Bad girl spanking with a leather paddle

My guy finally had the energy to get out of bed, go to my suitcase, and retrieve my leather paddle.

"I need to spank you with this implement," he said, taking it out of its protective case.
"You don't have to. Why break my good girl record?" I asked.
"I will use the studded side on your butt," he said, ignoring my good girl comment.
"What studded side?" I asked.
"This one," he said, grinning.

I forgot that one side of my paddle had leather. The other side had silicone with stars that jut out.

"That's going to hurt," I concluded, playing a terrified girl.
"That's the point. Where's that cute butt of yours?"

I was lying on my back in bed and pretended to protect my butt. He rolled me over like a log to my left, but I moved back to my protective, neutral position. He then pulled me closer to him and started spanking my left buttock.

I normally don't fight it. However, it was fun doing it. I moved. He held my arm down and continued to spank me with the paddle. I ended up spanking him in the process, which was fun and aroused both of us.

Eventually, I caved by planting my face in a pillow and flipping over on my tummy. I liked the sound of the smacks that landed across my pyjama shorts.

"Admit that you're a bad girl," he said, continuing to spank me hard.
"Nope, I'm a good girl," I insisted.
"I'm afraid that I'll need to spank you some more until your butt is bright red," he remarked.

He pulled down my shorts. He continued spanking me hard across my panties. I loved it.

"Are you a bad girl?" he asked me.
"Nope, I'm still good," I replied.

I was so wet when he pulled down my panties and spanked me with the paddle on my bare bottom.

"I like how red your butt is, bad girl," he said, continuing to spank me hard.
"It hurts, Mr Meanie," I replied.
"Good," he said.

He tested how wet I was by sliding his finger in my completely wet clit. He felt that I deserved to be pleasured. He made me reach orgasm. It was intense and amazing.

I was extremely lethargic. I kissed, thanked, and hugged him tightly while feeling the soreness of my butt increase. I love the feeling of being well-spanked and loved.

Pubic hair and oral sex

Several months ago, I explored the idea of trimming my pubic hair. For years, I have let it grow. My guy didn't mind it, but I felt like I needed a change.

I am still trimming it. It's actually therapeutic. My pubic hair doesn't grow so rapidly that I need to shave it weekly. I use nail clippers with the rounded ends. They are safe and they do a good job.

A few weeks ago, my guy observed how nicely trimmed I was down there. It was a first for both of us, but he actually went down on me because he loved the handy work that I had done. His tongue and lips played with my clit. They felt incredibly good. I can't compare the sensation to anything! The orgasm was intense and wonderful.

I loved it and told him so. He liked it, too.

Just when you think that you know each other well, you realize there are a ton of fun times to enjoy and explore.

Quality time after work - part 1

Just before 17:30 on Monday, I pinged my guy on our corporate instant messaging system. He was ready to leave work. I was, too.

We met at our usual parking lot. It's ideal. It's quiet and it's away from all the major rush hour congestion.

I took a bit longer to get there. I had to find a skirt, which I had in my car's trunk, neatly folded in a plastic bag.

My guy opened the passenger side of my car. He liked the sight of my wearing a short skirt. He was happy.

We got into the backseat of my car. As expected, he had cold hands. His running them down the sides of my body made me ticklish. Instead, I held them in my hands as we kissed.

When his hands did warm up, he looked down my cardigan and liked the black bra that I was wearing. He unbuttoned my sweater.

"How many buttons do you have?" he asked me, almost wanting to tear the sweater off my body.
"You bought it for me, you know" I replied.

An interesting point to make is that he was wearing the striped brown and white shirt that I had bought for him in Las Vegas. I was wearing the sweater that he bought for me at Winners.

He took my right breast out of my bra and started sucking on my nipple, which became instantly hard. He then caressed my crotch, enjoying the lacy black panties that I had on. I was so excited. Moments later, I came.

My guy pulled down my panties. He made me spread my legs. He liked that my pubic hair was nicely trimmed. It was the first time that he went down on me. He started kissing my thighs, then my vagina, and then my hard clit. It was incredible. I came yet again.

