#679) Just Because

First, I want to declare that I don’t publish this for any self-aggrandizement. Just the opposite really. Some nice reader wondered recently if I was an exhibitionist. This made my lover and me laugh. If you knew how shy, spotlight-avoiding I am in real life, you would, too.

Second, I don’t publish it because I want an outpouring of sympathy or concern. Just the opposite really. There is a clear delineation in my mind between the one who I do want/need actual support from, and the others who exist in a parallel reality, the Internet, who are kind and caring, but who are unable to actually support me in any tangible way.

I publish it out of a desire to be better known and truly understood. Every human is a multifaceted gem, but we only see certain glimmering facets of each other here, both in cyberspace in general and on this or any blog in particular, unless we consciously try to expose other sides. I have nakedly exposed myself to say that I have a round, bigger than average and larger than life butt. But only one gets to actually see it, actually bare it, most importantly, actually spank it. I have been (probably too) honest, openly sharing the fact that it’s as though I have a duck call wedged up my anus. I cut farts at home and suffer from unfortunate flatulence in front of friends and colleagues. I have been the most nakedly honest of all to confide that I possess the tiniest of titties, something I’m very self-conscious about in everyday life. I’ve shared that I’m in my thirties, but not that I sometimes feel so fucking old, that I absolutely detest aging, and only put up with it because the alternative is worse! I’ve exposed this most private and sometimes sexual side of me here because it pertains, it has relevance. But none of you know that I’m something of an authority on Native American cultures, particularly Plains Indian cultures, specifically the Lakota Sioux. Or that I love thoroughbred horse racing and breeding, am a pretty good (and successful) handicapper. Or that I’ve won numerous teaching awards in elementary education both at the local and the national level. I haven’t shared these facets of myself (purposefully) until now to prove my point. We are each unique; we are each mostly strangers.

To further hone that point, I am happy with who I am, but feel that it is not “normal” to be a sexual submissive, a masochist who loves to be spanked as much as she loves to be fucked, and that’s a whole hell of a lot! I, in particular, am not always well balanced, totally sane, easy to deal with or love. It’s all a part of my package.

With all of that said, I share some near verbatim dialogue and actual occurrences from earlier today.

He comes into the bathroom while she is sitting on the commode urinating.

“If you’re going to be in here at this moment, come here, come closer…”

He does and she pulls him down to kiss. The kiss lasts longer than the standard “good morning, great to see you again, do you know that I love you” kind of buss.

“It’s Saturday,” she says, her mouth an inch away from his. “Do you have plans?”

“Just to spend time with you.”

“Good answer!” she smiles, wipes, takes him by the hand back to the bedroom. He knows that she must be possessed by something serious because she didn’t wash her hands. The normally fastidious woman-child knows that they are both going to get a lot dirtier.

She starts laying out implements on the bed, a thin belt, the razor strap, the tawse, followed by wooden ones, a big hairbrush, a small wooden paddle, a larger but thinner paddle.

“I want you to punish me with any or all of these…” she says coolly.

“Why?” he responds.

“Just because…” and she starts to tear-up. “I’ve long felt that the cohesive center to things isn’t holding any more. It isn’t just Bonnie retiring… life is all the more hectic all the time… the economy is fucked… politics are insane! …I need a cry! Just because! …Will you?”

“You know I will, if that’s what you want. Do you know I love you?”

She nods, kisses him passionately again, then crawls up on the bed and sticks her ass out. She surprises him and keeps sticking it out after he’s used all her beloved leather implements. She keeps sticking it out for all of the wooden ones. He leaves her in that position to get the Lexan paddle, and then a rubber-soled shoe, and finally the cane.

She has her cry. An ugly cry that made her ball out loud and swallow a lot of snot and even dribble a little pee. She rolls over on her side on the bed and sobs inconsolably, even though he holds her close and strokes her hair just like she loves.

The hard beating set the foundation for the day. She needed comforting, so they made love. An hour and a half later, her ass burned terribly, and that was the only thing to take her mind off it. Two hours later, her ass felt fantastic and was bruised so incredibly, and she rejoiced by fucking him hard again. And having not eaten all day, they took take-out into bed and fed one another and made love, passionately romantic, exquisitely sensual, slow and deliberate love after their old-folks-so-early-dinner.

They napped and woke up simultaneously at twilight, both unsure if it was dusk, or if they’d slept all night and it was Sunday at dawn.

“I want you again…” she whispered wantonly.

“I need some inspiration…” he replied and turned her over. “Your ass looks raw, too sore to spank…”

“Why don’t you fuck it then,” she growled like a feral alley cat. She handed him the tube of lube and guessed correctly; he was hard as soon as he’d fingered lubricant up her backdoor.

This time sex wasn’t poetic love-making, it was a raunchy, rough fuck with slaps (his) and bites (hers) and grunts (his) and sighs (hers) and the most intense climax.

And for the moment, life seemed bearable again. All of it just because.

2 responses to “#679) Just Because”

  1. I wonder how different it would have been for me if I’d grown up with the internet, i.e. access to erotic material where I learned my obsessions were not nearly so weird. It wasn’t til age 25 when I met Irene that I could really share, relax and truly enjoy sex.

    I’ve never created my own site, but enjoy others and comment occasionally. I find your girl-girl stuff more titillating than when you write about your male lover, but I always appreciate your intense passion for submission.

    Liked by 1 person

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