This is another contribution from Jean Marie. To see more, click on ‘Links and Contributors’ in the menu above. You will find a link to her blog, and if you click on ‘Contributors’, more work like this.
This is from her blog…
The Gift of Cherry, Part I
By Jean Marie
If you follow the blog, spanking-emporium.co.uk (and I hope that you do, it’s wonderful!), you know that Asa Jones featured some stunningly beautiful photos of the model Cherry and a scenario recently. He wondered what I would do if presented with the gift of Cherry as a pleasure slave for several days. Wonder no more, dear Mr. Jones, here’s my reaction.
I just finished reading the post on Mr. Jones’ site when there was a knock on my door. I answered it to find an indescribable creature standing on my stoop.
“Hi, I’m Cherry!” she smiled. Her British accent made this sound eloquent.
I said “indescribable” but let me attempt to put into words what is so ephemeral that such incredible beauty beggars all description. Cherry has hypnotic eyes, I immediately fell under their spell. She picked up her small suitcase and stepped indoors. As she set the valise back down, she shrugged off her cloak, and she slipped out of her espadrilles. The tweed over-garment fell to the floor onto the shoe-tops, and Cherry stood before me as naked as the day she was born. Let me amend that, Cherry wore a slave collar around her neck with a red silk lead-leash attached (and bellybutton jewelry), but that was all. She might have been an adorable new-born baby, but she was even more beguiling now in her twenties. Everything about her was feminine, like the ancient fertility dolls that archeologists have discovered, Cherry was roundness incarnate. Luminous round eyes looked up at me, then were lowered submissively to the floor. The most magnificent, the most bounteous breasts rose and fell with her breath. Ripe, erect, red nipples crowned each fleshy mound. Her figure tapered down to a slimmer waist. Even this part of her anatomy proclaimed fertility, she had a rounded belly indented by an innie-navel. Her hips swelled out, child-birthing, womanly hips. She had a shaved pudendum, bared to the human eye and those of the gods, so that all could worship at this altar of sexuality. The same satin-smooth skin upholstered her thick thighs and shapely legs. The great writer, Tom Robbins, described a lovely protagonist in one of his novels, Jitterbug Perfume, as having “porpoise thighs” resembling the smooth soft firmness of both mammals, dolphin and damsel. Cherry had just such porpoise-like rounded resplendence. I looked her up and down, then saw a small smile play at the corners of her lips. I realized that I was being rude by my silence.
“I’m sorry,” I stumbled, trying to overcome being dumbstruck, “I didn’t mean to be rude, welcome! …You probably know that I’m Jeanie… I have never been given such a lavish gift, you are… stunning…!”
“I’m so glad you like it… er, me…” she said, handing me the end of that red leash.
“Let me ask you something,” I muttered, trying to focus my reeling mind, “have you been ‘with’ other women before…?”
“Yes,” she smiled as openly as everything about her was, naked, right out there.
“Well, I haven’t been… I’ve fantasized about it, but never in reality… and you’re so beautiful… it’s intimidating… but I want this, come here!” I led Cherry by the leash into the room, sat on a straight-backed chair and draped her pulchritude perfection over my lap. I was now confronted with a wonderous, round rump. I was powerless not to caress her sumptuous curves with both hands, appreciating their firmness, smoothness, heft. I parted her orbs, glimpsed her humid valley and a tiny rosebud, contrasting erotically with her large buttocks. I began spanking her.
“Have I done something to displease you, Mistress?” she said to the floor before her.
“No, no! You have pleased me immensely! This is the most… exciting thing…! This is how I can best deal with such… “
I spanked her bottom with purpose, briskly and hard. The pale peaches-and-cream complexion pinkened, warmed under my palm. I didn’t try to speak, just concentrated on the task at hand, bathing in the luxury of concentrating on such a perfect ass. I would’ve loved to have continued for hours, but she was already magenta and hot to the touch after just precious moments of abuse, and she hadn’t done anything to deserve it, just been too gorgeous.
“If I spanked you more… would you climax, just from that?” I breathed heavily, rubbing her enflamed flesh because it was so sensual to do so.
“I’d like it, but not enough to orgasm. I’d need to be fingered simultaneously…” she replied, turned her head to look up at me as she did. I was the one to blush under the scrutiny of such beauty, even though she was the one over my knee and with her head lower than the rest of her torso. Did Cherry notice this? Did she realize that I was so impressed, to the point of tongue-tied, with her countenance?
