Anal Sex

Anal Sex

I love anal sex. Plain and simple. When I write anal sex into my erotic fiction, it’s not a porn thing or a fantasy thing. It’s reality. For me, anal sex is one of the most incredible sexual experiences I can have. Some of the most powerful orgasms I’ve ever had were from anal sex without any clitoral stimulation. When I told one man I was messaging with that I love anal sex, he responded, “Marry me!” This was from a guy who didn’t ever want to get married… he was that amazed to find a woman who loved anal sex and was willing to volunteer for it. Hell, I’ll even beg a partner for anal sex if it turns him on because I truly do want it.

So why is anal sex so powerful for me? Beats the shit out of me! (Sorry… I couldn’t resist.) I truly don’t know, though. It’s a physical pleasure. From the time I began trying to convince my first lover to have anal sex with me (and he refused to do something so “deviant”), I’ve been very attracted to the idea of having anal sex. For me, there was no “attraction to the taboo” allure that many articles site as the potential reason anal sex is so enjoyable for many men and women. I’m not someone who wants to do something just because it’s taboo. I’m actually less likely to do something that is taboo. Bestiality? That’s taboo, but no thanks. Having sex in public? No thanks. But anal sex? As long as there is plenty of lube and a condom involved, sign me up.

I’ve always known my butt is very sensitive to touch. I adore it when my lovers put their hands on my butt, especially on my sit spots. I love a pat on the butt or a gentle caress. I also love a good smack as we all know from this blog. I think it was just an intuitive knowledge that if my butt was that sensitive, my asshole probably was, too.

Anal sex has never been painful for me. Again, I’m not sure why. When I first saw articles about taking it slow and training an asshole to accept a very small butt plug so that it will eventually accept a cock, I was puzzled. When my first willing partner and I had anal sex, we lubed and condomed up, and then he just plunged in. There were no problems aside from the expected temporary resistance at the sphincter. We both experienced a great deal of pleasure from our first try at anal sex, but it’s not that way for everyone.

Much later in life when I finally experienced a lover who wanted me to do anal play on him, I was amazed at how much less he could accept in his ass than I could. I suddenly started seeing why articles help people to slowly work up to bigger and deeper penetration. I had one partner who could not accept any penetration at all. His butt clenched up tightly, and I wasn’t able to get anything in more than a centimeter without him going into pain. For him, it is probably going to take years of training work before he’ll be able to get his prostate massaged. Why? Again, I’m not sure.

I’ve also found it very interesting how many men have approached me wanting to be pegged. It’s a secret fantasy for many, many heterosexual men. They just are scared to voice it to most women because they are afraid of being judged for being “gay.” Every single one of those who have asked me to peg them have preceded the request with, “I’m not gay, but I’ve always really wanted to try anal penetration.” I then have to teach all of them that anal sex is not a “gay thing.” It’s a sexual thing. Anal sex feels good or even amazing for lots of people of all orientations, genders, and sexes. The fact that anal is still shamed for heterosexual men as a “gay thing” is ridiculous and is evidence of the horrible amount of homophobia still prevalent in our culture. It’s time to get rid of that crap (ahem) and accept that anyone can love anal play without it making them any less of a man, woman or person. All anal play says about the participating individuals is that they are sensual people who love something that is considered kinky or taboo by part of society.

Because I love anal sex so much, I also hate that anal has so many derogatory ways of referring to it. Riding the chocolate highway, fudgepacking, the “wrong” hole, buggering… so many of these euphemisms have negative connotations in our culture. It’s time for that to stop, too. Those negative phrases contribute to the too pervasive idea that “good girls” or straight men shouldn’t want anal sex. Those who want anal sex should be seen as sexually healthy people who are able to expand their minds beyond the idea that “real” sex is just penis-in-vagina sex. There are so many amazing ways to have pleasure with our bodies, and we shouldn’t be shamed for those desires or actions.

Likewise, if you don’t want to have anal sex or you don’t enjoy it, that’s ok, too. According to surveys, most women don’t. I wonder how much of that dislike of anal sex is due to psychological brainwashing that women shouldn’t like anal sex because good girls don’t do that sort of thing or because women are “supposed” to find anal sex painful. If people truly don’t enjoy anal sex, that’s perfectly ok. But if you’re someone who is curious about or enjoying anal sex, know that’s ok, too. You are normal. Human sexuality is vast and diverse, and you are a lucky person to get to experience that pleasure that some others don’t get to enjoy.

©2017 WoodLeatherLace.com

The Nooner

(At long last! A M/F spanking and sex story that has taken me months to complete. Based on true events though no names are used to protect the very obviously guilty.)

My new boyfriend had a great deal of flexibility in his schedule since he worked from home as a computer programmer. He took advantage of that freedom to shift his work schedule to his natural bio-rhythms, sleeping in until 11 a.m. or noon every day but working until late in the night. He had also just moved into a new apartment, one that he hadn’t had the opportunity to christen yet with a sexual partner.

I kept a more traditional 9-5 work schedule because of my career; I traveled between locations locally meeting with clients while doing my job. One particular Monday, I had several last-minute cancellations for the next day on my schedule that left me with a big block of open time in the middle of the day. My last appointment before the free time was not far from my boyfriend’s apartment. I looked at that opening and thought to myself that it had a great deal of potential for some mid-day fun, so I sent a text to my boyfriend asking him, “Any interest in a nooner to christen your place tomorrow?”

The reply quickly came back: “Um, yes? Is there any other answer to that question?”

I was already fairly certain that his response would be an affirmative, but I laughed at his incredible willingness. We sent a series of texts working out the details. I would show up on his doorstep at 11 the next day, ready and willing for whatever fun might arise.  Part of me was a bit nervous about this plan for one reason: since I had learned how to have incredibly pleasurable but also incredibly loud orgasms, I hadn’t had sex with a man who lived in multi-family housing. Thus, I wasn’t sure I was going to be able to restrain my screams for the sake of the neighbors. Still, I wasn’t about to turn down this opportunity based on that fear.

The next day I found myself at his front door with a cloth grocery bag of sex toys. The crop wouldn’t quite fit in, but no one was really around outside so I wasn’t too worried about what the neighbors were seeing. As I knocked on the door, my boyfriend opened it to greet me with a kiss. He was as happy to see me as I was to see him. However, he was also in morning mode, and he was in need of his coffee. I kicked off my shoes and made myself at home on the family room couch while he went in pursuit of his heavenly nectar. He had just gotten out of the shower and was still waking up.

We chatted while he loaded the coffee pot, but we quickly began kissing again on his couch while his coffee brewed. I was quite happy to see him, and he seemed equally excited (ahem) by the prospect of what was happening between us. When the coffee finished, he stopped kissing me to go grab his cup and fill it. While I knew how much the coffee meant to him, I wasn’t really in the mood for him to take time to drink it. I wanted to have sex. Desperately.

When he returned to couch to drink his coffee, I pounced on him as soon as he set the mug safely on the side table. The few seconds he had been gone had been too long. My tongue was rapidly inside his coffee-flavored mouth, and his hands quickly moved to my hips as I slid my body onto his lap. He pulled me close and returned my kisses with his, letting his left hand wander up to my breasts amidst the passion.  After a few minutes of this intense interaction, my boyfriend pushed me away to give himself a bit of space to grab his mug and take a long drink. Then he turned back to me.

“I have morning wood we need to take care of. You seem like you’re ready to help me what that issue.” A big smile crossed my face. I was definitely ready to help relieve his erection. My boyfriend took one more gulp of his coffee and then lifted me up off the couch and led me toward his bedroom. As we got into the bedroom, he pulled me close again and put his hands on my cheeks. A gentle kiss was followed by more sex talk.

“I want to make you cum,” he said emphatically, “but until we deal with this morning wood, I can’t think about anything else. You’re going to have to help me before I can help you.” With many men, I would think this was a line to get his and then leave me hanging. However, I knew my boyfriend was good to his word. He loved making me cum. He truly needed release, and I was more than ok with that. I put my arms around his shoulders, kissed him again, and then nodded my consent.

With that, my boyfriend couldn’t wait any longer. He began taking off his clothing while I removed mine in a rapid fashion. This wasn’t a sensuous undressing. It was desperation and desire. The goal was to be naked with our bodies pressed together as soon as possible. It only took a few seconds before we had achieved that goal, our lips and tongues again touching while my hands stroked his now naked cock that was definitely as hard as he had promised it would be.