Of course, he wasn't finished with me. He decided to finger me in both cavities until I came yet again. I was extremely lethargic and happy.

I got to rest in his arms for a bit. He kissed me and held me. It was nice.

Naturally, there's more to our evening in the treehouse. More in a bit!

Treehouse time and it's Wednesday again

Wednesdays seem to be treehouse days as of late. Frankly, I didn't think that this past Wednesday would be one of those occasions.

I got to work and my guy was at his desk, looking like he wanted to take a nap. He didn't notice that I had walked in until I said hi.

I asked how he was. He said that he was okay. To me, that response indicates that he's not as good as he could be. He admitted that he wasn't feeling his normal self. My guess was that he was at his desk. He has been on the road and in meetings as of late. All that activity has suddenly ended. He doesn't exactly know what to do with himself.

I did manage to lift his spirits. He had overheard a conversation that I was having with another writer. I was telling her how much I disliked how one user guide was written by a previous writer. It wasn't useful in that it didn't tell readers how to actually use our software product.

My guy felt the need to add his two cents, basically teasing me about my stance. He truly felt the same way as I did about the user guide, but he likes to see if he can get me worked up.

Somehow, we ended up talking about giving birth on an airplane. I managed to state that I could picture the husband or significant other trying to help with the baby's delivery, but feeling queasy. So, the oxygen masks would drop from the overhead bins, which cracked both of us up.

I decided to get up from my desk and head to the washroom. My guy followed suit.

"You're not following me, are you?" I asked him. I knew that my question was rhetorical.
"Not at all," he said. "It's purely coincidental."

We typically cut through the communal kitchen to head out to the elevators. The kitchen door closed. My guy groped my right buttock. I was turned on and caressed the back of his neck.

We went through the second set of doors. He groped me again. I was even more aroused.

"I don't know what to do now," I admitted, feeling like Jell-O.
"Well, we can fix that after work," he hinted, which meant quality time.
"I'd like that," I admitted. He smiled back at me.

My guy had swiped a box of East Indian sweets that was in the communal kitchen. They were left there by a fellow employee to celebrate the birth of his first child. My guy came up to my desk and offered me some goodies. He then passed them around to others.

He is sweet that way. He always offers these things to me first. The part-time (PT) writer, who annoys me these days, hasn't quite picked up on the fact that he finds her to be phoney and insincere. She proved it to him once again.

"Are you going to the Christmas party?" asked a colleague who was passing by our cubicle area and directed her question at my guy.
"I will be your date," PT yelled out, always overhearing every conversation in the area.
"I don't think that your husband would approve," my guy responded, which shut her down.

Frankly, PT is not exactly a sensitive, caring person. I wasn't annoyed that she had said what she had said. My guy is sweet and I am lucky to have him. However, it was inappropriate and my guy did a good job at telling her no in his own way.

My guy ended up offering home-buying advice to another colleague. I didn't want to interrupt their conversation, but I was ready to leave. So, I said goodnight to both of them and headed out the door. My guy started to pack up, so I knew that my subtle hint had got across just fine.

We drove to our usual spot and got into my guy's car. He helped me take my hoodie off.

"How are you?" he asked me, placing his right hand on my thigh.
"I'm good," I said.
"You're not just good," he pointed out. "You're sweet, sexy, attractive, and wonderful."
"I see that your smooth side is coming out."
"It's the truth," he stated and started kissing me.

As usual, we kissed a lot and often. He touched my left side, which made me giggle. I am a ticklish girl. We continued to kiss. He caressed my breasts. I touched his chest and arm.

He reached down toward the fly of my pants. He was trying to unbutton it, which made me giggle some more. He managed to pull down my pants and my black lacy panties.

He touched my tummy, which continued to make me giggle.

"I like that you're ticklish. It's sweet," he admitted, and kissed my tummy.

My guy fingered my clit. I was fully reclined in the backseat. I was relaxed.