I had a flashback to when I was sensually leathered by a Top years ago. He ordered me to scissor my thighs together as he strapped me, and much to the surprise of both of us, I came spontaneously, spasming hard. I wished that Cherry was more like me, because this was what I was confident doing, everything else would be uncharted territory. Then I got an idea to shift the whole power-dynamic paradigm. I’d be the only one that mattered to survey the territory before us. I punctuated my lecture with the percussion of periodic spanks.
“In his blog post to me about you,” SMACK! “Mr. Jones said that you are to be my pleasure slave.” SMACK! “My pleasure, Cherry, not yours.” SMACK! “For the next several days, we’re going to do things that’ll get me off.” SMACK! “You are to try your best not to orgasm. If you do, without my permission,” SMACK! “you will be punished all the harder.” SMACK! “Is that clear?” SMACK!
“Yes, Mistress.”
Keeping Cherry balanced on my lap, I scooched my bum to the edge of the chair I sat upon. I unbuckled the belt around my waist, took it off, and doubled it in my hand.
“Reach underneath us, Cherry,” I instructed, “Finger my pussy while I leather your bottom with this belt. Your strapping will be finished after I’ve climaxed for the second time. Do you understand?” Cherry nodded her head, and I felt her fingers diddle their way into my pussy. “Are you trying to take a head-start?” I asked pointedly, while at the same time giving her lovely bottom a sharp lick with the belt.
“I was just…” she started to offer by way of excuse, “you said your second climax, that might take a while…”
In his post, Mr. Jones had detailed Cherry’s turn-ons. Cherry didn’t know, but I knew that she loved having a woman strap her bottom, among other things.
“It won’t take me too long, as long as you stay focused. But if you cum, I’ll cane you for it. You don’t want your bottom caned this early in our time together, or it’ll make the next few days seem a lot longer…”
“Yes, Mistress,” she responded with just the right note of submission in her voice. Her fingers were delicately poised on my pussy lips. I brought the belt down hard across the summit of those spectacular orbs. We were off and running.
“That’s a good girl… circle my clit just like that… you’re very good at this…” I haltingly affirmed, all the while lashing her backside with the belt. I groaned loudly, signaling that she was half-way to the finish line. I redoubled my efforts with the doubled-up belt. Cherry really was good at it; I climaxed again very quickly after the first one. It rocked my world, I leaned back in the chair, opened my legs wide, and just rode-out the rollercoaster ride Cherry’s digits had treated me to. When I was back from the heavenly amusement joy-ride, I sat up and parted Cherry’s thighs.
“You’re wet, but it doesn’t look like you’ve cum…” I assessed.
“It was arousing hearing you moan, feeling you jerk about…” she explained as Cherry dismounted and knelt before me.
“I need a bath… I’d like to take one with you…” I said, picking up her leash. She crawled submissively, heeling like a well-trained bitch right beside me as I went around the apartment to collect things I wanted in the tub with us. Those hypnotic eyes grew big when I picked out a rubber riding crop from the umbrella stand, along with Epson salts and another set of towels from the hall closet. I untied the silk lead from the ring so the material wouldn’t get wet.
We got into the big tub at opposite ends. It pleased me to see Cherry sit on one hip, and then the other, unable to sit fully flush on her freshly leathered bottom. Shifting around so much, her big breasts bobbled about at the surface of the water.
“I think the word ‘amazing’ is overused by people today. That said, you have amazing tits! They’re like cannonballs…” Cherry smiled at the sincerity of my compliment. “Mine are just little cupcakes, by comparison hardly…”
“Honestly, they get in the way sometimes! What’s that saying? If it’s more than you can fit in your hands and your mouth at the same time, it’s a waste…”
“Are those pretty nipples sensitive?”
“Yes…” Cherry said guardedly.
“Hold them up, above the water line…” I said, taking the riding crop in hand.
Cherry obeyed, lifting each breast from below, but closed her eyes and turned her face away. I brushed the slapper of the crop against her hardening nipple. Suddenly, without warning, I smacked the tip of the orb with the tip of the crop. Because it was wet, the spank hurt all the more. Then I turned my attention to her other tit, brushing it up and down, tap, tap, tap, then swat! Back and forth between her titty toppers, concentrating just on those two spots. The nipples grew dark red and so long and hard. Being ambidextrous, I reached out and found her pussy under the silken water, fingered her to test her waters.
“You better not cum, Cherry!” I admonished, frigging her pussy as I gave each nip another swat.
“Yes, Mistress, I know, Mistress!” Cherry returned with desperation clearly evident in her voice.
