truly needs to be disciplined. Looking at her - the innocent, little girl beauty and pleading look, and realizing that she knows she’s going to get a sound spanking - it’s hard for me to focus only on punishing her properly.
“Then don’t ever start on me again about Laura’s family. Because every time you do, I’m going to tan your behind.”
It was 6:30 the next evening when I heard the car door shut in the driveway. Sheila walked in with salads and sushi, kissed me, and stepped into the kitchen. “God, I’m hungry as a horse. I’m going to have a glass of wine. Want a beer?”
“I have some unfinished business with you - before we have a drink.”
Sheila looked up in time to see me unbuckle the leather belt and pull it slowly out of my jeans, then double it.
“Bob, no. I don’t want a spanking,” she said, as the very visible shudder shook her body.
“Get in the bedroom. Right now.” There was a tone to my voice she had learned to obey, and she didn’t say a word as she walked by me. I followed, watching the muscles of her beautiful, tanned legs flex beneath the short hem of the pale blue sundress.
I pulled one of the large decorative pillows into the middle of the bed. “Lay on your stomach, with the pillow under your hips.” She did as she was told. I reached over, pulled her dress up over her waist, then pulled her sheer, blue panties down to her ankles. She still had on her heeled sandals, and when I stepped back the scene was well past alluring. The pillow arched her bottom just enough so that the patch of dark blond hair and the pink, glistening lips of her pussy were perfectly framed between her tanned thighs and creamy buttocks, and the puckered, hairless bud of her anus was clearly visible.
She began to pant. For a moment I wanted to drop the belt and bury my tongue between those perfect cheeks and thighs. But I knew she needed this, and there would be time later.
“You may not be able to sit down for dinner after I finish with you. Are you going to drop this nonsense about my ex-family?”
“I don’t know.”
“I bet you’ll know in a minute.” Her first, brief orgasm came as I pulled the tip of the belt lightly up over her thighs, across the thatch of hair, up between the cheeks of her ass, then said, “You’re about to get a spanking you won’t forget for a while.” My arm rose and fell slowly at first, but within a few minutes her bottom was a bright pink. Then she was trying to squirm out of the way, raising and lowering her hips, reaching back to cover her behind with her hands.
“Are you going to stop bringing it up?”
I knew she could never do anything more than say “yes.” It isn’t in Sheila’s nature to ever admit she’s wrong. Even when we both know she is.
Finally she said “Yes”, and it was my cue to use the belt a little harder.
“Are you sure?”
“Yes.”
I can never be harsh with Sheila; I care for her too much. But we both agree that when she misbehaves she needs to be soundly spanked, and since this was the first time I used the belt, I wanted to be sure to leave an impression. Many couples play with the real discipline, erotic discipline issue, but with us it really works. Particularly when she throws one of her tantrums. No amount of reasoning or talking can calm her down. She always initially resists being spanked when she’s upset, but at some point during the spanking she calms down, accepts it, making up is automatic, and we have white-hot sex.
Days of anger, distance and silence are avoided. We quickly return to a state of happiness and contentment.
“OK. It’s over now. I hope you’ve learned a lesson.” As I spoke gently to her, I lightly stroked the pink, hot cheeks of her bottom. My tongue then started across the smooth flesh, completely coating one cheek with a warm film, then the other. As it slipped down between the tight, round little buttocks and began to flick at her lovely little anus, my fingers slowly caressed the smooth skin between her thighs, moved higher, then brushed along the lips of her pussy. My tongue was tickling electric pleasure into the bundles of receptive nerves around her anus at the same time I slipped two of my fingers into her pussy. Sheila was moaning loudly. I reached my left hand under her dress, pushed her bra over her breasts, and began to twirl her nipples between my fingers. Cupping one breast in my hand, I massaged it, then returned to her erect nipple. I continued to probe her ass and pussy - slowly, then faster, then slowly again. I changed positions, slid my tongue down between her legs, found her clit, then gently pushed a wet finger up into her ass. Even when I stopped to get my breath, my fingers were moving, circling, probing, caressing. As always happens, when I have both hands and my tongue working in concert, a strong shudder shook her body.
After many minutes of slow, exquisite pleasure, as if on cue, we were both up, tearing each other’s clothes off. Sheila pushed me back on the bed, put one hand on the shaft of my throbbing dick, the other on my balls, then stared as if they were her most prized possessions as she began fondling me. She slipped a finger first into her pussy, then into my ass, and took my dick deep inside her mouth. I lay back, groaned. Ecstasy. I tried to relax and revel in the incredible feel of her strong but gentle sucking motion, her fingers expertly caressing first my balls, then my ass, then my balls again. She would continue until I erupted in her mouth, or needed to be inside her. That time came.
Within seconds she was on her hands and knees and I was pushing deep inside her warm wetness. I drove into her, hard at first, then gently, then hard again, over and over.
God, it was exquisite. Amazing. As always. Finally, after one more shudder and cry from her, I exploded.
Once our breath returned we kissed, long and gently, then dozed in each other arms. The wine, beer and sushi had to wait. Dinner was at 11:00 p.m.
The next night we were in bed, spooned close, when I asked, “Was your bottom sore today?”
“Not really. Well, maybe a little. Makes me remember,” she said with a sly smile.
I could feel my dick thickening, pressing between the cheeks of her ass. “You needed it, you know. I mean the belt.” My voice was soft, smooth, almost a monotone. “And something else. About a week ago you said something bitchy, the same old family thing, when we were at Donna’s. Do you want to guess what will happen if you do that again?”
“Will you spank me? There?”
“Absolutely.”
“In front of her…or them?”
“I might. Or at least take you into the bathroom. They’ll damn sure know.” Her body trembled slightly.
“It made me think,” she said.
“What made you think,” I said.
“When you took your belt off.”
“What did you think about?”
“My Dad.”
“Yes? What about your Dad?”
“He used a belt when he spanked me.”
“Will you tell me about it?”
“What do you want to know?”
“How