"I have missed touching you," he said. It was my time of the month the last time we were in the treehouse.
"I have missed your touching me, too," I admitted. "I feel like a slut."
"Good," he agreed.
"I'm in the backseat being fingered by a cute guy."

Soon, he had another finger up my butthole. I was so turned in. It took me a few more minutes before I climaxed. I then rested in his arms, as limp as can be. He lightly swatted my bare left buttock. It was sweet.

I snapped out of it after a few moments. We kissed and hugged some more. I recall my guy saying something to me, which prompted me to automatically call him sweetie. He knows that I mean it when I call him by that nickname. I don't say it as often as I should. I do say that he is sweet all the time, though. I don't know why that is. However, we both know that I truly mean it when I use it.

I touched my guy's penis, which I confirmed to both of us that it was erect in his trousers. He undid his belt and trousers, and then slid his briefs down. I gave my guy a handjob. He fingered my butthole again.

"You do know that I have my entire middle finger up your ass?" he asked me rhetorically.
"Yes," I replied. "I like it when you fuck me all the way up my ass."

He came immediately. Moments later, I came. It was a nice moment.

Part two will continue in another post.

Getting spanked and finding myself in dopey mode

Last Friday was my last day of a four-day training course. I got to work later than usual, thanks to waiting for the slowest train you could encounter that was crossing a major street. I have no idea why this street does not have an overpass for trains. I don't even understand why a long cargo train would crawl that slowly during rush hour.

Anyway, I got to work at around 08:40 after I had taken an alternative route. My guy got to work even later. He told me that traffic going eastbound along highway 401 was horrible. He actually had to take the 403 to get to work. So, he arrived at 09:40.

As you know, my guy and I keep a working relationship when we're at work. On Friday, it was too difficult for us. Just when I thought that my guy couldn't get any sweeter than he already is, he completely proves me wrong.

He walked into the training room, passed by me, and discreetly poked my right side. Of course, I immediately squirmed, for I am ticklish. I asked him later if the poke was deliberate. It was.

Lunch time had finally arrived. Practically everyone evacuated the training room. My guy came back about fifteen minutes later and noticed that I was still there.

"How come you didn't come upstairs?" he asked me. "Is it that bad?"
"I just don't want to talk to the part-time writer," I admitted. "Every time she opens her mouth, I feel like I have to challenge whatever nonsense come out of her."

My guy nodded. He got his sandwich and sat next to me. We ate and talked. He then went over to the window and closed the blinds.

He sat next to me again. He leaned over and kissed me on the lips. We kissed for quite a bit. My left hand held his. My right arm was giving him a side hug. I then proceeded to rub his head.

We stopped for a brief period. My guy went to lock the main door.

He came back and made me come. It was quite the lunch break. My guy had to comment again about the double v-neck sweater that I had worn to work the other day. He felt that it was feminine and sexy. I wanted to blush!

We spent another few hours in the course. When our class was over, we headed upstairs.

We got into the lunch room. I was leading the way.

"Stop!" he said. I did. We kissed. He groped my buttocks. I was melting.
"How am I supposed to go back and do work?" I asked him rhetorically.

My guy is off to The Hague next week. We talked for a bit before we called it a week.

We got into an empty elevator. Yes, we kissed some more as if we were high school sweethearts. He groped my buttocks again. I felt like Jell-O!

"How about we spend some time in the treehouse?" he proposed.
"Sounds good," I said.
"You can ride with me," he said.

So, we got in his car and he drove us to our regular spot. We climbed into the backseat. He showed me a wool sweater that he had bought. It felt nice. It was blue, which he looks good in.

We continued to kiss. He made me reach orgasm again by simply rubbing me with my jeans on.

It wasn't enough. We both knew it. He put his hand down my jeans and panties. He fingered my butt and my clit. Moments later, I climaxed. It was nice. I was starting to get dopey.

I touched his cock, which was as hard as a rock. He whispered in my ear.

"Today isn't about me. It's about you," he said, gently moving my hand away from his member and carefully placing my hand on my lap as he kissed me.