Meanwhile, my boyfriend fumbled around on the nightstand, trying to find the condom and lube while still kissing me. He finally gave up at multitasking, pushing me onto the bed and onto my back. He opened the condom and slipped it on skillfully, squirting some lube onto it and then ordering me to spread my legs so he could put some lube on my pussy as well. I happily complied. Now prepared for what he truly wanted to do, my boyfriend slipped his sheathed cock inside my pussy, and I wrapped my legs around his legs. Missionary is one of the worst positions for me in terms of cumming, but I still love it for the intimacy it provides while watching my lover reach his climax. My partner knew that, and he was happy to put on a show for me as he worked through the motions of reaching orgasm, thrusting and pounding inside me, moaning louder and louder as he finally released his load. When he collapsed on top of me in exhaustion and relief, I ran my hands through his long hair and held him close, listening to his breathing and feeling his sweat on his body. I loved the feeling of my man lying on my body post-orgasm.

Eventually, he regained his wits, and my boyfriend scooted off of me onto the bed with a smile. He removed the condom and put it on a tissue on the nightstand, and then moved back to me to kiss me and pull me close, both of us laying on our sides and facing each other. Now that the animalistic fucking was out of the way, the sex could finally begin between us.

Among the toys that my boyfriend was anxious to use that day was an underbed bondage set. He had bought it since his headboard wasn’t bondage friendly but he very much wanted to include bondage in his bedroom. He had already installed the straps under the mattress and had the cuffs waiting for my wrists and ankles. He gave my bottom a smack and ordered me, “Roll over on your stomach in the center of the bed so that I can tie you up and give you the spanking you deserve for being such a naughty girl and having sex with your boyfriend in the middle of a work day.”

Eager to comply, I placed a pillow on the center of the bed, and then I moved onto my stomach over the pillow while he stood next to the bed. He started with my right wrist, securing the hand in the restraint. He progressed down to the right ankle, binding it tightly as well. Next, my boyfriend scooted around the king-sized bed, cinching up my left ankle and finally immobilizing me completely by putting my leftt wrist into the restraint. I tried to wiggle, but he had me very tightly bound which is exactly what he wanted. He then pulled on my ponytail, forcing my eyes to look into his.

“You’re now totally under my command. You have no choice but to submit to what I’m going to do to you.”

“Yes, Daddy,” I replied. He was right. At this point, I was his willing prisoner, anxious to see what he had in mind for our kinky fuckery that day.

He didn’t keep me waiting long as he released my hair and then grabbed a blindfold from his nightstand which he slipped over my eyes. Now I couldn’t move and I couldn’t see. The kinky suspense was building, and I was loving every minute of it. He traced his hands down my back and onto my bottom where he gently caressed my naked globes, his fingers meandering closer and closer to my asshole. He had a fondness for sticking his fingers in my ass without warning, an action I loved but that was not to be this time. Instead, he slapped my bottom briskly and then moved off the bed.

I could hear him rustling around in the shopping bag I had brought. What was he looking for? He’d given me a very specific list of things to bring that included his favorite toys of mine including that damn riding crop which I hated but he loved. Still, I was his submissive, and I was going to do what he asked of me, so I brought the crop. The noises from the bag stopped, and then I heard the lid pop open on the lube that was already on his nightstand. Since he had thoroughly lubed up my pussy earlier before he fucked it, I knew that could mean only one thing: he was about to insert the large butt plug I had brought along.

Sure enough, I felt the cold lube dripping down my crack as my boyfriend whispered in my ear, “Are you ready to take the butt plug like a good girl, Little One?”

“Yes, sir. Please put the butt plug in my naughty ass,” was my desperate reply. I loved having the butt plug inserted, and he knew it. It was a power trip for him to use my ass however he wanted, but he also got off on knowing that I wanted him to use me anally. Slowly I felt the very cold glass pressing into my ass, slipping gently in until it hit the point of resistance. Then, suddenly, there was the painful pop that always made me moan from a combination of pain and pleasure as the plug moved past my sphincter and all the way into my bottom. I tried to wiggle a bit as my boyfriend adjusted the plug to his liking, but there was no hope. He had me cinched tightly, so the wiggling of my bottom was all I could accomplish. My boyfriend took that as a sign that he needed to start spanking me.

“Hold still!” Daddy commanded as he smacked each side of my butt with his bare hand.

“Ow!” I responded to his sharp and unexpected spanks.

“Well,” he said, “If you’re not a cooperative little girl, then Daddy is going to spank you for not behaving. You should know this by now.”

I sighed. “Yes, Daddy,” and with that verbal acceptance, my boyfriend continued the spanking he had started. He was peppering my bottom thoroughly with spanks from his strong hand, occasionally letting the spanks fall onto my upper thighs which he knew was a turn on for me. As he spanked, I tried to hold still, but I was wiggling a bit. A girl can’t help it when her Daddy is reddening her bottom!

“Ok, Little One, I think you’ve had enough of a warm up. It’s time to punish you for having mid-day sex with your boyfriend like a naughty little slut,” he informed me.

“You do realize the irony of you spanking me for that…” I pointed out. He responded with a smack from an implement which elicited a yelp from me in return.

“Yes, but I’m not worried about logic at this point,” he said. “I’m more concerned with punishing your naughty bottom. Now tell me what it is I’m using on your bottom right now,” he commanded as he gave me several more swats.

“That’s the wooden hairbrush,” I replied.

“Correct!” He rewarded my answer with several more smacks of the hairbrush scattered around my bottom and thighs which more than got my attention.

“Daddy, I’ll be good,” I began promising.

“I very much doubt that!” he stated as he continued spanking. “This was your idea to come over here like a naughty girl and have sex with me in the middle of the day. That’s not the sign of a girl who plans to behave!”

“Ok, true,” I agreed with a laugh. “But I promise I’ll only misbehave with you, Daddy!”

“I’m ok with that,” he chuckled, “But I’m still going to keep spanking you.” And true to his word, I got several more swats with the hairbrush before I heard its wood clank against the nightstand when he set it down. However, I was certain that I wasn’t free from being spanked. Sure enough, another implement soon hit my tender bottom.

“Ouch!” I cried out. I heard my boyfriend chuckling with sadistic pleasure. He enjoyed spanking me every bit as much as I like having him spank me.

“So what am I using on your ass now, Little Girl?” he asked.

“The small leather paddle,” I replied.

“Correct!” he responded, and he rewarded my correct answer with a series of swats moving up one side and down the other of my bottom and legs.

“Daddy,” I began begging again, “I don’t think you need to spank me anymore.”

Suddenly the spanking stopped and I felt him jerk my head upward using my ponytail as a handle. He began talking directly into my ear.

“Who gets to decide when your spanking is finished?” he asked.

“You do, Daddy,” I replied with a semi-defiant sigh which was rewarded by a crack of the paddle on my ass while his other hand continued pulling my head back by its ponytail.

“That’s right, young lady,” he said, “And I am definitely not done spanking you yet. I am also not done fucking you either.”

With that, he released my head. I heard him putting down the paddle and picking up his next choice for torturing me. He began running it up and down my spine, moving past the butt plug and onto my pussy.

“That’s the damn crop!” I said even before he asked me.

“Correct again!” he replied, rewarding my unrequested answer with a sharp crack of the crop on my sit spot.

“OUCH!” I hollered out, and he laughed at my pain.

“It’s always so much fun to crop you,” he added. “So little work on my part and so much screaming on yours.”

I continued yelping and he continued randomly striking my bottom and thighs with the crop. Because he had my legs tightly stretched and bound, that meant the sensitive insides of my thighs were easily accessible with the crop, a situation he was happy to take advantage of. After quite a few targeted slaps to this most sensitive zone, I finally heard the crop set down on the nightstand.

“I’m ready to fuck you again,” he stated factually. “I’m going to loosen your legs so that you can get up on your knees with your butt in the air. I’m going fuck you from behind while your face is in the bed and your pussy is spread and open just for me.”

With that, he did as he had promised, loosening up the leg restraints just enough for me to get on my knees but not to move an inch more. I wasn’t going to be going anywhere he didn’t want me. I still had the blindfold on, a butt plug up my ass, a red bottom, and a very wet pussy. After getting me in the position he wanted me in, I heard him opening another condom from off of the nightstand, and then I assumed he was slipping it on his cock which was likely rock hard again after all of the kinky foreplay.

I felt the bed shift as he climbed back onto it. The next thing I knew, he was pulling the butt plug out of my ass. From previous sessions, he knew it was too uncomfortable for me when he vaginally fucked me in this position while the glass butt plug was still in, and pain was not the goal at this point. Instead, my boyfriend now wanted me to experience pure pleasure.

It didn’t take long for him to accomplish his goal. He plunged his cock deep into my wet pussy which caused me to call out loudly, “Oh, Daddy!” He laughed at my response, and he took it as a sign that I wanted more of the same. He continued thrusting his cock in and out of me, quickly causing my moans to get very loud. He already had me so aroused that it wasn’t going to take long before I burst into orgasm. With a few more powerful thrusts, I reached that point, screaming out, “Daddy! Oh, Daddy!” as I came. I tried to let my knees drop after the orgasm, but he stopped me with a sharp smack from his hand on my already reddened bottom.

