I started thinking about this topic due to the spanking survey that Bonnie posted on her blog, “My Bottom Smarts.” She wisely stated that embarrassment was part of the deal in spankings. It was furthered when I answered these survey questions on this blog, and Sophie contributed her perspective, saying that she seems to feel all the more embarrassed when put OTK as time goes by in her marital relationship.
All of that was probably in the back of my subconscious when I was in bed with Robert. He awoke with morning wood. I laid across his lap perpendicular to his body, with his erection between my tightly pressed thighs, right up against my aroused pussy lips. As Robert spanked my butt, I exaggerated the impact by bouncing about, effectively jacking him off with my flesh as he warmed my fleshy fanny. In my early morning daze, I congratulated myself; here was a spanking position that was not so revealing, not so exposing, therefore not so embarrassingly humiliating. I so wanted Robert to get off on it, to spurt fountains of ejaculate into the air, to come down all over my ass. I rode him hard, mewing and moaning my pleasure. By exaggerating the impact and its results seemed to convince my body; I was getting close to a climax.
“I need more visual stimulation,” Robert pronounced, puncturing my hope bubble, pulling me off his middle and sitting on the edge of our mattress. He put me back over his lap, but this time in the even more awkward wheelbarrow position. My thighs were parted wide on each side of his body, my sex parted, my cheeks parted; I was wide open for viewing.
My head was the lowest part of my body, resting on the carpeted floor, as I felt Robert’s fingers ply the folds of my vagina, pry my buttocks further apart to tickle my rosebud. It wasn’t just my posture making the blood rush to my head, I blushed deeply at being so exposed. “That’s better…” he commented before starting to spank me with whatever hand wasn’t busy penetrating an orifice.
Embarrassment and humiliation are important components to spanking for me, as much as I hate to acknowledge that fact. So this became one of the most intense spankings I’ve received in recent memory. I hate that it’s so obvious that I’m turned-on by being spanked! I hate that my rosebud is so sensitive, can get me so wet with just a little manipulation! I can’t stand the juxtaposition of being pleasured so profoundly as I’m being punished with a spanking!
“I’m gonna cum…!” I whimpered.
“I know. Be sure it’s a good one… or I’m gonna spank you hard, little lady…!”
Being threatened made me grow ever closer to that mind-blowing orgasm. To add to it, Robert took a jism-slick finger out of my pussy and plunged it deep up my anus, as he spanked my cheeks resoundingly.
“AAAARRRRGGGHHH! Fuck! That’s… so… fucking… good!” I screamed.
The orgasm wrung me out as though I was a washcloth. I was left limp and exhausted. I wanted to cuddle with my lover, so started to get up off the floor.
“Stay there,” my Top commanded. “One orgasm isn’t enough.” He left his finger up my butt as he stroked my still-pulsating pussy with his other hand.
“Oh, honey… I’m spent…” I begged, but then it registered what all he was doing to me. “Oh, honey… that’s so good! Keep that up, just like that… Oh, fuck!”
“Aren’t you a little lascivious whore…?” he chided as he finger-fucked and spanked.
I found that my brain didn’t work properly. It wouldn’t send signals to my mouth to talk. I just had to telepathically send him the message that YES, yes, I am a whore, I am his whore! He knows just how to expose me as his lascivious whore! I am embarrassed and vulnerable and exposed wide open, and I want to stay in this humiliating pose forevermore. He reads my signals and spanks me, bringing on the new climax, bringing the heat, making me cry out and cry like a baby and cum and cream and clench and curse.
I’m left feeling brain-dead and body-weary; I feel like a ragdoll. As if in slow motion, a thought occurs to me; your lover hasn’t yet cum. If I was still with the older men I used to date, it wouldn’t have matter. They would’ve climaxed vicariously with me; it would’ve satisfied their desires for the next full week. But I’ve sworn-off sugar daddies as unhealthy; I’m now with a young, virile man. He needs fucking, he deserves to cum. I push him back onto the mattress and mount him. Just because it feels like I don’t have a solid bone in my body, Robert has a very prominent one in his, and I impale myself upon it. Riding him like a cowgirl feels like too much for me at this moment, when I’ve just felt so vulnerable. So I lay on top of my Top, snuggle my face into his collarbone, and buck my hips back and forth. His hands gravitate to my rollicking buttocks. He kneads the flesh roughly, spanks me some more, parts me and again penetrates my pooper with a middle finger. This ministrations make me grip him tightly and thrust wildly. It’s enough; I hear him start to pant loudly, thrust back into me demandingly, and then cum, filling me with his seed.
If he hadn’t cum, I would’ve felt a strong sense of loss. I wouldn’t have had pleased him as he had pleased me. We would’ve been uneven on the imaginary but important scorecard. As it is, we’re all smiles. But to feel this gratification, I’ve had to get back on the pill. We can’t afford a pregnancy at this stage of things. So, I’m doing all kinds of things chemically to my body in order to let our minds feel free and our libidos feel elated. Indeed, if Robert had wanted to pull out of my pussy and fuck me up my butt five minutes ago, I probably would have felt all the more mentally relaxed when he orgasmed inside me. Performing a sex act that would’ve greatly embarrassed many of my sisters wouldn’t have affected me in that way. This is especially true for women from previous generations; I often think about what my mother would say if she knew I allowed my butt to get fucked as much as I do. I don’t even want to think about how embarrassed she’d be if she knew I often ask for it! Such is romance in the 21st century.
We cuddle post-coitus. I like that he can bring a blush to my facial cheeks so easily. I love that we share a taste for bringing a blush to my rear cheeks so radiantly!