
I parted my cheeks, and asked, “Is my butt hole still red from your abuse?”
“No,” he replied, and gave me a spank up the ass crack.
All around us were faces frozen in embarrassment, as if they had been made party to an intimate act. I quickly pulled up my drawers and didn’t feel ’embarrassed’ in the least. I was no longer ‘bare-assed’, and it was intimacy at its best. We ran out into the street with our record in tact of no foul balls called and lots of strikes smoked into me.
Rick had told me that his parents were ultra-liberal, sexually liberated, comfortably wealthy, very cool people. With another couple I might not have been so bold, but given this information, I’d purchased a couture gown to wear to meet them, a sexy black number that was anything but basic. It had cut-out areas around my breasts, exposing nothing but seeming very daring simultaneously. I secured it in place with the special double-sided tape that they use at the award shows, so famous women won’t expose anything risqué on national television. Rick clearly liked it when I showed it to him just before we left, Rick’s Dad, Mr. Rogers, clearly liked it when we first met judging by the size of his large eyes, the maître d’ at Chapeau! clearly liked it by the rapidity with which we were seated at a great table.
This restaurant was unique, with very choice cuisine in a casual atmosphere. As I was getting to know them, I grew to like Rick’s parents, though his father was easier to become close with because he was more outspoken. Within five minutes of being there and in conversation, I leaned close to Rick and confided in him.
“This isn’t the time or place, so relax, we won’t play our spanking game here tonight.”
But not sixty minutes later, damned if Rick didn’t bring the subject of spanking up in table conversation. We’d had a wonderful meal and lively repartee. I sensed that Mr. Rogers was an Alpha male by the way he carried himself, conversed, related to his spouse. But, I was in for a surprise.
Over dessert, Mr. Rogers started by saying, “The Mrs. and I are so pleased to get to know you, Wren! You’re everything we hoped for for our son. I hope that it’s not Too Much Information for me to share that we know you are a practicing D/s couple, and that Mrs. Rogers and I are, too. Maybe it’s in the genes…” Rick’s Mom lowered her eyelashes submissively, while I blushed crimson.
Rick saw fit to add, “Wren has convinced me to play a game while we’ve been tourists in this fair city, a spanking game…”
“Oh really…?” Mr. Rogers said leadingly, and even the Mrs.’ eyes drilled into her son’s eagerly. Rick spelled-out what we’d been doing all over town, and I dumbly blushed all the more. And just when it didn’t seem it could get any worse, his father said the fateful word. “…Well…?”
My mouth dropped open. Rick pushed his straight-backed chair back from the table. Our waitress returned the check with Rick’s credit card. Instead of signing it, he took me by the elbow and helped me over his knee in that face-down infamous position I love and hate so much. The hem of that slinky black dress was raised above my waist. My thong underwear didn’t hide much and protected even less. The thought throbbed in my brain; you are about to get spanked in one of the most top-drawer, classiest, popular restaurants in all of San Francisco. Not a quick hit-and-run spanking, a full out spanking in front of my prospective in-laws. The stakes couldn’t have been higher. That was why I enjoyed that punishing spanking so damned much. When it was finally over, and it did go on for several long minutes, I stood up, smoothed my dress back down, and walked out of there like I was Queen Cleopatra, with no peer in that establishment save for my lover and his folks. I was able to hold off attacking my man until we were safely behind the closed doors of our B and B, when I wordlessly stripped and fucked Rick’s brains out.
The next day, after our regular routine, we drove into an alternate universe, from the big city to rural Marin County, from a solo existence as a couple into the womb of a close-knit family, that of my bestie and former roommate, Carol. It was culture shock and a half. We were in a bedroom next-door to two little ones, and realized that because we could hear them asking for another drink of water, etc., they could hear us, so frolicking was out of the question.
I made the understatement of the year when I confided to Rick, “We got a lot of spanking in while in the city, we can get through a day and a night without any, can’t we…?”
We enjoyed a home-cooked meal, conversations led by little children, a centered existence. As close as we got to spanking was when we were roasting marshmallows for smores in the backyard firepit. The marshmallows were so white and soft and fluffy and sweet as we each stuck them on long sticks over the open flame. I cupped my hand around Rick’s ear, so no one could lip-read, much less overhear my whispering.
“The marshmallows remind me of my butt cheeks. I can’t wait until you can roast mine once again at home!” For a change, we just let this image percolate in our fertile imaginations, we didn’t act on it at all. But I did refer to my bottom as “my marshmallow” for the rest of our trip, on the airplane, in the Lyft on our way home from the airport. It all made for a most memorable roasting as soon as we got back to the privacy of my apartment…

(The photo above gave me the idea to play a public spanking game while on vacation in a strange city. I found myself very suddenly and very highly aroused by this idea. In a previous piece, I called it “guerilla spanking” like the old guerilla theater right out on the street. I can’t get it out of my mind, so no city is safe when I travel in the near future!)

(The photo to the left excited me in a different but just as profound a way! Daring because it is so risque, I’d love to wear a little number like this out in public!)

(I actually DID roast marshmallows for smores with a family with young children recently. I was the only kinky spanko, so was alone in seeing the similarity between this sweet confection and my sweet caboose.)

5 responses to “#383) Roasting All Over the Northern West Coast”

  1. That is one sweet backside in the top pic. Between that and that story which would raise any spanking male’s heart rate (and other things) I am going to cut this comment short and take care of some needful and personal self-care!
    Thanx for a great post!

    Liked by 2 people

    • I really don’t think that it’s the dress, I think it’s the nudity on display fully bent over. To quote Lebowski, “But that’s just, like, my opinion, man…”

      Like

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