“Did I tell you that you could change position?” he demanded.

“No, Daddy,” I truthfully responded.

“Well, I guess I’ll just have to punish you for that, too,” he retorted, as if that wasn’t already part of his evil plan. I felt his still hard cock slipping out of my pussy, the arousal fluid and remaining lube dripping down my legs. My boyfriend stepped off the bed again, this time moving up to my right hand. He loosened the restraints on my wrist just enough for me to prop myself up; he repeated the same action on my left hand, too. I was now on my hands and knees with my red butt in the air and my blindfolded eyes facing the headboard. The only question was what he had planned next.

I soon found out as the mini-floggers came down on my bottom. I had one and he had one, so he liked putting one mini-flogger in each hand and thrashing my bottom with both, using one after the other in a rhythmic beating. He always started slowly, building up the pain and pleasure from the floggers’ bites. He was very good at using those floggers on me, better than anyone else who had ever tried. I was soon moaning both from pleasure and stinging pain as he repeatedly struck my sore ass, turning me on even more than I already was.

Suddenly, the flogging on my bottom stopped. Out of nowhere, he began flogging my shoulders. This was new and completely unexpected. I wasn’t sure what to make of it. Did I like it? Did I not? Once the shock of the novelty wore off, I decided that I preferred him flogging my ass, but the flogging of my shoulders made an interesting alternative. I requested, “Daddy, please flog my ass more,” and he happily complied, striking my bottom in rhythm with the music he had playing in the background.

When he could tell I was getting close to my breaking point, my boyfriend stopped the flogging. He dropped the implements on the bed, and then his hands began caressing my ass, a feeling I truly loved. His strong hands on my stinging ass were truly a treat. But he still wasn’t done with me. I felt him moving behind me once again, and then his cock suddenly plunged in my ass which was already lubed and waiting because of the butt plug I had been wearing earlier.

After all of the intense spanking foreplay, the anal sex was powerful in a way I had never experienced. I quickly began screaming with pleasure, “Oh God, Oh God, OH GOD!” as his cock pounded in and out of my ass, his abdomen slamming against my tender cheeks. I could tell my screams were only turning him on more, as he began pounding even harder and faster, bringing me to the brink of orgasm and then finally pushing me over in one of the most powerful orgasms I have ever had. As I came, I kept screaming, “Daddy! Oh God, Daddy!” The orgasm seemed like it went on for half of forever, and my pleasure pushed my boyfriend over the edge. I could hear his moans building until suddenly, he too found release. His body stiffened as his load released in my ass. We both held still for a few minutes until collapse seemed like the only option for us.

He released one of my legs and one of my arms from the restraints so I could lay on my side; he cuddled up behind me with his arm over my sweating and satisfied body. His heavy breathing was on my neck which his lips also gently brushed. I took off the blindfold and snuggled up closer to him, feeling his exhausted body pressing against mine.

One we had both recovered from the amazing orgasms we had just shared with each other, my boyfriend quipped, “I guess all the neighbors now know that my name is either Daddy or God.”

“Oh, God!” I exclaimed once again. “I was so lost in the play that I completely forgot we were in an apartment complex. I’m so sorry I was screaming so loudly.”

He laughed loudly and said, “Hey, remember? I’m an exhibitionist. I’m totally proud of the fact that my neighbors now know I can make a woman cum so hard that she screams the way you did.”

“Well, when you put it that way…” I giggled. I used my free hand to release my other hand, and then I released my one remaining restrained ankle. I rolled over so I could nuzzle my lover and kiss his lips again. My hands went to his beard, caressing and touching it with gratitude and pleasure after all we’d just shared.

Eventually we accepted that we needed to get on with our day, no matter how lovely the “nooner” had been. Four hours after I arrived and really needing to head to my last appointment of the day, I was finally leaving his place from what was supposed to be a one or two-hour fuck session. Considering our first time in bed together had lasted eight hours, we clearly were not  a couple for quickies. Even on the way out the door, we still had our hands and lips all over each other.

As I stepped onto the front porch, I turned back and put my arms around my lover’s shoulders. I gave him a deep kiss, and he returned the kiss. Something felt wrong, though. It took me a couple of kisses before I realized what it was.

“I’m not wearing any shoes,” I suddenly said to my boyfriend.

He looked down at my feet. “No, you’re not,” he laughed. “Maybe you should come back in and fix that problem.” And so I came back in his apartment, slipped on the shoes I had kicked off by the door on the way in, and headed back out the door for a second goodbye.

“You know it was a really great session when your boyfriend fucks you so well that forget to put on your shoes when you leave,” I said as I smiled and laughed. With that, I gave him one final kiss and headed back to my car with my bag of sex toys to face the real world again.

©2017 WoodLeatherLace.com

Standing at the Intersection

(This is a random memory of a past lover. His name has been changed to protect his identity though he certainly isn’t innocent!)

I had just begun dating a new lover. We had only been out a few times, and we’d always ended up back at my place due to logistics. When an opportunity popped up for me to go over to his place for the evening, we decided to take advantage of it. He had only told me the largest intersection he lived near; he hadn’t given me an exact address yet because I hadn’t needed it.

As we texted in preparing for the date, I asked him if I could get the exact address where he lived. I told him that I could go to the big intersection near his house and stand there and call out, “Hey! Does anyone know where Mark lives? I want to go over to his place so he can fuck me in the ass.” However, I was convinced that I would suddenly meet a lot of guys named “Mark” at that point.

My lover agreed that not only would I meet a lot of men named Mark, but in his neighborhood, I would meet a lot of men named Marcos, too!

Thankfully, he gave me his exact address so I didn’t have to go stand in the intersection looking for him. I found his place easily, and he did an excellent job of fucking me in the ass. I’m guessing people at that nearby intersection probably got to hear my screams of pleasure when he did! 🙂

©2017 WoodLeatherLace.com

I Wanted Dessert

When the friendship request showed up in my Fetlife inbox, I didn’t recognize the avatar, so I clicked through to see whom it was. When I landed on his page, my first thought was, “YUM!” That’s not my typical response to most men’s pictures, but for some reason, this man really did it for me. His profile indicated he was single, and reading over his fetishes, he looked like he would probably be a good match for me in many ways. However, that nagging doubt in me didn’t think a man who was that good looking could possibly be interested in me. Still…. I clicked accept, and then I wrote him a note thanking him for friending me. I hoped that was enough to let him know I would be interested in talking more with him. If not, there wouldn’t be too much egg on my face. I hit send, and I waited.

And waited. And waited. Finally, five days later when I had already given up hope, he responded, asking to chat and see where things might go between us. I was thrilled to my core. This super-hot guy wanted to see if we might have enough chemistry to play and have sex! We spent way too much time chatting that first night, and after a few hours, we both knew we wanted to meet up. We switched to texting, and we planned our first date for two nights later. Included in our discussions were those sometimes initially awkward topics of condoms, hard limits, pubic hair styles and such. Both of us clearly were hoping that the date would go well and would lead to kinky sex.

The night of the date finally arrived. We had picked a restaurant halfway between our homes. Both of us were late thanks to a traffic mess, but I got there first and was seated at the table that was still waiting for us. Not long after, he walked in the door. When I saw him in person, my first thought was, “Ok, we can leave now and go back to my place. I want to fuck him.” He was just that desirable to me.

As he approached the table, I had to keep from throwing myself at him. I did, however, decide a hug would be appropriate. I think I surprised him with that move, but he returned the hug willingly. We sat at the table in chairs adjacent to each other. While I’d been fairly calm until this point, my nerves suddenly kicked in. Sitting in such close proximity to him was turning me on. I wasn’t sure how I was supposed to get through a meal when I was next to this gorgeous man whom I just wanted to fuck.

Conversation flowed easily between us, just as it had when we were messaging and texting. We had plenty to talk about. He kept slipping his hand under the table to put it on my knee, but since it was our first date, he behaved himself beyond that. When we finally finished our meal, he asked me if I wanted dessert. I responded to him, “Nothing that they have on the menu here.” His eyes lit up since he knew exactly what I had in mind for dessert, and he was more than willing to partake in the same.

Knowing implicitly he had my consent, he got up, pulled me gently to a standing position and kissed me ever so carefully on the lips. A shiver went through my entire body, and I began shaking. I wanted this man more than anything I could imagine in that moment. The pheromones he was giving off were just overwhelming. We couldn’t get out of the restaurant fast enough.

