#706) The Five Love Languages – #2 Acts of Service

We finished our Thanksgiving repast at about one P.M., got dressed (yes, I cooked and ate in the nude), and we went downtown. I’d volunteered us to work a shift at our community homeless shelter serving turkey dinners to those less fortunate. Please don’t think this one act of altruism makes me a saint; we have so much, this was just one little way to give back.
But I will admit that when we left the shelter at the conclusion of our stint, I felt good. In the car, I kissed my lover passionately. We have tinted windows, so, feeling certain that we couldn’t be observed, I began pulling clothes off (of Robert and of me). I wanted to make-out. Within a moment I found my ass high in the air and my head near the floormat, and my Top was licking and French kissing my rosebud. It felt so mind-blowingly fantastic, but instead of voicing my rapture, something in my head made me say something very different.
“Service me, lover! Lick my hole, lick it deep!” I thought it sounded sexy. My Dom thought it sounded wrong. In a trice, I then found myself over his knee getting my butt cheeks spanked very hard, with malice of a lack of forethought.
“I’m sorry… I misspoke… it was foolish… ow!… Please…
He placed my bottom in the bucket-seat beside him, adjusted his seat-back upright, and started the car for our trip home.
“When I get you home, your spanking will continue,” he informed me.
“Yes, sir,” was all I could think to say out loud. I thought a hundred things, how my butt felt absolutely phenomenal, warmed and glowing, how I wanted him to continue to punish me until he felt the err was righted, how I would’ve loved to fuck right here in the car, so really was sorry for my mouthiness!
Robert pulled into the garage and closed its door by remote-control, so I didn’t have to re-dress only to retake-off those clothes a moment later.
A moment later we were in our bedroom, I was naked over Robert’s knee, and he was making good on his promise to continue showing me the error of my ways. I tried to hold my tongue this time, only a few soft murmurs and mews escaped between my clenched but rattling teeth.
When he was finished, he picked me up and put me on the bed face down. He took his clothes off with a look on his face that telegraphed that sex was on the agenda. I reached back with both hands and parted myself.
“Which place do you want?” I whispered, arching my lower back so that both orifices opened for him.
“Both,” he said greedily. With a singular focus, he thrust his manhood into my sex, bringing me to an almost immediate climax, then, while I was still in the throes of euphoria, he withdrew and pressed this slick cock in where it received a tighter, more intimate reception. Robert laid his full weight on me so that his hands were free to reach underneath us, part my sex and find my clitoris. Only his fingers and his hips/cock moved, but I gained a whole new appreciation of the concept of acts of service. I bit my tongue to keep from saying something about being serviced again.

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