“If you do… I’ll wear your wet rump out with this… I’ll make you pull your cheeks apart and spank your rosebud…”
“I’m being good, Mistress!” Cherry tremulously pleaded.
“I’m going to let you in on a little secret,” I intimated, planting my feet on the tub floor and arching my body up to bridge above the water. “I like my rosebud tickled when I masturbate. Now, I’m going to play back here and I want you to play with my pussy. Licking it might be even better than fingering…”
Cherry decided to use both, got right to work lapping at my clit while fingering the slit. I inserted my middle finger up my tooter, in essence saying ‘fuck you’ to my butt hole and doing so all at the same time. I came. When my eyes could again focus, I pulled Cherry close and kissed her passionately.
When our lips parted long minutes later, I whispered, “I’m loving every bit of our time together, but am I being too hard on you? Tell me the truth.”
“It’s absolute torture and I wouldn’t change a bit of it. It’s heavenly torture! Give me more…”
I kissed her again, and fingered her demandingly as I did. I brought Cherry to the brink of release. She pushed back away from me violently, gasping for breath. As soon as she recovered herself, her mouth was again plastered against mine. This game would never get old, we played at it a while. I could see her nearing a pinnacle, so Cherry interrupted the tryst, “May I shampoo your hair?”
“That sounds like it could be nice…”
It was so much more than nice, it was delicious pampering. She did as the bottle instructed and lathered my head-up twice, a luxury I never treat myself to, but was decadent in how pleasing it all felt.
“May I make a suggestion, Mistress?” I raised an eye brow by way of reply.
“May I trim your pubic bush? Do you want to be clean-shaven like me?”
“On you it looks sexy, but it’s not my style. I could use a trim, though…”
Cherry shaved my labia, shaped my triangle and trimmed it nicely. We dried each other’s hair with the blower. I retied the red ribbon to her collar and led her to the bedroom. I watched her pendulous breasts sway, watched her buttocks undulate as she crawled along beside me. We ordered food to be delivered for dinner. Cherry answered the door when it came, looking virginal, dressed in her floor-length linen nightgown, with the collar and leash tucked-away out of sight.
“That delivery boy wanted you,” I commented when Cherry brought the food in.
“I didn’t notice,” she demurred, her eyes again lowered to the floor.
“Notice. Youth goes by too quickly. Enjoy it while it’s there!”
“You talk as if you were ancient. You are still a lovely woman yourself…”
“The fact that you have to say that says volumes,” I countered.
After we ate, Cherry did all the cleaning-up while I sat and supervised and talked. I led her back to my bedroom, opening the drawer in the bedside table, where I keep all my sex toys.
“Choose the one you want to experience. I’m going to grant you one orgasm before bed. Otherwise, I’m afraid you might spontaneously combust!” We both laughed. While she scrutinized each one, I continued, “Those are all from the Stockroom, my favorite retailer. You’ll notice I don’t own a strap-on. We don’t have time to get one by mail-order from them. So tomorrow we’ll drive to the local Hustler Store. I want to share that with you…”
“Sounds like a plan,” Cherry smiled, then selected a rabbit, a two-headed vibrator that would titillate both her private orifices. I got out a condom, opened the foil and stretched it over the vibe for safety-sake. Cherry laid back on the bed, hiked her gown up above her waist, cocked her legs in the air, and got busy. Both heads look like a soft-serve ice cream cone, being a conical twist to a pointy apex. The bigger one disappeared into Cherry’s pussy as the smaller one touched her anus.
“Are you anal-erotic?”
“Very!” Cherry gasped.
“Good to know,” I answered, and studied her technique closely. “Your ass looks gorgeous!” I complimented.
“It feels gorgeous, still tingly, still sore…”
“Remember that you only get one, make it count…”
“Yes, Mistress… it’s coming…”
To make it a good one, I sat next to her, leaned down and seized her breasts in my hands. I sucked and nibbled on the titties I’d tortured. That was enough to push Cherry over the edge. She groaned and ground the vibe all the deeper into her crotch, muscles flexing, face scrunching, toes curling. I’d latched-on to a nipple and wouldn’t let go. From the outside, it looked like a really satisfying one. I waited until she could again listen and speak before inquiring.
“Good?”
“So good!” she replied. “It was all so pent-up, it was a dam-burster!”
We fell asleep in each other’s arms and awoke nine full hours in the same position, with bed-clothes imprints on our faces and bodies. After some kissing, Cherry disappeared, I assumed to go to the bathroom. But she returned with breakfast-in-bed for both of us.
“I could get used to this…” I sighed.
