Fantasy Friday, A True Story

Christmas is behind us and New Years is but hours away. I hope everyone is enjoying their holidays. I am savoring every moment of mine! I have been enjoying my kindle no end and there are even a few stories rattling around in my head waiting to be fed into the keyboard. Life is good.

I love every Fantasy Friday I’ve ever had the privilege of posting. But this one, this one is very special to me. For one thing it came from my friend Annie, who you all know is a fantastic writer. It’s not your normal Fantasy Friday, but I have a feeling that so very many of us will relate. This story is Annie, it’s me, and I have a feeling that it is so very many of us. And if it’s not us then it truly is our fantasy.

Everyone please enjoy…

A TRUE STORY

We all love those great stories where a bratty woman is tamed by her large, naturally dominant man. It is spanking fantasy at it's best. It also bears no resemblance to my life, or those of my friends who are "like" me. There are any number of men who have been convinced to do this by women like me. I have yet to hear of, much less meet, a converted vanilla spankee. So, without the normal pouting, eye batting, you can't do this to me fanfare here is a quick peek into my life. My real life.

After three days out of town I was happy to get home. Back to my pillow, my bed, my shower, my husband. Being middle aged makes me more appreciative of the routine, the comfort of my things, the luxury of living in a reasonably affluent, middle class, childfree American home. My days of spur of the moment trips, sleeping on floors and all night drives are over. Even flying takes it's toll on me now. I have reached that stage I used to snidely term "rigid" when it was my mother's turn. So, just back from visiting the grandbaby, feeling old and tired and, dammit, grandmotherly, I was not in the best of moods.

Most of you are middle aged, too, so you know what I mean when I say your children do not see you as a sexual being. Just because things are starting to sag does not mean we are beyond chasing each other naked through the house. Hell, we are both getting saggy, no reason to hide it. There is something about visiting my family, the veneer of respectability. The fact that we are still having a wildly erotic sex life never occurs to them. That tends to make me even grumpier.

I finally get my luggage, struggle to the drive up area, and there he is. He has driven the old car so I can smoke, has a dozen yellow roses in his hand, and my favorite chocolates on the dash. I know all of these, except maybe the flowers, are bad for me, and I do not care. He kisses me passionately, whisks me off to a quiet dinner in a restaurant that serves alcohol, listens to my baby tales over cocktails, and gives me the update on his week while we eat. My outlook has improved dramatically by the time the meal is over.

He carries my suitcase in, suggests I leave the unpacking for later and go grab a nice hot shower to unwind. Seems like excellent advice. My own shower, set the way I like it, my shower massage, my water filter, my water bill. After long minutes standing under the spray, easing the kinks out of my neck, I feel a sudden draft. He decided he missed me too much to wait any longer. How sweet. He washes my back, then, with noticeably more enthusiasm, washes my front.

This is all very nice, and I have missed him as well, but then he surprises me. While I am rinsing off he lands a good one on my wet ass with a plastic pancake turner he has snuck into the shower. Sliding an arm around my waist he peppers me with sharp cracks, all the while telling me that I am not ever to go off and leave him again. This thing is plastic but it packs a pretty good wallop, and the sting lingers on wet skin. What a rush. I know he has missed me, and he wants to get lucky every bit as much as I do, but this is all for me. He will try anything I can think of, but spanking is an acquired habit for him. He gets off on my reaction, but is not a natural spanko. For him to work so hard to please me is always a thrill, but this is above and beyond the call of duty.

When he finally releases me I am ready to be ravished, right there in the shower. Not the best of places for a woman my age, but this was urgent. He turned me down! Said I was going much too fast and he wasn't going to give me what I wanted until he was certain I had received all of the punishment I deserved. I almost came right then and there.

He turned the rest of the evening into a total production. It was fabulous and sexy. Just the right balance between pain and pleasure. And it was all for me. I loved every minute of it. I adore him for thinking of it. I swear I will remember this when he leaves his socks under the bed, the milk on the counter and the toilet seat up.

I do not know if we improve with age, take more time, are more considerate, or if he and I are just lucky, but it keeps getting better with each passing year. I do know that part of it is his willingness to grow, change, try new things, play new games. I am a very lucky woman.

So, no pouting, no pretending I don't like it, just an ordinary day in an ordinary life with an exceptional man.

~o0o~

I feel that many will have a comment about this – you may not post them here but I think many of my silent readers may well see themselves in this story.

I hope everyone has a great New Year’s celebration. I think a good resolution for everyone reading here is to try to write one fantasy story this year. Even if you have no intentions of sharing it with anyone, write it for yourself. And if you should want to share with us send it to elisspeaks@yahoo.com