There was no doubt I was feeling rather peckish since there had been no attention paid to my lily-white ass in a good long while. However, I didn't really do anything about it because I had worked 9 hours or more every day that week. I just didn't have the energy. Sam was watching Episode #377 of the hit series, "Some Dumb Cop Show or Another." I was even too tired to "flounce" out of the room. Just grabbed my Kindle and headed off to bed.
After getting all my pillows arranged just so to read in bed, I realized how cold it was. The house was still closed up and Sam had the AC running like our house was situated on the equator. I tried to get started on my book, but soon had to pull up the sheet. In a few more minutes I pulled up the summer cotton blanket. Surely that would do the trick. Nope - I was still cold.
I should explain that where we live, the daytime temperatures may be scorching, but it cools down quickly once the sun sets. On my way back to the front of the house, I checked the thermostat. No wonder I was cold! It was set so low you could have kept popsicles in the dresser drawer! I tried to keep my voice sweet and patient as I said, "Sam, can we turn off the cooler now? I'm really cold."
He paused his show and walked over to check the little digital thermometer that displays both the indoor and outdoor temperatures. It was still showing 80 degrees outside. "I don't think that thing is working correctly, Sam." He just sighed and opened the front door. The light was fading fast as he stepped outside. I followed him out and put my hands out with my palms up. "See, Hon? It's just fine out here. Now can we turn off the cooler?"
"It's still warm. Let's give it another half hour," Sam answered and walked back in the house.
"Sam," I whined. "It's freezing in there."
"Put on your robe," he countered.
Feeling very frustrated, I followed. I made an impatient noise, but he had pressed the "Play" button, and any sound I made was drowned out by the guns blasting as the audio came back on.
I would like to take you on a little walk down Memory Lane right here. If you were following my blog last fall, you might recall a disagreement between Sam and me that led to a post called "Turning Up the Heat." The nights were getting colder and the days growing shorter. I was very cold and very grumpy. After one complaint too many, Sam decided to help Ella warm up - just not with the thermostat. So, remembering this incident, I thought, "It's 7 months later.....the middle of summer.....and I'm still cold, dammit!" Sam maintains that I only have a 4 degree comfort zone; otherwise, I'm either too hot or too cold.
I gave up. Grabbing my old garden sweatshirt off the peg, I headed back down the hall to bed. Finally I felt cozy, and I snuggled in to read. Not 5 minutes later, Sam came in our bedroom to say goodnight. He was smiling now and so was I. Sweet, slow kisses. On weeknights he usually comes to bed later and will pull me over
to spoon. He gave me one more kiss and turned to open the window, letting in the summer night and the sound of crickets chirping. I cocked my head and smiled again. "I think you left the cooler on just because you could," I teased. I was referring to Sam's confidence as HOH these days. Looking back 3 years, I think he has changed every bit as much as I have.
He turned around and grinned. "Maybe so. Just like to remind you who's in charge." This parrying back and forth always makes me laugh, and I started to giggle.
"Oh, really?" I said with a smile.
And with that, Sam pulled me up from my comfy spot and forwards so that I was up on all fours and then over the footboard of our
antique bed. Up went the nightgown and down went the panties. He started to spank right on my sit spots with his hand, and I alternated between saying "Ow!" and hysterical laughter. The more I laughed, the harder he spanked. If this was a battle of wills, I can only tell you how much fun it was to lose.
"The window, Sam!" He laughed, too, and turned to slide it closed again, hardly missing a stroke. Oh my, I was enjoying this and felt thoroughly warmed up.
"Come here, you," Sam said and pulled me off the footboard. More kisses and he got me all tucked in again on a well-tended bottom. I could not stop smiling.
"Not too late," he reminded me. "You've been tired this week." He knows I will read until my head starts nodding and then regret it the next morning when the alarm goes off.
Well, another milestone in this journey called ttwd. Never had a spanking at bedtime before. I have heard many of you tout the benefits of such attention from the man you love. And now I know how absolutely special a bedtime spanking is! How serene and happy and loved I felt as I lay there smiling in the dark.
And smiling.
And smiling.
Zzzzzzzzz.
Sweet Dreams, Ella.
In the land of Ever After, there are many
little chapters in Ella's Book of Life and Love. Some are funny, some are
friendly, and some do sting quite a bit. Some are happy, sad, or pissed
off. Lots of chapters include a spanking, and that is usually a good
thing even if it does not seem that way at the time. Today's little story
has all the ingredients for a delicious post.