Once outside, we found that the sun had set and a cool breeze had started blowing. He put his arm around my shoulder as we walked toward my car. While he thought he was doing something romantic, which it was, I was incredibly grateful for his body warmth as well! Finally arriving at my car which was parked at the far end of the lot, we turned to face each other. Now that we were no longer surrounded by so many others, we felt free to show each other how we were actually feeling. His tongue parted my lips and mine greeted him in response. We exchanged kiss after kiss, enjoying the foreplay that had begun between us. I let him know in between kisses that I had shaved my pussy for him, something which aroused him further. We pulled our bodies closer to each other as the intensity of our desire turned up yet another notch. His fingers traced along the revealing cleavage line of my blouse, and then he let his hand wander onto my breasts. After several minutes of this, I knew we had to stop because I was about ready to ask him to get in the back of my minivan with me. I wanted him, and I wanted him then and there.

Finally agreeing to take the rest of the evening back to my place, I told him I would text him my address while he went to his car so that we didn’t have to worry about getting separated on the way there. With a final kiss, he put me in the driver’s seat of my car and closed the door. I pulled out my phone, but my hands were shaking so much from arousal that I initially texted him the wrong address. After correcting my typo, I took a moment to breathe deeply and refocus. I had to get myself home safely. The night was only beginning.

I beat him back to my house, and I took advantage of the few minutes I had to freshen up. Soon he arrived. He was barely in the front door before I had thrown myself in his arms again, desperately craving more of the amazing kisses which I had unwillingly ended in the parking lot. There were no protests on his part. He dropped his toy bag and grabbed onto my body, pulling me close and kissing me fervently. His hands roamed up into my hair, and our kisses became even more passionate than before.

“Perhaps we should move this to your room,” he suggested after a few minutes of our intense greetings. I thought that was an excellent idea. I turned off the porch light, locked the door, and led him to my room which I had prepared before leaving. My toy box was sitting near the bed. Lube and condoms were on both nightstands, just for convenience. Water bottles were on both nightstands, too, since I was planning on working up a sweat with him.

The rest of the night was a blur. Time seemed irrelevant. We were the only two people in the world at that point. The only thing that mattered was our desire and bringing each other as much pleasure as possible. I was anxious at first, and I let him know that. I told him that my lack of experience was making me nervous. I told him exactly how few partners I had prior to him, and he let me know that was ok. I believed him. I knew I could trust him to make sure I was safe tonight as we began exploring each other’s bodies and desires. I was certain he was going to be a gentle Dom, but one who also would have no hesitation to spank me as hard as I needed and wanted.

Our clothes came off very quickly. We had no need for them. They were only getting in our way. What we both wanted, desperately, was to touch each other’s naked skin, to feel the heat of our bodies pressed together, to hear to the other’s moans of pleasure. Our mouths wandered around each other’s bodies, finding various places to nibble and suck. Earlobes. Throats. Shoulders. Fingers. Breasts. Nipples. Bellies. Thighs. His cock. My clit. His balls. My vulva. As our mouths wandered freely, so did our hands, touching every part of each other that they could find.

Having made a sufficient initial exploration of each other’s bodies, he laid down on the bed, his head just below the pillows. “Sixty-nine me,” he commanded. I willingly obeyed. I straddled my pussy over his face and took my mouth down toward his cock. As I pulled his member into my mouth, I felt his lips beginning to explore my pussy. As I went deeper, so did he. As his tongue hit my clit for the first time, I let out a gasp which made me drop his cock from my mouth. He responded with a slap to my ass and the words, “Don’t stop.” Regaining my focus, I moved onto his balls, pulling them gently into my mouth one at a time. He continued his lingual probing as well. What he was doing to me was very distracting, and I was having a hard time concentrating on my job!

When he could tell I wasn’t capable of continuing both cunnilingus and fellatio at the same time, he instructed me to let him up. I did, feeling him grabbing onto my ass as he sat up. While staying on all fours, I moved forward a bit on the bed to give him more room to access all of my delicate parts which were beyond craving for an orgasm at this point.

What he did next surprised me utterly, though. I suddenly felt his tongue delicately rimming my asshole, causing an intense pleasure I had never experienced before. “Ooooohhhhh!” came the combination of a moan and squeal from my lips as I was overwhelmed with excitement and surprise by this new activity. He let out a laugh, and asked, “Does that feel good, babygirl?”

When I responded yes to his question, I was greeted with a finger being shoved into my pussy to lubricate it, and then he quickly shoved that same finger into my ass causing me to emit another scream of surprise and pleasure. He already knew I had an anal fixation, and he knew that I was more than happy to accept his probing of any orifice he chose with almost any instrument he selected. As his one hand was busy with fucking my ass, the other found my clit and my g-spot. Yet another scream came from me as his hands began to work magic on all my sensitive nether regions. It didn’t take long before his touch brought me to my first orgasm of the night, an intense release that was so very needed.

After having brought me to the ultimate pleasure, my new lover was ready to enjoy his share of the receiving, too. He released my body, and he instructed me to flip onto my back so that he could enter me missionary style. He quickly grabbed a condom off the nightstand, ripping it open and slipping it on. I was thrilled to be in a position that would let me see the looks of pleasure on his face as we fucked. As I quickly dropped onto the bed and spread my legs around him, he leaned forward and kissed me, hard, in order to firm up his erection a bit more. As our tongues were touching, he began leaning his body all the way down. His cock easily slipped into my well-lubricated pussy which was drenched from all the foreplay. I wrapped my legs around his, and he began to slowly thrust inside me.

Nothing is quite like having a lover’s cock inside of me after a sexual drought: seeing his face, hearing his groans of pleasure, feeling the slapping of his balls against my pussy. My hands ran through his gorgeous graying hair, and my eyes focused on the intense expressions of pleasure on his face. I wrapped my legs closer around his body, asking him—no begging him—to cum for me. He happily obliged. He let out a moan that sent shivers through me as his pleasure became mine.

Collapsing with exhaustion next to me, my lover and I exchanged grateful looks at each other. He pulled me close to him, allowing us to cuddle up and share that intimate time after our orgasms. We began talking again, and no longer overwhelmed with that tension of desperate desire, we began truly enjoying each other’s company. Periodically we exchanged kisses, keeping the sexual mood of the evening going even while we were saving up energy for the next round. Our hands never stopped touching each other’s bodies, constantly finding new places to caress and arouse.

Eventually the talking and kissing and cuddling led to desire for more intense activities again. He had promised me that he would be spanking, licking and fucking me our first time together, and having done two of those three, he set out to do the third. I was ordered to get on my hands and knees in front of him, and soon his hand found the rhythm of spanking my ass that would make me squirm. However, he had promised me a good, hard spanking, one that would turn my ass red, and to get closer to that goal, he grabbed a mini-flogger from his bag. Though he hadn’t had much practice with it, my lover soon elicited squeals of pain and pleasure as he repeatedly flogged my ass. He was a natural at using it on me, creating a burn that stung yet felt incredibly good. Eventually deciding that he had used that implement enough on me, he tossed it aside and then pulled a small leather paddle from his bag. Taking careful aim, he let loose a loud smack on my ass that made me question why I had been begging him for a spanking. As his free hand found its way to my dripping wet pussy, I remembered why. He began to rub my g-spot with one hand, alternating his movements with the occasional smack on my ass with the paddle in the other hand. My screams and moans became thoroughly mixed together. Finally, the pleasure overtook the pain, and I let go into an amazing orgasm.

Once I recovered from the intense pleasure my lover had given me, I turned to him and smiled. He was still naked in my bed, and his raging hard-on told me that he wanted more release, too. As I began sucking on his cock, he let me know that seeing a woman’s eyes looking up at him while she licked the head of his cock was one of the most arousing things for him. With that bit of intimate information, I began making sure that I could see his eyes as often as possible while my tongue was circling the head of his cock. Over and over again I went down on his cock, occasionally going all the way down to his balls and letting them have their fair share of time in my mouth as well. I even went all the way down his taint, licking carefully, and finding his asshole which loved my tongue just as much as his cock did. I had never rimmed a man before, but I found it to be a sensation unlike any other, one that was as enjoyable for me as it was for him.

Having pushed my lover to his breaking point, he pressed me down on my back again while I willingly complied so that he could have his way with me. Another condom was obtained and put on his rock-hard cock which then quickly found its way into my pussy. Once again our bodies found that unique rhythm, that pounding action, that horny fucking which makes us all into wild animals. We fucked each other desperately, kissing each other periodically between thrusts, whispering words of desire. Finally, he came inside me, moaning with pleasure and collapsing on top of me.

