As my lover left for work this morning, he casually announced that I’d be getting a good, hard maintenance spanking tonight before he took me out to dinner.
This is typical of him, first, to tell me about a spanking I won’t feel for another nine hours or so, just so I can dwell on it, anticipate it, get all worked-up about it. And second, his planning is perfect, to spank me hard, then take me out in public to sit at a nice restaurant, and squirm and sit on one hip and then the other, all in a vain effort to get my mind off my hot bottom and onto the hot food.
All of this makes the make-up sex, when we get back home, all the hotter, more delicious, (ful)filling.
He comes through the door returning from work promptly every night at five-twenty P.M. At five, I start to get ready. Instead of stripping off all my clothes, maybe taking a quick shower, spritzing on a little cologne, I prepare in a different way, just the opposite way.
I put on a t-back thong, then some bikini panties, and a pair of grannie tidy-whities. I pull on leggings, and a pair of loose-fitting jeans over that, completing the look with a short one-piece dress (the kind that’s so short, you have to wear leggings under it). I might even layer a vest and/or a blazer on top of that.
Why? As I’ve mentioned previously, I LOVE the stage when I know I’m going to get spanked, when my lover sits and prepares me for it. He starts to take off my clothes. I, like most subs, just stand there with my arms raised slightly at my sides and let him take charge. But I want to prolong this delicious, anticipation-filled step, make it last as long as possible! I know he won’t put me over his knee and start smacking until I’m naked; we both believe a proper spanking MUST be administered to a bared butt.
By the time I am (bare naked), he’s smirking and I’m trying not to laugh. But my sex is also salivating. My pump is primed. It’s sure to be a “good” spanking because, no matter how hard he makes it, it’ll have a sexual foundation to build upon.