Fantasy Friday - If it's Friday, we must be home

Happy Friday everyone! I am so glad that the weekend has rolled around again. And I have another wonderful Fantasy Friday for you. I am always amazed and appreciative of the amount of writing talent so many of you are willing to share. I still need more, by the way. I just know that there are lurkers out there that really want to try writing a story and I really wish you would give it a try. Come on take the leap! Send you story to elisspeaks@yahoo.com

Today’s story is really fantastic and I have no doubt that you will agree with me on this. So here we go, the weekend has arrived and you have a great story to read, enjoy…

If It’s Friday, We Must Be Home

She pushed through the revolving doors into the lower lobby of the hotel. Her luggage, preceding her with the bellman, would be held at his station until requested. Probably delivered to their room deep into the night; He would call when He was ready for it to be delivered.

A brief stop at the desk and her key was in her hand. He had checked in earlier, leaving the key at the desk for her. Ensuring that she would not have to tarry with the clerks, they never asked for her id, never required a signature; He addressed all of those items before her arrival.

Stepping from the elevator she knew their room would be at the end of the hall, it always was; higher floor, end of the hall, few if any guests in their wing. Always the executive floor, always the one-bedroom suite; He was nothing if not consistent.

She entered the room quietly, dusk was falling across the city and the open drapes revealed the slate sky, twinkling office towers all around. He had lit candles, a gift to her, she loved candles. He would probably leave the drapes open as they were high enough in the sky to ensure privacy while the candles offered all the light they would need.

She could see Him clearly, sitting on the sofa, scotch in one hand, flowers resting on the seat next to Him, hot house exotics, this was a special day indeed. His tie was loosened, one button open, his only concession to comfort. He was still attired in his steel grey suit, fresh from His travels – well, as fresh as one can be after days of meetings and flying half way across the country. His eyes rested on her.

“Undress, shower, return to me”

Simple, direct, she knew He was tired – He would not waste energy on specious conversation this evening. No, He would expect His directives followed completely and quickly or there would be hell to pay. And why pay hell when He obviously would be treating her like a queen this weekend. She exited the room; quickly disrobing she did not worry about her missing toiletries in her bags downstairs. He liked the fancy soaps and lotions provided by this hotel. He would be pleased with the feel of her skin, the light scent that would drift from her. She did not need clothes – not until He decided and He would make sure they were available.

Returning to the room, warm, moist skin, softened by the water and body oil she knelt before Him, resting her head on His inner thigh awaiting His next request. Her impatient spirit wanted to complain as they stayed in that position for seemingly long minutes, but her submissive heart knew –He would not have them there longer than they needed to be and that soon she would wish she were back at His knees. He smoothed back her hair, running His fingers through the silkiness, she loved this quiet time with Him; just existing at His feet.

“Go to the wall at the foot of the bed, face it and present your self, wait for me”

And so it begins, silently she slid back standing, crossing the room. Folding her arms on the wall in front of her, she rested her forehead against her arms. Stepping back from the wall, close to two feet, she spread her legs hip width. Lowering her arms for the proper arch to her back, elevating her cheeks to Him; for His viewing pleasure, her smooth, roundness settled at the top of her thighs. Full, soft, pliable – regular work outs kept her pleasantly firm for His touch.
Listening closely, she knew He was still on the sofa watching her but soon, He would be there. For a brief moment, she worried about Him. Her trip had only been three days and now she was home. For Him, this was day nine of a cross-country blitz. He had not spent two nights in the same city and had made major presentations over and over again. Mentally, He should be toast. Yet here they were – a downtown suite preparing for a few days of play, a surprise gift for a job well down. She closed her deal, signed contracts rested in her brief case. She was a star and they were celebrating, so sweet – thoughtful.

He was moving now, she could hear Him and she smiled – all the energy He’d lost would come roaring back as He began attending to her. Second wind? This was no second wind, this was pure energy as if He’d never known fatigue in His life. Spanking her, paddling her, whipping her again and again with His strap; what should have been exhausting, invigorated Him. He drew power from His efforts, not lost it.

Slap!