The rest of the night was truly a blur. We talked for many hours of it when we weren’t busy licking me, sucking him, spanking me and fucking each other. After the night’s festivities were finally over, I semi-rhetorically asked him if he planned to come back. He pretended to think about it: “Hmm. Let me see. Yes!?!” We cuddled closer and kissed again, both thrilled with the prospect of more hot and kinky sex between us in the days and weeks to come.

Eight hours had passed since he first walked through my door, and “dessert” was finally over. After we kissed goodbye at the front door, he headed home, and I went back up to my messy room. I collapsed into bed with a huge smile on my face. I was incredibly glad I’d accepted that friendship request!

©2017 WoodLeatherLace.com

A New Pervertible

31vpbrhxbulIn the kink world, “pervertibles” are sex toys that are made from something that wasn’t originally intended for sexual or kinky purposes. One of the most common is a hairbrush: Meant for brushing hair, but often used for spanking naughty bottoms. The handle can be used for penetrating various orifices as well. Other common household items such as wooden spoons, blind dowels, hangers, and belts get commandeered for spanking implements as well. Vegetables such as cucumbers and carrots get used as dildos. Perverted minds find kinky things everywhere they look (and that’s a compliment).

One of the guys I dated created a new pervertible that I would never have dreamed up. He was spanking me and fingering me in my living room while I was bent over a couch. Then he stopped for a minute to walk away. I assumed he was going for his bag of goodies which he left by the front door in order to find something to use on me. However, his eyes had found something else: my Thera Cane.

The Thera Cane is supposed to be a massage tool. My massage therapist suggested I buy it to help release tension in a certain place in my back that I knot up when I get stressed out. She said she personally was on her third as family members had permanently borrowed the first two she had bought. It can be really helpful in releasing stress when used in its intended manner.

For some reason, the perverted guy I was dating took one look at it and thought it would be great for penetrating me and releasing stress in some very different ways than I had ever envisioned. The curved end did some massage time in my pussy, and then the straight end did some penetrating in my ass. My partner said it was easy to hold onto and use. From my perspective, it certainly was a different experience! I think with a little more practice and some lube, it could be a really fun toy. I certainly am never going to look at it again without thinking kinky thoughts!

(I am sure that the manufacturers of this massage tool in no way endorse this post nor support its use for anything but its intended purpose. As with all things pervertible, use at your own risk.)

©2016 WoodLeatherLace.com

 

Naughty Elf

Officially I’m known as Elf #3269. I’ve been an “employee” at the North Pole for seven years now. I say that with a bit of tongue in cheek because we’re not paid workers. No. We’re slaves. We work for nothing except room and board. We work all year long except for two weeks after Christmas when we get unpaid vacation so that we can lounge around on the luxurious icebergs near the North Pole. (That’s sarcasm, just in case you missed it.) I guess I should be grateful I’m not starving in a jungle or floating through space, but still, I don’t like having to do what I’m told rather than doing what I want to do.

Perhaps that’s why I earned my nickname, Naughty Elf. Everyone at the North Pole calls me that and with good reason. I’ve earned that reputation fair and square. I just don’t do well following directions. I get distracted by the toys I’m making or the ideas in my head. I see a reindeer go by, and I want to go play with him. It’s not that I try to be a naughty elf. I just can’t seem to be a devoted one.

Even when I’m on house duty helping Mrs. Claus in the kitchen, I still find myself in tons of trouble. I can’t tell you how many times Mrs. Claus has put me over her lap or bent me over her kitchen counter to reprimand me in a rather painful way for my misdoings. Again, I don’t try to be naughty in the kitchen. I just find trouble, or maybe it finds me.

Last week is just one such example. I was on potato peeling duty, a task that’s given as punishment but which I actually kind of enjoy. As I was peeling the spuds, I noticed that the potato peels could be used to create a piece of abstract artwork, and so as I took off the skins, I turned them into a really cool looking picture of what I think the ocean looks like.

However, Mrs. Claus was not impressed at all. When she came over after thirty minutes of me working unsupervised and found the potato pot almost empty but the counter almost full of carefully arranged peels, she kind of blew a gasket. Ok, she did lose it completely. She hollered out, “Naughty Elf, whatever am I going to do with you?” I didn’t know how to answer that in a way that wouldn’t get me in more trouble. However, since Mrs. Claus was already removing her apron and rolling up her sleeves, I knew exactly how she was going to handle the situation that day: the same way she handled my behavior almost every time I was in her kitchen.

Mrs. Claus pulled on my ear and dragged me over toward the eating area where a chair was awaiting her arrival. All the other elves became very quiet, and while they were pretending to keep working, I knew what they were actually doing was watching carefully so that they could see my cute little elf bottom on display. They knew that within a few minutes, Mrs. Claus would have it both bare and red.

The kitchen elves were not disappointed. As soon as she sat down, Mrs. Claus lifted my red and white dress up while simultaneously pulling me over her lap. My elf hat fell off as my head went downward toward the floor in one quick motion. Before I could even utter a word of protest, Mrs. Claus pulled a wooden spoon from her deep skirt pockets and set to work peppering my bottom with that instrument of many uses. I really preferred she’d just use it for stirring, but she likes to use it to redden my bottom more often than not! She told me that she wanted me to remember every time I stirred a pot that the spoon I was using could end up on my bare bottom lickety-split.

I don’t know how long Mrs. Claus worked on getting my bottom and thighs into the Christmas spirit. She had pulled down my elf panties pretty early on as they were obstructing her work of reaching that perfect shade of crimson that we all associate with Christmas cheer. I was just hoping that her spoon was the only weapon of culinary creation that she planned to use on my poor bottom. Sometimes Mrs. Claus felt extra inspired, and on those days, a silicone spatula might also end up coming out of her pockets to join in the fun of reddening my bottom. Well, it was fun for the other elves enjoying the show in the kitchen. For me, not so much. I much preferred entertaining myself with the potato peels!

Then there was the one time I was really naughty in the kitchen. I let a whole pot of soup burn because I was busy playing with sprinkles I found in the cabinets. I didn’t mean to burn the pot and the food in it. I didn’t try to catch it on fire. It just happened so suddenly. Mrs. Claus said that nothing burns that badly in a short amount of time, but I think she proved herself wrong when she set my bottom on fire that day. Since she was so mad at me, she bent me over the kitchen counter and used a bread board like a paddle on my bare bottom. I yelped very loudly each time that board hit my bottom, and I sported bruises that were not only red but purple and black for the next few days after that. Unfortunately, some of the bruises were low enough to be seen beneath the hem of my short elf skirt, so the other elves felt free to torment me and remind me of my mistakes each time they saw the errors of my ways marked on my backside.

What I hated most of all, even more than the spoon, even more than the spatula, and even more than even that horrid bread board, was corner time. Mrs. Claus was extra mean about corner time. When the Head Elf spanked me in the workshop, he never put me in the corner afterward. He always wanted me back at work as quickly as possible. And when Santa himself spanked me, well, that’s a different story I’ll tell you about soon. Santa certainly didn’t end things with corner time! But Mrs. Claus was a stickler about putting bad little elves like me in the corner with our dresses tucked up or our pants pulled down so that all of the kitchen staff that day could enjoy the view and be reminded of what happens when elves go bad. I hated being on display like that for the other elves to see all my intimate parts and to torment me when they walked by. The only good thing about corner time was that as long as I didn’t forget and start rubbing my bottom, I would be left in peace to daydream for as long as Mrs. Claus deemed necessary to enhance my punishment. Sometimes it was minutes, and sometimes it was hours. It all depended how soon Mrs. Claus wanted to risk putting me back to work in the kitchen.

Then there was Head Elf and his spankings. I did not like Head Elf, and the feeling was mutual. He was a bit of a sadist, truth be told. He was always looking for reasons to spank me. Unfortunately, I gave him way too many legitimate reasons to spank me, so he didn’t have to look too hard. While he had started spanking me with just his hand, he soon realized that he was hurting his hand as much as my bottom. Once he made that realization, he would go into the Defective Toy Room to find something else to torture my bottom with before the toy was recycled or used in the furnace for fuel. I never knew what he might find to spank me with. Once it was a Hot Wheels track that hadn’t quite bent in the right direction for a racetrack, but it set my bottom on fire quickly and painfully under Head Elf’s guidance.

More recently, Head Elf had found a defective ping pong paddle. While the paddle was useless for hitting a ball, he thought that it would be incredibly useful in spanking the bad behavior out of one Naughty Elf, namely me. When he emerged from the Defective Toy Room tapping that paddle against his palm, I knew my bottom was going to get a real “treat” that day. I was not disappointed. Sitting on Santa’s favorite chair where he would often watch over the workshop, Head Elf pulled me across his lap and set to work using the ping pong paddle as though I was a little white ball that needed to be hit across the room. Having removed my skirt and panties from his way before starting, Head Elf didn’t give me any kind of warm up at all that day. No, he went straight for the kill. My bottom was bright red very quickly, and it was giving off enough heat to melt a snow pile or an icicle. Of course, I didn’t suggest those ideas to him for fear that the sadist might actually stick an icicle up my bum or plop me in the nearest snow drift to “cool off” after his handiwork.

