Asking for a Spanking

WARNING:  EXPLICIT POST (is that warning really necessary on an adult blog? prob not)

After 40 years I have finally learned that life is easier if you just ask for what you want. I know, crazy, huh? So when I had an appointment cancel today and I knew my husband was home, I drove myself straight home and announced, “I have two hours to be your spanky love slave.”

He handed me a bottle of window cleaner and a rag. “These windows are filthy,” he said, spanking my ass a few times to reinforce the point. “I want you to get these spotless,” he informed me. He went around to the outside and cleaned his side of the window.

My brain has been turned off since my mom died anyway, which works out really well for going instantly into the sub zone. You would never believe how much cleaning windows was turning me on. He came back in to inspect, showed me a few spots I had missed and gave me another spanking as I scrubbed. He then proceeded to unbuckle my pants and pull them down, spanking my bare skin as I continued to mindlessly rub circles with my rag on the window. I hardly distinguished the difference between the pleasure of the sharp slaps and the pleasure of his fingers penetrating me, but when he pulled my hips down lower so he could enter me, I realized with surprise that it we were already there.

I sucked his cock for a moment and then he drilled into me and it was good. He sat down, spun me around and went for his favorite lap dance position.

"This is what happens to girls who don't clean the windows," he tells me.

"They get spanked?" I ask hopefully, alternately rocking back and forth  and up and down over his cock as I find a rhythm, use it up and find another.

"They get fucked."

"They get fucked hard?" (still hopeful, and note the asking for what I want thing).

"Uh huh."

I started talking dirty. I've always been pretty vocal, but having kids has forced me into silent sex and I'd broken the habit. Apparently it was just reborn. “Oh yeah, I love the way your cock rubs on my clit right there," I gritted, grinding away.  

 You may remember from my frustrated coitus f**ing interruptus post that I'm wanting more than just a little spanking foreplay.   "spank me" I grunted.  I know, topping from the bottom.  But there's no time to tiptoe around the subject when an orgasm's on the line, right?  He spanked, I ground.  It was good.  We came up to a near fever pitch and I started thinking, I really should try to get more cardio in my life because I was totally out of breath.  Apparently I wasn't the only one.  

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"Let's get some water and reconvene in the bedroom," my husband suggested.  

I  stood, pulled up my pants and grabbed my water bottle, sucking it as I walked, as if I were in the middle of a workout.  In the bedroom I topped a little more, building a little mound of pillows on the bed, pulling down my pants and draping myself over it.  I had also strategically laid a couple implements by the bedside table.  They didn't get used, but that's okay, because what followed was amazing.

He entered the room and murmured some approving noises about the position.  He started spanking me with his hand, hard and I wiggled about.  Then he thrust the fingers of his other hand into me, spanking as he finger fucked.  I was moaning, maybe keening is more like it, and encouraged, he increased the tempo of both spanking and the finger thrusts until I tumbled off the edge into orgasmic ecstasy.  

Then he pushed his cock into me and in the lovely pillow propped position I was in, the angle was juuuust right.  I started with the dirty talk again, telling him how I loved the way his balls felt slapping into me, how good it was, to give it to me, etc.  He came hard and tumbled down beside me.

I love how easy it is to talk about anything and everything after sex.  I told him how great it was to have spanking sprinkled throughout, and how I'm having a harder time with vanilla sex lately.  He said he knew and he was on it.  Then I was telling him how my brain is pure fuzz since my mom died, and that this week was no easier than the past two in terms of the grief.  I had a few tears and he told me how amazing I am, that I've handled things so beautifully and  I'm the matriarch of the family now and I always will be. 

Then it was time to pick the kids up, but it was with a much happier outlook on life than the one I'd started with this morning.  Here's to asking for what you want!