“I could get used to having a tasty pussy next to me in bed,” Cherry smiled, and gave me morning cunnilingus as I tried to chew a croissant. Her ministrations were more buttery delicious than the pastry. I had to put it down, claw at the sheets, moan and buck my way to another climax. and later, I drove us to the Hustler Store.
PART 2
Strap-On Shopping with Cherry, Part II
By Jean Marie
We made an impressive pair waltzing into the sex shop, both of us with bed-head and a dazed look in our eyes (like we’d just climaxed and were still groggy from it), smelling of pussy, Cherry with that crisp British accent, her silver collar now prominently on display and the red leash in my hand. She elected not to get down on all fours this time.
Cherry and I were confronted with a mind-boggling array of strap-on harnesses once inside the neon store. We decided we both liked the one named “Full Curves Harness” because it seemed the most secure, and because it let us choose the size of the phallus to match with it. (Of course, that made it the most expensive, not counting what dildo we chose to pair with it.)
There is a meme/video I saw recently. I want to state up-front that this is not my idea, I’m borrowing it. Some women are shopping for a strap-on, and one presciently observes, “I think it’s a Harry Potter situation. Just like the wand chooses the wizard in the book series, the strap-on chooses the recipient.” That’s exactly how we felt, standing in the Hustler Store. We looked over their manhood-resembling merchandise in this category, and waited for the right one to speak to us. At first, Cherry was attracted to a big, thick, veiny one. She picked it up, clearly impressed with its heft.
“Let me caution you about something,” I mentioned, “which ever one you choose will first be used on you vaginally, but then is going up your ass. Choose wisely.” She blanched, put the thick dick down. We agreed on something more sensible, medium-sized. I put both items in her hands. “You are to make this purchase. We’ll use my credit card, but you are to explain to the clerk that this purchase is for use on you, on both your orifices. If I have to speak up to clarify anything, I promise I’ll turn you over the bumper of my car, bare your bumper, and spank you in broad daylight. Are we clear?” She was panting slightly, making those mountainous peaks rise and fall. I put on a pair of sunglasses for anonymity, making Cherry feel all the more vulnerable.
Cherry was blushing hotly before we even got to the counter.
“We’ll take these two,” she volunteered with forced energy.
The clerk, looking bored, nodded, started ringing them up, repeating in a monotone as he’d been instructed to do with each sale, “Did you find everything okay?”
“I think so… I think this dildo will be the right size for both my sex and my… um, backdoor… Do you have any advice?”
Maybe it was that enchanting British accent, maybe her heaving breasts, maybe the fact that Chery is, as I’ve tried to convey all along, drop-dead-gorgeous, but the clerk looked up, blushed as deeply as she did, muttered, “Gee, I dunno…”
“Okay, thank you. I don’t imagine I can return it, once it’s been used…?”
“Ah, no, ma’am.”
“Very well then.”
“So, that’ll be all?”
“Yes.”
He told us the total including tax, I handed him my plastic.
Walking through the parking lot, I reeled Cherry in by her leash. “You did that very well, Cherry!”
“It was mortifying!” she mock-protested.
“Mr. Jones informed me that you love humiliation… If that wasn’t sufficient, I can go ahead and spank you right here…” I reopened my car door.
“That won’t be necessary, Mistress, if it’s all the same to you…”
Once inside the closed car, I kissed her passionately. Cherry pressed back against my mouth, opening hers, getting our tongues involved. My hand worked its way past her clothing to dip-stick-check her fluid levels. I found her pussy very wet. “Methinks the lady doth protest too much. You enjoyed that! When I get you home, you’re in for a good spanking.”
“Yes, Mistress.”
Personally, I enjoy Public Displays of Affection, as well as Public Displays of Discipline…”
“Maybe it’s because I’m British…” she offered off-handedly.
“That you need frequent discipline or that you are easily embarrassed?”
“Both, Mistress,” and that sly smile played on her lips once more.
“Just wait until I get you home,” I mock-chastised.
Cherry pressed her balled-up fists between her tightly-pressed thighs, “I’m not sure I can, Mistress.”
We were pulling into my driveway.
“Get your pants and knickers down to your knees, young lady,” I ordered. Cherry looked back at me horror-stricken. So I put her at ease by adding, “My neighbors have seen it all before, but it’s always been me who was the one who was bared and getting her butt beaten by a Top. It’s nice to have the shoe on the other foot. I mean it, young lady, you’re clothes had better be down before I get around to that side of the car…”
I opened her car door, helped her out, kept a tight grip on her arm as I aimed spank after spank to her undulating backside. It was a long, slow walk to the front door, punctuated with swats.