Then there was the day that Head Elf found a paddle ball toy for my bottom to play with. It was the kind of toy that has a ball attached to a paddle with a long elastic string. However, as it usually happens with those toys, the ball had broken off just leaving a paddle. Many parents knew the secret of using those broken paddle ball toys as disciplinary instruments, and it seemed someone had let Head Elf in on the knowledge as well. Head Elf was very quick to bend my naughty elf self over a wooden stool and to flip my skirt up. He gave my bottom several hard spanks before realizing he had forgotten to pull down my panties. Perhaps it was the loud and suggestive whispers of the elves on the line behind us that clued him in. I heard one of them say, “Oh, man, isn’t he going to bare her bottom for us to see it turn red?” I wasn’t happy with that elf for giving Head Elf the reminder. I would have been quite content to get away with a pantied spanking. However, my panties soon were on the floor around my elf jingle slippers, and my bottom and thighs were being decorated with the Christmas spirit. My yelps and cries filled the workshop with sounds much more melodious than Christmas carols.

So Santa and his spankings… well, they were a reindeer of another color. It’s a little-known fact in the rest of the world that Santa is a pretty kinky dude. At the North Pole, though, all the elves know that Santa loves to get his hands (and more) on the bottoms of his staff. Mrs. Claus long ago stopped meeting Santa’s needs, saying that he kept her too busy in the kitchen for her to be able to spend time doing recreational wifely duties. She suggested he had plenty of elves and reindeer to entertain him if he still needed “it” at his age, and Santa certainly thought he did!

One of the ways in which Santa picked his new sex elves for the year was through our Christmas stockings. You may have heard that Santa puts coal in the stockings of bad little girls and boys, but that’s not true for elves. No, we get the bundles of switches that are thought to be folklore. When elves get bundle of switches in their stockings, those elves knows that the year ahead will be filled with a great deal of Santa-induced pain in the ass, and not just from the switches! The following Christmas, if an elf finds presents in his or her stocking, then the elf was relieved from being one of Santa’s personal toys after having given a full year of submissive service.

Me? I wasn’t so lucky. I had been at the North Pole for seven years now. For the past six years, I had always received a bundle of switches on Christmas morning. I was rumored to be one of Santa’s favorite elf toys because no other elf had received switches for more than a year or two in a row. Being naughty was just up Santa’s alley, and since I was Naughty Elf, I was able to please the old man in ways that the other elves weren’t as good at.

Still, I held out hope that this Christmas I would finally graduate from receiving the bundle of switches and would only have to perform my “other” duties for Santa. Maybe I would receive a nice sweater or a bocce ball set or anything but another year of spanking servitude. However, my hopes were dashed on Christmas morning when I ran to my stocking only to find my seventh bundle of switches. I knew what that meant for my Christmas day, too. While the other elves began their vacation on this day, those of us who got switches also got beatings to end the North Pole year. There were about twenty of us elves with bundles, but I knew from years past that I would be the last to get my switching. Santa always had something special in mind for me.

Sure enough, I was right. Santa began reading off the names of the other bad little elves, and one by one, they approached Santa with their birch bundles. I actually did enjoy watching the other elves pulling down their underwear and placing themselves face down and bottoms up on Santa’s chair so that he could whip their bottoms thoroughly in honor of the Christmas festivities. While I knew that my bottom would be experiencing the same treatment at the end of the day, it was kind of nice not to be the only one on display. Santa was particularly mean compared to Mrs. Claus and Head Elf as he took away the miscreant elves’ underwear for the rest of the calendar year. Talk about a way to cool off sore bottoms! Losing our underwear also left the welts from the switches on display for all the elves to see over the next week.

It was a long day of Santa spanking the elves of his choice with a few exciting blowjobs thrown in, too, by elves who had begged for mercy through an exchange of oral licks instead of switch licks. Finally, I was called up to the front of the room for my turn bending over Santa’s chair. Much to my surprise, though, Santa changed his procedure for the first time that day. “Naughty Elf,” he said, “Since this is your seventh year of receiving a bundle of switches from me, I thought we would change things up to make the day more exciting for you.”

“Um, thank you, Santa,” I said, trying not to sound sarcastic because I truly didn’t want to increase my discipline that day. I was hoping to be able to *not* sleep on my stomach before the week was over! However, Santa had different plans. He sat down in his chair. As he grabbed my waist, he pulled me over his lap in a position that I was all too familiar with from my time over Mrs. Claus’ lap earlier that week and on many other occasions.

I felt Santa’s fingers caressing my elf ass, and I could hear his breathing changing. He asked me if I had been a good little elf in the past year. I knew the answer to that, as did all the other members of the workshop. How many spankings had I received that year? At least one a week. Sometimes even three or four. Probably at least a hundred spankings that year. No, I had definitely lived up to my reputation as Naughty Elf. So I responded to him, “No, Santa, I’ve been a very naughty elf this year. I’ve been spanked long and hard on many occasions by Mrs. Claus, by Head Elf, and even by you.”

“Hmm,” Santa contemplated. “I guess then we’ll have to give you an extra hard punishment today for all your naughtiness in the past year so that maybe next year will be better for you.”

Knowing I had no choice in the matter, I decided to comply with Santa’s wish for me to be submissive and compliant. “Yes, Santa. I deserve for you to punish me like the naughty little girl elf that I am. Please teach me a lesson that I won’t forget.”

I could hear Santa groan with pleasure, and I could also feel his cock growing beneath his velvety red pants. I knew that it would be my job to take care of that erection later, after Santa had disciplined me thoroughly. For now, I felt a very cold breeze on my rear as Santa lifted my skirt and began rubbing my panties. He began spanking my thighs, working his way up and down both legs. He suddenly yanked my panties into my butt crack, giving him a bit more area to spank, and he took advantage of that newfound skin. However, it didn’t satisfy him for long.

“Naughty Elf,” Santa said, pulling me to a standing position, “Please remove your underwear and give it to me for safe keeping for the next week.” I complied, handing over my dignity with the panties, knowing that my spanking was about to get much worse now that Santa would be able to redden my entire bottom. I was correct. With one deft move, Santa put me back over his lap and returned to using his hand to teach me what a naughty girl I had been. Periodically he said something like, “Naughty little elf!” but I wasn’t really paying attention. Unlike my other spankers, Santa didn’t ask questions when he spanked, so I didn’t have to worry about getting the answers right. Santa also took periodic breaks to run his hands under my body, pulling and pinching on my pussy and sometimes even squeezing my clit before returning to spanking my bottom. Santa was a horny old bastard, that was for sure.

Finally, Santa’s spanking hand wore out. My “special treat” was over, and now I was subject to the same punishment as the rest of the switch-receiving elves. Knowing my fate, I waited for Santa to stand, and then I quickly bent over his chair leaving my already reddened bottom up in the air so that all could see every inch and every detail of my nether regions. There was nothing to do now but yelp in pain each time the birch bundle came down on my bottom. Nothing stung quite like the bite of the birch, and Santa knew that. It’s why he saved it for his special Christmas gift to the elves and to his horny self.

Eventually Santa had put more stripes on my bottom than I thought was possible. He patted me on the bottom to let me know that my punishment was over. I slowly and painfully stood, knowing that as much as things hurt now, it would be worse tomorrow. I was hoping that my duty toward Santa was done for the evening because I was so sore, but it was not to be. Santa whispered in my ear, “Go to the barn now. We’re going to finish off the evening with a little more rough and tumble on your bottom, so be sure to grab the magic sleigh lubricant.” From years of experience, I knew exactly what that meant.

I slowly walked out to the barn, and as I went past the reindeer munching on their oats and carrots, I grabbed a jar that was clearly labeled “magic sleigh lubricant.” Most of the barn elves knew that this was great goop for helping Santa’s sleigh land and take off with ease on his trip around the world. However, those of us who were among Santa’s sex elves knew that this lube had a secondary purpose of moistening our anal chimneys for Santa to slide in with great ease.

From so many years ending up in this position, I knew exactly what Santa wanted from me. I went to the curved front end of Santa’s sleigh, and I carefully bent over. When I did, I pulled my skirt up on my back so that my bottom and all Santa’s handiwork were on display. That would please him greatly.

