Anal Sex

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.

©2016 WoodLeatherLace.com