Sunday roast
Posted at 15:04 on 9 Oct 2015 by Pandora / Blake
Last weekend D and I were chopping vegetables for a roast. He was halving potatoes to parboil, and I was peeling parsnips.
I felt him move closer to me. “You look visually appealing,” he said, putting his arms around my waist. He must have finished the potatoes.
We were having a lazy Sunday and I hadn’t bothered getting dressed after getting out of my bath. All I was wearing was the eggshell blue polkadot apron I’d put on before starting to cook. I smiled, leaning back towards him.
He gave my bottom a squeeze and I wiggled it, enjoying the touch. A few times it's been me dressing my friends up like this in Dreams of Spanking videos - not normally the other way round. I was enjoying being the one wearing only an apron with my bare bottom on display.
I turned around and gave D a kiss and a cuddle, wondering if I could tempt him into the bedroom. But before I could get that far he turned me around so I had my back to him. “Bend over and put your hands on the side,” he instructed. I leaned forward and gripped the edge of the kitchen surface.
“Another step forward,” he prompted, one hand resting on my bottom like a promise. I nudged my toes forward until my hips jutted back at a right angle, and my bottom was perfectly positioned for his waiting hand.
He raised it, paused just long enough for me to start to fizz with expectation, and began to spank me. Thuddy, cupped palm spanks, connecting solidly with the lower curve of my bottom, the edge of his hand occasionally drifting onto my upper thigh. Just how I like it. I began to squirm.
He kept up a steady rhythm, not causing so much sting that I cried out or twisted away, but giving enough impact to jolt me forward slightly with every smack. The skin on my bottom tingled and grew warm, and I felt a sweet ache beginning to grow deep in my muscles.
When he stopped, he left me wanting more. I pushed my bottom back into his hand as he gave me a rub. I couldn’t keep the smile off my face. He gave my bottom an affectionate pat and put a hand on my elbow to steady me as I stood upright. Both our faces were rosy, and it wasn't just the heat from the oven.
I love Sunday roasts.
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