I didn’t have to wait long. I soon heard that “ho ho ho” coming into the barn, and I knew that I was about to get my final Christmas “present.” I felt Santa sliding up behind me, and I felt him pushing the training crop he used on new reindeers up against my backside. I really didn’t want any more stripes on my ass, but I knew that it was not up to me. I also knew Santa wasn’t going to be able to resist using the crop on me. It was one of his favorite toys.

“Spread your legs,” I heard Santa grunt into my ear.

“Yes, Santa,” I complied, very quickly moving my feet apart and exposing my pussy. I knew where this was headed. Sure enough, I heard the sound of the crop hitting my pussy before I felt the pain jolting through my body. “Oh, Santa!” I cried. “Please don’t be too hard on me. I promise I’ll be a better elf this year.” Yet Santa didn’t seem impressed by my promise. No, he just kept spanking my pussy with that evil crop until finally he could not ignore the lure of my bottom any longer.

I heard the crop hit the barn floor, and I felt the very cold magic sleigh lube dripping into my ass. Next, I heard Santa unfastening his belt and dropping his pants to the floor. When the metal belt buckle clanked against the wood floor, I breathed a sigh of relief. Thank heavens he hadn’t decided to use his belt on me, too. My bottom just couldn’t handle any more.

I felt Santa’s hands against my bare thighs, pulling himself in toward me. His bright red cock began squeezing between my butt cheeks, and as I tried not to clench, I heard Santa moan with pleasure. He gave my ass a slap, and then came the command I knew would follow. “Say it!” he demanded.

“Fuck me, Santa! Fuck me, Santa! Fuck me, Santa!” I replied. “Please, Santa, please cum with your special snow in my tight pink asshole. I want to feel you fuck me hard, Santa!” And with that, Santa began thrusting. Naughty little elf that I was, I actually enjoyed this part of the evening more than words could say. There was nothing quite like having Santa’s cock in my aching bottom, his balls pounding against me loudly with each indecent thrust. I was truly Naughty Elf, and to prove it, I came hard with Santa. Our loud orgasms resounded throughout the barn, but the reindeer thought nothing of it. Santa used their home as his special getaway quite often all year long.

As Santa and I collapsed against the sleigh, I was grateful for the pleasure we shared. I wasn’t looking forward to another year of spankings at the North Pole, but being Santa’s special anal cum elf was a benefit I didn’t mind at all!

©2016 WoodLeatherLace.com

Our First Time

“I’d like to kiss you now,” he said, catching me off guard. I hadn’t expected to hear those words from him, yet I was ready, too. I slid across the couch and into his lap, putting my arms around his shoulders. His lips were very quickly on mine; his tongue filled my mouth far faster than I had expected. Within seconds, his hands wandered upward from my waist, and one of them grabbed onto my left breast, firmly caressing it. Clearly he was sexually attracted to me, something I hadn’t expected. Not like this anyway. As our kissing intensified, I felt myself pushing my body closer to his, wanting to feel him pressed against me.

“Perhaps we could move this to my bedroom,” I suggested after a few minutes. My king-sized bed had always been more comfortable than the old lumpy couch. He quite readily agreed to my idea. As we went up the stairs, I held his hand in mine, walking a few steps ahead of him and leading the way. When we reached our destination, he closed the door behind us, locking it for good measure. We were alone in the house, but he wanted to make sure our evening together was uninterrupted. It felt certain and safe, locking us in the room together.

We stared at each other nervously, both wanting the same things yet scared to admit we were unexpectedly here. His deep brown eyes bore into mine, showing nothing but sensual desire. He wanted me in a way I so desperately needed to be wanted. We moved to light candles in the room, and then I extinguished the overhead light. As our eyes adjusted, the ambiance of the room felt right. Subtle, romantic, yearning.

Our bodies came back together again, his arms pulling me close and his lips kissing me passionately again. My hands rose up to his soft brown beard, well-trimmed and super erotic for me. I gently ran my fingers over it while his lips continued to explore mine. My hands slid back behind his ears, running through his thick curly tangles. He pulled me even closer still, kissing me harder and taking my breath away.

As our kiss melted away, our eyes opened and gazed at each other. “I can’t believe this is really happening,” I said to him. “It is,” he replied, sliding one hand down from my waist to my ass. He gave it a sharp slap and said, “Now get into bed for me.” I complied willingly, not wanting or needing to question his orders.

I leaned back on the pillows while still propping myself up on my elbow so I could watch him begin to undress. He pulled his t-shirt over his head, leaving his chest bare for me to gaze at. He had a few gray hairs peering through the dark mass of curls on his chest, betraying his age in a way that his body did not. He was an athlete, and that was clear by his body which looked at least ten years younger than his birth certificate said he was. I was definitely enjoying the show he was unintentionally putting on for me.

Next he put the delicate contents of his pockets on my nightstand, unbuckled his belt, and let his jeans slip to the floor. A smile spread across my face as I stared at the very prominent erection underneath his navy boxer briefs. He looked up to see me smiling, and he smiled back, knowing exactly what that look was about. Climbing into the bed, I felt his warm body push me back onto the pillows, his arms surrounding me and his lips once again parting mine, his tongue frantically searching for mine. We needed each other. We needed this.

Slowly his lips began meandering away from mine, moving toward my right ear. In due time, I felt his teeth gently nibbling on my ear lobe as I let out a breathy and subtle moan. He chuckled and whispered in my ear, “You like that, do you?” as he continued with more of the same. Suddenly I squealed and squirmed as his mouth found that particular ticklish spot that always set me off. He pulled me closer as he continued to tickle me with great delight.

Suddenly I felt myself being pulled up into a sitting position with him straddling my legs and looking me in the eyes again. “You don’t need that shirt anymore,” he said, and I had to agree. Having pulled the blouse over my head, his gaze fell down on my breasts, contained in a pink lace bra. I could tell he was holding his breath for a moment, totally taken in by what was waiting in front of him for his touch. Then he reached down, freeing one breast from captivity and lowering his mouth to greet it. His tongue flicked around my nipple, and his mouth widened, taking in as much of my voluptuous breast as he could. Both of his hands were on the breasts nearest to them, one supporting his oral action and the other exploring the breast still contained behind its lace prison. He stopped to look up at me, took a deep breath, and then moved his right hand behind my back, attempting to free the bra hooks in a one-handed maneuver. As he failed miserably, I laughed, realizing that some men at midlife still hadn’t mastered bra hooks any better than most teenage boys. He teased me back for laughing at him, telling me I would pay for laughing at his struggles, but that only made me laugh more.

He finally surrendered to necessity, moving around behind me and removing my bra with great ease once he could see what he was doing. His hands pulled my long hair to one side and over my shoulder, leaving my neck vulnerable to his attention. He began kissing my neck while his hands once again wandered to my breasts, sending shivers of pleasure through my body when combined with the erotic touches of his lips on my highly sensitive neck.

Having reached as far as he easily could kiss, my lover once again returned to my front side, pulling me up to a kneeling position in front of him. The heat from our bodies radiated towards each other; our nerves were gone by this point as passion and desire had fully taken over. We inched towards each other, him pulling on my ass to get me as close as possible to his straining erection. As our kissing intensified again, we fell back on the pillows, lying side by side.

While his kisses had me distracted, he subtly slipped his hand up under my flouncy short skirt. Before I knew what he was doing, I felt his hand on my pussy, gently rubbing against the pink satin and lace panties I was wearing to match the bra that was now tossed on the floor. I looked into his eyes and happily put my hands on his beard again. I liked how this was proceeding. His tongue continued to explore my mouth while his hand rubbed intentionally, attempting to involve my clit in our actions.

Without warning it hit me: an unexpected orgasm. It wasn’t earth-shattering, but there was no denying the wave of pleasure that spiked through my body. Never before had I cum from a man’s touch before he had even removed my panties. This man, though, he had great skill. He knew what he was doing with a woman’s body. As I quickly recovered from the minor earthquake, I began wondering how much more he was going to be able to do to my body as the night proceeded.

My lover decided that the first orgasm was reason enough for me to part with the rest of my clothing. Still a bit stunned from the orgasm, I kneeled for him to pull down my skirt and then my panties. I laid back down on the bed, completely naked except those last pieces of clothing I was pushing off my legs with my feet. He gazed with appreciation at the sexual feast in front of him. The only remaining piece of clothing was his boxer briefs, and so he stood next to the bed to slide them off. A huge smile once again crossed my face as an embarrassed blush covered his. “You like it?” he asked. “Very much,” I replied, and as he scooted back to the center of the bed, I moved to meet him, my mouth encircling his hard cock as I greeted it for the first time. He moaned with pleasure, running his hands into my hair and pulling my head close to his pelvis. He wanted me sucking his cock as much as I wanted to be doing it. Both of us were finding intense pleasure in our newest activity.