Ummph! Sheesh, she wasn’t expecting it, His first strike. Slap! Slap! Slap! She’d gotten lost in her thoughts and lost track of Him. Whamp! No warm up, His hand was heavy against her, smoothing over the peaks of her arched backside, filling the palm of his hand with her flesh. Caressing, kneading, rubbing – He had missed her, the feel of her skin in his hands. Staccato slaps filled the room, sending fire bursting across her flesh. Wham! She craved Him, just like this, all over her body, starting the music that would play all night.

The thudding impact of his attention coursed through her! Over and over her being absorbed the pounding heat, spreading it throughout her body. Uhhh! Uhhh! Uhhh! Braced against the wall, she felt liquid warmth pooling in her folds, passion throbbing, pulsing driving her to ecstasy. Yes! “More baby, give me more!” she begged inside. Arching higher and higher into His palms – she urged Him on.

Slap! Arrrrgh! Slap! Slap! slow rubbing again, and then Slap! Slap! Slap! Slap! Gripping her soft tissue tightly he moved from cheek to cheek, squeezing and caressing her flesh, no, His flesh, while intermittently spanking her over and over.

Slap! Slap! Slap! His fingers grazed against her exposed valley; glistening in anticipation, she was embarrassed at the lustful display of her body. He smiled, knowing she ached for him. He’d been gone too long, denied her presence, her joy, her body. Now His passion flowed into her, stroking the arching flames of coursing between them. She craved the feel of His hands, the taste of His skin, the pounding of His cock and her body cried for Him. Wept it’s joy into his hand. Moving from peak to peak – patting, slapping, rubbing, He whisked past her pleading lips over and over, teasing her soaking opening, flicking at her, driving her to the cliffs—but not allowing her the soaring freedom she sought.

She was panting, arching her back up to meet His hands. Slap! Slap! Slap! Aaaahhhhh! Ummph! Ummph! Ummph! Slap! Slap! Slap! She struggled to swallow her cries, compressing her energies inside. The strikes were so hard, forceful – Just his Hand! Her flesh was throbbing, surely colored the red of passion, but she dare not reach back to touch. A definite no-no, she would quickly change His mood by breaking the rules.

Slap! Slap! Slap! Ahhhhh,,, mmpphhh, panting, breathe through the strikes, no yelling, no begging not yet anyway. Their ways, their loving ways, she elevated her mounds where He could caress and enjoy them. One sure way to ensure a spanking extended, drop her back and move from position, unacceptable. But she wasn’t being punished, that would come later, another time, another place. They had been apart for so long – this was her gift, to Him, to her; a reconnection. She would be punished, dealt with later; a few sharp words, some problems over the last few weeks that required resolution. So soon actually, but not right now – not like this. Returning from her travels this was her zone of comfort, under His hand, her refuge; she craved it.

He was there, finally, His body pressed against her. His shoulder on the wall, face on her elbow, His oversized hands continued to slap and caress her heated flesh. He’d removed his jacket, His oxford, t-shirt. She could feel desire rising off His body as He leaned into her, inviting her mouth to His and slapping her curves ever more forcefully. She felt His heart, heard His breath – pressing into her. Her longing robbed her of all thought; there was only Him, His being, His heat, His rhythm.

Slap! Slap! Slap! His eyes were alive, sparkling, fatigue gone. His muscular frame rippled with promise for the evening. She would have giggled with glee, except His hand was keeping a punishing tattoo on her raised bottom. Despite her best efforts she started to move, twist and turn under the punishing rhythm.

Wham! The force of the last blow knocked her out of position, swinging her hips toward the wall. Her eyes flickered from the pain and soft mewling noises, slipped from her lips. Slipping His arms around her hips He pulled her into His body.

“My girl is out of practice” he murmured.

Her eyes filling with tears, she sagged into Him. Hating to disappoint Him, she wanted Him to continue, to rebuild His strength and replenish their empty cups. She wasn’t ready for him to stop. Not yet, not now.

“No”

“No?” He looked down at her, startled by her response. No was not a word she was allowed to use with Him often. Only under the most dire circumstances and after much consideration could she say, ‘no’.

“I am sorry my Love, I meant don’t stop, don’t stop, please Darling, don’t stop”

“Did I ask you, ma petit” His breath drifted softly across her cheeks, deceptively so, she could felt the change in his demeanor. Her welcome home was just beginning – the dance of their reconnection would increase in intensity soon.

His hand drifted down her arm to clutch her hand, caressing her smooth, warm skin, goosebumps and tingles trailing in His wake, the throbbing ache in her core spreading throughout her being and she was dizzy from passion and longing. His strong arms encircled her as they embraced, gliding, dancing to the music of their hearts, the distant cacophony of the city beyond the room was a low undercurrent to the passion within. Pressed to His body, she absorbed His essence, her lips resting near the pulse in His throat, her hands smoothing across the muscles of His back. Their slow waltz carrying them through the suite, swaying in the twilight; moving against each other, their spirits entwined as one.

Arriving at the edge of the bed, He held her, breathing into her mouth, their world still. She felt his tongue caress the inside of her mouth. Suckling Him, now drawing him deeper and deeper still, into her mouth. His embrace softened and she drew away, feeling the caress of His gaze, she turned from Him; lowering herself across the bed, reaching across the down-filled comforter, securing herself in it’s plush folds.

Suppressing her swirling emotions, she willed her body to motionlessness. Her flesh now completely exposed to His eyes, His hands splayed across her supple dampness. Before the evening passed He would replenish His thirst at her core, swallowing the cream that would flow from her heated flesh. In the twilight she was His beautiful supplicant yet He worshipped her beauty. Reaching up, He grabbed her hair, turning her face to His, marveling at her flushed cheeks and welling eyes. Kissing the tears from her cheeks, He lowered the face of His beloved and stood to finish.

She almost missed the whisper of its release, His belt slipping from the constraints of His loops. Sobs, flowing from her chest, muffled the sound of His actions but she knew His next steps, having witnessed them a thousand times. He’d folded this tool of correction and caress in half, wrapping the buckle into His palm, settling the length perfectly for their continued dance.
Whamp! Whamp! Whamp! He starts slowly, almost softly, the stingy flashes of the strap racing through her loins. Flexing, her hands stretch out, gripping the bed as she writhes under His increasing tempo. She could ask for binding, He would gladly oblige, but she wanted to do this, to give Him her stillness, serve Him with quietness and submit from her heart.

Swap! Swap! Swap! He deepened his strokes, harder, harder still, lightening tore across her cheeks, stoking the burgeoning heat only He could extinguish. Spanking now with focused intensity and covering her cheeks with stingy sparkles; He nursed her sweet spots sending diamond bursts of heat spraying through her being.

Her body rocks under his efforts, feet dancing with fervor as His hand presses her down, steadying her flagging control. The swats fall in an unpredictable pattern, fifty, sixty strokes, she loses count, pressing her uncontrolled screams into the mattress.

Whamp! Whamp! Whamp! His arm deepens into this thrashing her flesh. Quaking and jiggling before Him, He watched His belt plunge into her mounds. Flattening them before His gaze, they ebb and flow under His continued attention. Slowly, methodically the belt works its way from the tops of her buttocks to the center of her thighs. Centered on her cleft, it captures both cheeks in its biting sting; Lowered to her thighs He wraps her limbs in the thick lick of supple leather.
Pulsating with passion, her body throbbed for relief. Whereas she had fought and thrashed on the bed seeking to escape his lashes; now she arched toward Him, presenting her cheeks for His intense ministrations, longing for his attention. Her buttocks cease clenching in protest; her bottom no longer desperate for escape instead seeking the kiss of His belt, the heated explosions of his strokes.

He watched her writhe in passion and pain. The beautiful redness full even in waning darkness; reflecting the candle flame. Their erotic desires fully unleashed; now flowed freely between them. Each now driving the other to seek the purest of sensual release; lost within the refuge of their love. His member throbbed with need as they raced towards passions pinnacle. His patience exhausted and overwhelmed with need He freed his manhood from His trousers. Springing forth from His clothing His shaft swelled in liberty. Stepping behind her, He flung His belt from His hand, freeing them to first manipulate her luscious bottom, drawing throaty moans and sighs. Heat rising from her tortured mounds seared His hands while raising her full hips she welcomed his staff. Her dripping folds kissed His rigid shaft as He sank His fullness into her enveloping warmth. Finally, He was Home.

~~~oo0oo~~~

Now that’s one hot story to start your weekend!! This wonderful story was another one by the Pretty DD Girl. Her first story was then Campaign Party and you can that story by clicking part one and part two here. DD Girl this was great and I really hope you will keep writing. Hopefully part two of this one will be coming soon. Thanks again.