Again, once behind this closed door, passions were unleashed.
“God, that got my juices flowing!” I enthused, ripping the rest of her clothes off as I kissed her.
“Mine, too!” she countered as she pulled at my clothes and kissed back.
We only got as far as the living room, to that same straight-backed chair we’d christened when Cherry first arrived. I put her across my knee. I loved how soft she was, how right she felt in this position, how magnetic her butt cheeks were. I couldn’t keep my hands from wandering, caressing, exploring. I must have gotten lost in their sojourn.
“Are you going to spank me or what?” her disembodied voice came back at me.
I answered her with a good, hard smack, and didn’t relent for a long time of uninterrupted spanking, until Chery was yelping, almost sobbing, and trying to dodge the onslaught.
I pushed her off my lap onto the carpet, saying, “I can’t wait another minute! I have to have you! Where is that package?”
Cherry had carried it in, but dropped it half way across the living room floor. I retrieved it, cinched myself in, and practically dove on top of her. She’d chosen to lie on her back with her thighs splayed wide. She was so wet, I slid the phallus into her with one smooth thrust. Suddenly we were eye-to-eye, joined in love-making, rocking in synchronization, breathing in one another’s exhalations, intimately connected, fucking.
“Do I… have to… hold off cumming…?”
I interlaced my fingers of both hands with hers. “No, Sweetness… cum with me… cum as much as you want… all you can…”
She did, I did, we did! It was so cathartic, so affirming, so hot. The French have a phrase, “le petite morte’ which means little death. We each fainted dead away from the draining series of climaxes, then came-to together.
In a soft, solicitous voice, Cherry asked tentatively, “…You said something about anal…?”
Looking her deep in the eye, I asked, “Do you wanna? Do you like it? Have you done it much?”
Cherry smiled and answered, “Yes, I don’t know, and no to each question respectively.” I took her by the hand (wanting more intimacy than the leash afforded) and walked her to my bedroom, and over to the bed.
“Assume whatever position you’re comfortable in,” In the master-bath, I got the tube of lube and a condom.
Cherry was languidly lying on her side, looking so seductive without even trying. Her magnificent big bum was radiantly glowing, she looked back at me over her shoulder. I stopped in my tracks just to memorize everything I was seeing, to cherish it forever.
“Why the condom? You’re not going to ejaculate, are you?”
“I might, I squirt when really turned-on, but that’s not why,” I answered. “It’ll make clean-up easier.”
“You look really sexy with a phallus dangling between your legs,” she smiled.
“Thanks, I feel really hot!” I said honestly. With relish, I pried Cherry’s cheeks apart and began lubricating her rectum. We both found it erotic in the extreme. “I’m gonna take it nice and slow. Just try to relax and breathe and see if you like it…” I snuggled close behind her, spooning her curves while guiding the phallus between her orbs. Pressing the tip against her dimple, I told her the truth, that I found her to be incredibly beautiful and exceedingly feminine and so very sexy and fun to be with “and I’m inside you! That’s the toughest part. You’re doing wonderfully! Do you feel okay?”
“Uh-huh…” she nodded
“Good girl!” I said, using the words I knew I loved to hear. Now, I’m gonna push it in, real slow, just relax. You still okay?”
Cherry nodded. “I feel so dirty! It’s so fun to… give myself permission to… behave this way…”
“I love being the one to share this with you!” I whispered softly but felt deeply.
Cherry reached back and took my hands, which, having guided the cock into her, were now free. With that connection, she opened up her heart. “The only other time I tried this, the guy wasn’t gentle, like you just were, going in, and once in there, he thrust really painfully.”
“I’m not gonna thrust at all. I don’t like that, either! I think the porn industry taught a lot of men the wrong way to do this. I just find it so intimate. It has such a dirty reputation, and it feels so fucking good!” By this time, I was all the way into her. “Now, help me touch you like you like it…” I whispered in her ear as I fingered her sex.
“Oh, God, that’s… intense! That’s…!” And Cherry came, crumpling into a fetal ball. I slowly, gently eased out of her. Cherry began to softly sob.
“That’s okay! I’ve done that, too. It opens something up inside… let it out…”
I held her and stroked her and soothed her with hands and words. I was still talking when I realized that Cherry was fast asleep.
I slipped out of bed, slipped the condom off, slipped out of the harness, and cleaned everything up. I felt it was my turn to reciprocate. I made a sumptuous repast for lunch and brought it in to Cherry on a tray.
She awoke with a look of such sublime innocence on her face. