Post Number: 55
|Posted on Monday, December 29, 2008 - 05:24 am: ||
A WARM WINTER'S TALE
by Alex B.
I pull up to the sidewalk and step out of
my car, more than a bit surprised to find
you out on the driveway, shovel in hand.
You ignore me as I approach, continuing to
scrape and scoop snow from the cement
as I approach.
"I told you I'd do that today."
"Couldn't wait." you reply, stifling a
"I'm five minutes late."
"More like ten."
"Five." I repeat, taking the shovel from you.
"Coffee, black." A swift smack to your rump
sends you trotting in the direction of the
front door, intentionally wiggling your
shapely assets all the way.
I make fairly quick, if strenuous, work of
the shoveling. I'm chilled to the bone,
nevertheless as I enter to find you padding
about the kitchen in your powder blue flannel
pajamas and my white knee socks.
"It's warm in here." I comment, tossing my
jacket onto a nearby chair.
"Mmm." you respond as you pour and hand me
a hot mug of java. "I'm down to one layer."
You then go to the stove and lift some
pastries from an oven pan using a spatula.
You gaze momentarily at the instrument, no
doubt considering its punitive possibilities,
then hand me a dish on which you've placed two
large, gooey sweet rolls. Closing my eyes,
I breath in the enchanting aroma of cinnamon.
"Trying to postpone the inevitable?" I ask
with a wry hint of suspicion.
"More like basking in the suspense." you reply,
bowing your head slightly, an infectious grin
spreading across your blush-stained face.
"You haven't even taken a bite."
"I'm talking about the suspense."
As I devour one of the rolls, your curious
eyes find their way to the rather conspicuous
bulge straining against the fabric of
"Who's your friend?" you inquire, raising an
eyebrow and placing a hand on your hip.
"Oh, him?" I glance downward and shrug.
"He always pops up at times like this."
"Looks like quite a handful."
"He can be."
"Can I meet him?" The tip of your tongue
swipes your lower lip, as if to punctuate
"First things first." I announce, placing the
dish with one roll remaining next to the sink
as I head in your direction.
Like a deer alarmed by some distant clatter,
you turn and bolt from the room. You're almost
to the den and well out of my reach when the
smoothness of your socks against an uncarpeted
section of floor causes you to lose traction.
You slip and nearly fall allowing me to gain
on you as you aright yourself. In a slightly
giddy panic, you attempt fake me out to the
left only to find my arms clasped firmly
around your waist when you move right.
Your feet flutter helplessly as I hoist
and haul you into the bedroom.
Once there, the spirited, if half-hearted,
struggle on your part concludes with me
sitting at the edge of the bed. Having yanked
down your pajama bottoms and panties during
the brief conflict, I have simply to lift my
left leg onto the bed and fling you across it.
You land face first with a slight grunt
followed by a breathless squeal as I land
the first of several sharp swats to you bare,
upturned fanny. The painful smacks come
down hard and fast like a flurry of snow
in a blizzard. You twist this way and that,
attempting to break free, a situation I
remedy by simply tightening left arm around
your waist as I bring the spanking to a
fevered pitch. Tears filling your eyes,
you bury your face in the bed cover as you
begin to sob and kick uncontrollably.
For a further five minutes, though it seems
like hours to you, I continue to mercilessly
deliver smack after stinging smack to your
fiery, jiggling buns. Grabbing handfuls of
blanket, you gnash your teeth, hissing and
howling in painful pleasure. You writhe
and gasp, pressing yourself against me as
the spanking segues into a deep tissue massage
of your sore, radish-red bottom. My strong,
knowing hand firmly kneads your moist, hot
flesh, occasionally pausing to grip a cheek
or squeeze a thigh.
"Your friend must be lonely by now." you moan
in a low, raspy voice.
My response is to roll you off my leg and onto
your back atop the bed as I stand and unbuckle
my belt. Your hands fly to undo the buttons of
your pajama top, nearly tearing a few off in
the process. Within moments, I'm standing
over your naked form with our clothing
cuddled together around my feet. The sight
is post card perfect- you lying there, warm
and waiting, the soft midwinter light
illuminating the room as a fresh supply of
downy flakes begin to cascade outside.
"More snow." I say, climbing onto the edge
of the bed.
"More shoveling, too." You agree with a
slightly obscene giggle.
"And more of these shenanigans, I suspect."
I add, taking your calves into my hands as I
move forward with my friend, now fully swollen,
stiffly bouncing and at the ready.
"Hope so." you sigh, leaning your head back.
"Well then..." I whisper as I enter your
body's warm, welcoming embrace. "Here's to
a long, hard winter."
"I'll love you 'til you can't sit down."
Post Number: 1995
|Posted on Friday, March 27, 2009 - 02:21 am: ||
Post Number: 6
|Posted on Tuesday, September 22, 2009 - 02:06 pm: ||
Wonderful - and so well written.