Saturday, January 07, 2012

Being tickled and spanked in a car

Yesterday, I worked from home in the morning. My manager and I had a teleconference with a prospective candidate for a position at 10:00 am. After that, I continued to work on my laptop.

My guy logged on to Skype an hour later and we sent messages for a bit.
"How are you doing?" I asked him.
"Good. Please tell me that you didn't catch my cold."
"Tee hee. Nope, I didn't. You made me feel better."
We had kissed a lot the other day. It was nice.

I had missed him. I said that I wanted to drop by work. He wrote back, saying that it was a good idea and that he'd be waiting for me.

I arrived at work just before 15:00. I first talked to a sales guy that I hadn't seen in weeks, along with a project manager. After our chatting session was done, I went over to my guy's desk to see how he was doing. He offered me some baklava. Yes, he offered me the gift that I had given to him the previous day. It was yummy.

He looked at what I was wearing. I was wearing a purple sweater with a zipper down my left shoulder. He liked the access. He also noticed that I had a new pair of jeans on. They were figure-hugging. He liked that they weren't baggy like the pair of jeans I had on the other day. I had lost a lot of weight last year, which was roughly fifty pounds. I am thinner now than I was before my surgery back in late October. I need a new wardrobe.

My guy told me that I was sweet, funny, and smart. He thought that I was doing a tremendous job at holding down the fort at work, as I am the only writer left. One of the previous writers was a jerk. He said that he didn't "want to be jealous of [the jerk]," which made me nearly spit out the drink that I was sipping.

My guy was sweetening me up. He let me take a Quality Street chocolate candy from a canister that he had in his desk drawer. I took out a chocolate in a yellow wrapper.
"This chocolate reminds me of something," I hinted with a naughty smile on my face.
"Yes, it looks like the tip of a penis," he stated, reading my mind.
"It has juice in it," I said, which made him smile. "It's sweet instead of being salty."
"You're supposed to lick and suck, not bite!" he insisted, which cracked us both up.
We took a drive out to the parking lot that we were at the previous day. It is typically secluded. However, it was busy this day. A motorcycle show had begun nearby. We decided to be adventurous and park between cars. We eventually were between a U-Haul trailer and a pickup truck.

For some reason, I seem to be okay stripping down in a car. My guy wondered if I was into voyeurism. I'm not sure. He remembered my Marilyn Monroe incident when I was seventeen years old. I walked over a subway vent and my kilt went up, revealing my panties in downtown Toronto. I wasn't embarrassed then. If that were to happy these days, I probably would feel the same.

I took off my jacket in the car. My guy unzipped my sweater. He started rubbing the back of my neck. He worked on kissing the side of my neck, and proceeded to kiss my shoulder. He held my left hand and kissed it.
"I don't want to be jealous of [the jerk]," he reminded me.
"You have nothing to worry about," initiating a passionate kiss on his lips.
We kissed a lot. He enjoys sucking my lower lip with his lips. We both have pretty full lips. He used his tongue and moved it around the inner circumference of my lips. It was nice.

He then lifted up my bra and touched my breasts. He loved cupping them and played with my nipples.

My guy went to unzip my jeans. I am extremely ticklish around my tummy area. I feel like it gets in the way.
"Okay, okay," he said, giving up. "You can unzip your jeans."
"I'm ticklish," I said, unzipping them.
"You mean, like this?" he asked, tickling my sides and places where he knew that I would squirm.
"You're so mean!" I exclaimed while being tickled to death. I eventually landed in his arms, with my head resting comfortably on his chest.
"I like this position," he said. "Let me have access."
He reached under my panties and found my clit. He massaged it. He then slid his middle finger into my butthole. I didn't think that I'd enjoy being fingered there, but I did. I eventually came and rested, cuddling up to him.
"That was incredible," I said to him.
"You're incredible," he whispered in my ear. "Just relax for a bit," as he continues to kiss my forehead and stroke my cheek.
When I finally sat up, he was attempting to zip up my sweater.
"Ow!" I exclaimed.
"I zipped your hair," he admitted. "I'm sorry, baby," unzipping my sweater as I eventually rested my head on his lap.
"That's okay," I said. "I'll just be bald on my left side," which made him laugh.
He stroked my arm. He worked his way down to my backside. As I had indicated in my previous post, it wouldn't take long for him to work on my backside. He pulled down my jeans and groped my buttocks.
"You have been a bad girl," he insisted, smacking one cheek and moving to the other. "I haven't spanked you in a long time."
"That's because I've been a good girl," I said. as he continued to spank me.
"That's not true," he stated. "You have left me in the office all by myself for two out of the four workdays this week," delivering even more smacks on my backside.
Once again, he decided to finger my butt. It was a new experience, but it turned me on. I rubbed his penis in his pants, which became harder. I came again. We then cuddled a bit more.

It would have been nice to have had a room to be intimate at work. However, I felt safe in his car. It was worth visiting work and my guy.


  1. Hey CB. Nice to see you back among the blogging! And with a great new RL office romance to report on too.

    No contact email though? How about it. Or write to me at gauss AT gmx DOT com.


    Karl Friedrich Gauss

  2. Hi, Karl! It's nice to hear from you again. I appreciate that you have come back to visit my blog. Thanks for taking the time to write to me!

    Yes, I am writing again because things in my spanking life are more interesting. =)

    I have added my e-mail address to my profile. Feel free to contact me, if need be.

    Take care,

  3. Thanks for that. I'll write.

    Karl Friedrich Gauss