Doing a long distance relationship can feel really tiring, but once you are reunited, it feels surreal. There is a giddy rush of excitement on the 'first date', and fretting over what to wear, from the hair (up, down or half-up-half-down) to underwear and lip balm. And smelling nice without wearing heavy perfume.
But the most thrilling part after seeing each other again is noticing his desire and arousal, and how I acted shyly and was genuinely holding back, while he was caressing every inch of my thighs while I was driving! After a romantic first date with a Garden of Eden with lighted flowers, animals and hedge sculptures, we roamed around the expensive showroom like a newlywed couple. We checked out bedrooms, closets, bathroom ceilings and balconies, all the whilst while he was trying hard to keep his hands to himself, and I was feeling very feminine and sexy with a little pink anklet. I pictured wearing that while we were doing it in missionary.
However, the highlight was when we checked into the 5-star Dorset, with jazz music playing and welcoming. We didn't linger. I had been extra cautious, I made sure not to overeat at dinner (Naughty Nuri) and made sure we bought protection. The first thing was always about appreciating the bed and the bathroom, both which I did immediately, and then lazing in bed, intending to read. While I was on my first page, he had the hot shower running and had stripped off all his clothes, except the boxers. He implored me to join in but all I wanted was to snooze. I reminded myself that he had been good and patient, waiting for the main course to be served. Smiling, I had requested him to come and undress me.
The praises he murmured while each strip of my clothing came off was enough to make me blush and raise my ego. "These nipples", he sighed, running his hands over my buds and softness, my nakedness. He was pleasantly surprised by my decision to wear a g-string, and wanted to know if I did it just for him. I nodded an affirmative. I led the way into the bathroom after he had peeled off the final article. I walked confidently, knowing that he had a full view of my exposed back.
We caressed each other lovingly, kissing under the streams of the hot shower, There wasn't much steam which I usually liked in hot showers, but I didn't mind. I knew I had his whole attention. It wasn't long before he reached for the bar of soap. This one didn't lather well, but it was soap all the same. It glided smoothly on my skin, on which he ran his fingers over, smoothly rubbing the soap over my most private parts, freshly shaped to please aesthetically. We kissed longer, deeper, with the sensation of the water flowing overpowering the sensation on my lips. He was under the shower directly, and I leaned in on my toes to wrap both my hands and rested it on his neck, leaning in a comforting hug. He stroked my back and butt, and then without warning, slapped my butt, hard. It wasn't painful, but I was surpised, I let out a soft keen and hugged him tighter.
He didn't look at me or check for my reaction, but I knew that he could feel my every movement and breath and we were pressed together, our bodies meeting front-to-front. He smacked harder, again and again, and I begin to feel the pain in earnest. It stung so much, I began to gasp in pain and in between my soft keens, I crushed his body tighter against mine and started kissing his neck fervently. Instead of slowing him down, it only encouraged him further, and drove his frenzy wilder. He hit really hard now, bringing his palm and entire hand and landing it soundly across all the fleshly parts of my bum. His hand also landed in the middle of my cheeks and close to the rear entry, and I let out a louder keen as I struggled to calmly absorb the pain.
Distracted by the pain, I didn't notice that my hands had been laying limply by my sides, and no longer gripping him in the embrace. He paused only to firmly take my hand in his, and place it back to his shoulder near his neck. My mouth was just next to his ear, my chin was over his shoulder, and although my keens are subdued, I was pretty sure it was amplified as we were within a whisker apart. The smacks continued, hard, fast and unforgiving. I had no choice. I was already standing on my tiptoes the entire time and arching my body slightly. As the palm landed, I jumped up and down to relief my bottom, squirming away from the impact. My little jumps only provided minor relief, as my butt was too wide an area to avoid any smacks from jostling. My left hand came down to rub my sore left ass cheek and I continue making little jumps.
He paid no heed to all of it. With my left hand rubbing and in the way, he went at a relentless pace on my right butt, smacking harder and intensifying it until I was increasing my cries in volume. The smacks went harder and faster that I couldn't stop crying out in pain, whimpering in pain with sharp intakes of breath when each smack took effect. It hurt a lot and I had to wonder if his mad streak will stop. I enjoyed being helpless and the position was very intimate, we were embracing the whole time, and everytime I felt pain, I would only hug him tighter and closer.
He returned to normal again and asked me to stand under the shower instead, swapping places. We had already stood in the shower so long, I didn't feel the point of continuing to stand there too long. After a few more glides of soap and rinsing, I readied the towel and stepped out.
I collapsed face down onto the soft hotel bed and with an imploring look, I rubbed my bum, to make sure he understood that it hurt, yet I enjoyed the experience (not the pain). He pulled the towel down just enough to reveal my burning red cheeks and planted firm kisses everywhere. We turned down the lights and cuddled afterwards. It was the first time I got a serious spanking without ever initiating it. It was only when I reached home under proper lighting that I saw the bruises. Then I Googled wet spanking, and apparently, there were one of the most painful forms of spanking administered. Thinking back, I did admit it was very painful and almost hard to tolerate towards the end, but once the moment passes, I cannot feel anything. The bruises didn't hurt to touch, but they were not pretty at all to look at.
Everytime I look at it, I will still be in disbelief that either that much force had been applied, or that I can bruise easily under a more painful spanking. The dark-red, almost brown scars look similiar to my stretch marks, except that they are filled in with colour, and appear a lot more blotchy and widespread across the meaty sides of my bum. It had only begun to show signs of healing after the third day. For two days straight, just thinking about the sounds I made while being spanked, and his lovingly firm but bossy attitude while spanking me under his mercy got me off. My mind turned to it whenever I had a quiet spare moment. This is the case when action speaks so loud for itself, it rang. "You must really miss me huh. You never spank me so hard before," I said shyly while we were snuggling like kitttens. To which he replied, "Oh I could turn your ass blue black".
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