When he couldn’t handle my tongue’s caresses any more, he leaned me back on the bed, kissing me with more fervor than I’d experienced from him previously. Both of us were beyond horny, wanting to experience anything and everything each of us could give the other. “Where’s your vibrator?” he unexpectedly asked. “In the top drawer of the nightstand,” I replied. “Why?” He got an evil grin on his face and stated, “Because I am going to use it on you now.” How could I argue with that?

Having found my fully charged Magic Wand, a toy he’d never had the joy of playing with before, my lover experimented with the various settings while sitting next to me. Having figured out how it worked, he commanded me, “Spread your legs for me.” I obeyed willingly. He leaned over, pushing the vibrating head against my clit. It only took a few seconds before I exploded into orgasm, moaning with pleasure. When I opened my eyes after my orgasm subsided, I could see the look on his face so clearly. He was turned on in a different way than I had seen previously that night. “That thing is powerful,” he said, “And you are a show off for being able to cum that easily.” I grinned and laughed. “You’ll have to punish me for that some time,” I replied, only to be greeted by his response of, “Oh, believe me, I intend to.”

Having put the vibrator on the nightstand, he lay back on the bed next to me, and I scooted my head onto his chest to cuddle and recover. We began the talk of lovers, intermixed with kisses and touches to various regions of our bodies that were still very aroused. He pulled me even closer to him, and kissing me, informed me in a very serious voice, “When we’re in bed together, I expect you to call me Master.” I hesitated. Could I do that? Could I surrender that much control to him and refer to him as my Master? I looked in his eyes and knew the answer. “Yes, Master,” I responded. “Good girl. You will be my Little One. From now on, I also want you to ask me for permission to cum. I want you to beg. I’ll be the one deciding when you cum. I’m a benevolent Master, though. I won’t make you wait too long. Just long enough for me to feel the pleasure of controlling you. And when you are cumming, I expect you to tell me, loudly and clearly. I want to hear that I have brought you to orgasm yet again.” I hadn’t predicted these demands from him, and yet every inch of my body and soul was happy to agree. This was the kind of Master I needed in my life. He added one more item to his list: “The next time we meet, I will be bringing my razor. I will be tying you up, and I will be shaving your pussy to make you mine.” I looked into his eyes, and responded with a kiss. “I would like that very much, Master.”

Having secured my submission, he was raring to go yet again. My orgasms brought him intense pleasure, and he was determined to see how many I could have tonight having discovered how orgasmic I actually was. I wasn’t going to stop his quest. “Flip over,” he said. I looked at him inquisitively. “Do it,” he ordered. I knew this was what I has signed up for, and so I rolled onto my stomach, not quite sure what to expect from him. “The condom is on my nightstand,” I informed him. “We don’t need it yet,” he retorted. I began to wonder earnestly what he was up to, but I didn’t have to wait long to find out. I felt several fingers inserting into my vagina coupled with a moaning statement whispered in my ear, “My God, you are so fucking wet.” “You did that to me, Master,” was my response along with a moan of my own. I felt his fingers rearranging; later he told me that he had his thumb on my g-spot and his fingers on the outside of my pussy, rubbing my clit.

What followed was one of the best orgasms of my life. I had been fingered before, and I’ve been fingered since, but no one was able to rub me in the way he did. The vigor he used on me was intense, powerful, and overwhelming. Very quickly, my moans became amazingly loud. “Talk to me,” he commanded, but all I could respond was, “Oh, Master!” mixed in with moans that were rapidly moving toward screams. There was so much pleasure I didn’t know what to do. Never had I felt this kind of orgasm before. “Don’t you dare cum without my permission,” he warned as my moans began intensifying. Soon, I was there, hovering at the brink, ready to explode. “Master, I need to cum!” I screamed. “No!” he growled back into my ear as he continued banging me with his fingers. “But Master,” I begged, “Please let me cum!” “NO!” came the reply once again. Finally, in desperation, I implored, “Master, I need to cum now, please, let me!” Then I heard the words I fervently needed to hear, “Ok, Little One. Cum for me now. But tell me when you are cumming.” And with that, an orgasm exploded throughout my body. “I’M CUMMING!” I screamed at the top of my lungs. Who was this woman who was in my bed screaming like this? Why had I never met her before?

Where that orgasm began and where it ended remains a mystery to me. There were peaks and higher peaks, but the plateaus and valleys never arrived. I could feel my pussy squirting, hot juices running down my lover’s hands and my nether lips, and I could hear myself surreally screaming at the intensity of what I was experiencing. On and on it went, never seeming to end. Finally, with exhaustion, I pled, “Master, mercy, please. I need a break. Please give me a break.” With that, he ceased rubbing, and collapsed next to me with an unbelievable look of pleasure on his own face.

I rolled over and cuddled into his arms, unable to speak from exhaustion and overwhelm. After a few minutes, when I finally found my voice again, I asked him, “What just happened?” He grinned and said, “You are an incredibly orgasmic woman.” I laughed in response and said, “Yes, but no one else has ever made me cum like that before.” He smiled and said, “I’ve never seen a woman cum like that before, so it must be you.” “Maybe it’s us,” I suggested. Whatever it was, the energy flowing between us was powerful. We weren’t ready to stop either.

My lover looked at me, and then he reached over to the nightstand for the condom. “Put it on me,” he said. “Yes, Master,” I willingly replied. I was more than happy to comply with this request knowing full well what it meant: more pleasure for both of us via penetration. I rolled the condom down, struggling a bit to get it situated just right. He took over for me, making it comfortable, and then he pushed me down onto the bed with a passionate kiss to my lips. He moved to kneel between my legs while remaining upright, and he stuck his arms out toward me. I looked at him with confusion, and he said, “I want you to put your legs over my arms so I can fuck you in a way you’ve never been fucked before. I’m going give you a cervical orgasm, and you are going to love it.”

He was completely right. He began thrusting, pounding against me with intensity and determination. Very quickly, I was back to the brink of orgasm. “Master,” I cried, “I need to cum again.” “No,” he replied, “Not yet.” “But Master…” I begged. “I said NOT YET,” was his loud response. I focused on all the pleasure I was feeling, all the building desire, all the desperation for release. “Master, please, I need to cum so badly.” “Then cum, my Little One. Squirt all over me again.” With his permission, I felt my fluids release, and I heard myself screaming again. But then the screaming didn’t stop. It just kept going. My entire body was filled with intense, blinding pleasure, and I felt as though I had entered a totally different world. The orgasm just kept going and going as did the screaming. Wave after intense wave, thrust after pounding thrust. Somewhere in there, I felt myself squirt again. Finally, I reached the point where I just couldn’t keep going any longer. Once again I found myself begging, “Mercy, Master! I need a break from the pleasure.” And with that, my lover collapsed onto me, breathless and more turned on than he had ever been.

After we’d both had a chance to recover once again, we found ourselves looking into each other’s eyes, my fingers caressing his chest hair in a dreamy way. “You have ten minute orgasms,” he noted. I burst into laughter. “I don’t think they’re actually ten minutes long,” I said. He ran his hands through my hair and replied, “No, probably not. But they are incredibly long and absolutely amazing to partake in.”

A few more minutes of pillow talk passed, and I told him, “You still haven’t cum yet.” He replied, “Even if I don’t cum tonight, I will be completely happy. The amount of pleasure your orgasms have given me is more than you can know.” “I’m glad that’s true,” I said, “But I’d still like to get you to cum.” “Oh, so would I,” he responded, and with that, he flipped me over onto my stomach once again. He grabbed the lube with one hand while reinvigorating his erection with his other hand. He popped open the top, and squirted some of the very cold lube onto my asshole as well as onto his now hardened cock. This time, I knew what was about to happen.

I reached my fingers underneath me, putting them on my clit, ready to help my lover bring me to further pleasure. I felt his cock, slowly sliding into my ass as he exhaled a huge breath and moaned. “Dear God, that feels unbelievable,” he blurted out. I felt his body lowering against me, and then, when he was ready, slowly beginning to thrust in and out of me. Intense pleasure began arising in me that matched his. I applied counterpressure on my clit, stirring me to the edge of orgasm once again. It didn’t take him long either. The hours of sex we had been having had done their job in getting him to a point of no return. As he forcefully came in my ass, I lost control again, too, joining him in one final (albeit minor) orgasm for the evening. He collapsed on me, exhausted and pleasured.

After we took a few moments, he shifted off of me, and we found ourselves cuddling for the last time that night. “Wow” was all I could say to him. A huge grin crossed his face, too. “Yeah, that was pretty impressive,” he responded. “And that was our first time,” I noted. “Imagine what things are going to be like with more practice.” “I can’t wait to find out,” my lover replied, pulling me close in his arms and closing his eyes.

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