And I could not help but
notice the alliteration!
Sunday
Sam
Suspenders
Spanking
Sex
I do so love long, leisurely Sunday
mornings. I cannot sleep late myself, but Sam enjoys no alarm clock on
the weekends. Saturdays are usually full of errands and shopping since we
both work full time, but Sundays we take more of a "Whatever and
Whenever" approach. No rushing around. Lots of coffee.
Reading, news, long distance calls and emails to far flung family and
friends. And I just love sex on a Sunday morning. Sam is always
willing, and I like to take the time to wear something special for him.
He is not choosy. Almost any lingerie is fine. After all, as
Meredith always says, it's just going to end up on the floor anyway.
When Sam does something special for me, I
think it is usually in the creative implement department. Digging to the
back of the "toy box" (really his old sweater drawer) for something
that makes my eyes light up and also suddenly makes me feel a little hesitant,
too. You know the feeling - the good "butterflies in your
stomach" feeling. So I was not at all prepared for his surprise last
Sunday. As I rounded the corner wearing a very pretty little black floaty
chemise, I stopped dead in my tracks for Sam was just sitting there in a dress
shirt and suit pants and (wait for it) SUSPENDERS. And he was smiling
because he knew what that does to me.
"Oh, be still my beating heart."
Somewhere in a past post, I am sure I have at
least mentioned that I have a "thing" for men in suspenders.
Don't know why, but I just think they are as sexy as hell. Of course, my
favorite guy in suspenders would be Sam, but nothing can make me check out
another man as quickly as seeing just a glimpse of suspenders under a man's
suit coat. And heaven help me if he takes off his jacket!
On several trips to London, Sam was working
in the financial district or "The City," as it is referred to.
Every time he dressed for business and wore "braces" (as they are
called by the Brits), I simply wanted to jump his bones. If we were
running late, Sam would just laugh at me. Well, there are hundreds and
hundreds of businessmen in the City who wear braces. I was in a constant
state of heat. Sam would raise his eyebrows and subtly nod at some man
passing us and then just laugh his ass off at my reaction.
I'm not choosy either. Sure, it is nice
if the man in suspenders is good-looking, too, but I have no shame with this
particular fetish. Can easily stand behind some unassuming plumber in the
check out line at the grocery store, and suspenders will have the same effect
on me.
Heavy-set farmer-type guys
loading pick-up trucks with sacks of
feed.
Yep.
The entire male wedding party at a church.
Yep, Yep, and Yep.
So Sam is sitting there looking mighty
pretty, and I am grinning from ear to ear. And this is shaping up to be a
might lovely Sunday. Let's see, so far we have Sunday, Sam, and Suspenders. I think I know what comes next. As he
led me into the bedroom, I snapped the back of his braces and giggled. He
didn't and sat me down on the edge of the bed. I expected him to rummage
around in the toy box, but this was to be "au naturel." In a
hot minute I was over the bed, my lingerie was flipped up, and there was a
meeting of the hand to bottom. He didn't say much; he didn't need
to. His hand was doing the talking and some exploring, too. I
thought I wanted this to go on forever, but I was soon begging for the last
"S" word in this alliteration.
 |
| Fan-fucking-tastic |
Sam made me wait a bit, just because he
could, but as soon as I was permitted up, I was on him like flies on
honey. Those suspenders went down, along with anything else in my
way. "Oh, my stars!" is all I can tell you , Ladies. That
was one hell of an alliteration.
S.s.s.s.s.....superb and fan-fucking-tastic.
Not to be outdone, I made damn sure Sam had
an exceptional alliteration, too. We lay there a bit, exhausted I
think. I love to lay in the crook of his arm with my head tucked up under
his chin. I love his smell and the roughness of his beard. I love
his weight on me and the muscles in his arms. I love his hands stroking
my hair. I even love when he says it's time to get up and pats my
ass. I love to make him happy.
So that was my Sunday. We covered all
those "S" words, I think.
I would like to add just a few more.
Special
Spectacular
Stupendous
Seeing Stars
And perhaps a platitude................
Good things cum to he who wears suspenders.
At least at Sam and Ella's house.
I should explain that where we live, the daytime temperatures may be scorching, but it cools down quickly once the sun sets. On my way back to the front of the house, I checked the thermostat. No wonder I was cold! It was set so low you could have kept popsicles in the dresser drawer! I tried to keep my voice sweet and patient as I said, "Sam, can we turn off the cooler now? I'm really cold."