He lightly slapped by backside four times. He then gave me a few hard smacks over my jeans.

"What's that for?" I asked innocently.
"It's for being a bad girl," he stated, pinching each cheek in between smacks.
"I don't think I deserved to be punished," I reasoned. It didn't matter to him, as he continued to work on my backside.
"You are such a slut," he said. "You've been naughty. Do you agree?"
"I've been a good girl," I said defiantly.
"Oh, really?" he said in a surprised tone.

I pushed the right button. He spanked me hard. For the first time, he spanked me six times in rapid succession. He normally spanks me methodically. He was spanking me both out of pleasure and in a disciplining, you-need-this-punishment way, which was an incredible turn-on.

He pinched my backside as hard as he was spanking me. I loved it. My butt was getting sore. He scolded me during the entire session. I liked it.

He stopped and kissed me. We hugged for a bit. My guy wanted to touch me. He undid my jeans and played with my clit.

"You are really wet," he told me.
"Is that surprising to you?" I said with a smile.

Yep, he pleasured me so well that I came again.

"You are so easy to pleasure," he said.
"You do a great job," I said, in quite a dopey state of mind.
"You deserve it."

My guy found my dopey state to be both cute and sweet. He was pinching my vagina, aggressively groping my breasts, and slapping me on my right cheek. I actually had to put my hand on top of his and tell him to stop slapping my face. He was trying to wake me up from being dopey, but he loved the thought of taking advantage of me.

My guy tickled me. All I recall is holding both his hands down with mine, as if I were handcuffing him. He crawled over me to get out of the car. It felt like he was on top of me in the backseat, kind of playing Twister, but without the colour-coded vinyl map.

"Are you humping me?" I asked in a dazed voice.
"Yes," he said, simulating anal sex, but with our clothes on.

I am not sure how I managed to get out of the backseat and into the passenger shotgun seat, but I did. I sounded dopey. My guy smiled at me. He thought that it was endearing. He drove me to my car.

"Tonight should sustain you while I am gone," he told me.
"It probably will," I said.
"Will you be okay?" he asked me.
"I think so."
"Have your car window down for a bit to get some fresh air," he suggested. "We'll talk on Skype soon."
"Maybe," I said, which is my way of saying yes.

I got out of the treehouse. It was a nice evening. I knew that I would sleep well. I could tell that he was going to miss me as much as I tend to miss him when he is away on business.

Being tied up and waiting patiently

On Saturday, my guy and I played dominant and submissive roles, respectively, on Skype. It was different for both of us, but it was surprisingly enjoyable.

One of the interesting tidbits that came out of our role-playing session was my guy saying that he was going to tie me up and play with me. He would stimulate my clit to the point where I wanted his cock inside me, but he would tease me. He wouldn't give in. He would keep me waiting.

I never thought that I'd say what I am about to say. Although it is just plain torture, I like that thought.

After our session, when we were relaxed after getting off, we talked.

"I have never been tied up," I confessed.
"Maybe it's time that you were in real life," he said.

Handcuffs? I watched Anderson on TV this afternoon. He had given Katherine Heigl a pair of pink fuzzy handcuffs. Perhaps I need a purple pair, seeing that I have a love for the colour and that they would go well with my fuzzy purple paddle. Or, should I just have a standard pair of steel handcuffs slapped on my wrists?

Part of me likes the thought of having a scarf tied around my wrists for starters. It's more romantic. I am not the type to resist, especially when I am getting spanked.

Anyway, just thoughts about being tied up. They are all worth exploring.

A couple of days ago, we talked about seeing each other once he gets back in town on Saturday. The office is across from the airport.

"Should I meet you in the office or in your car?" I asked him. "The backseat of your car is your office."
"We can meet in the office," he said, after chuckling.
"I don't have access to the elevator after hours, so you'll need to get me," I indicated.
"Yes, I'll get you from the lobby, and then I'll get you again in the office," he said, which made me smile.

Three more days to go before I get to see my guy again and get a sore backside. I can't wait.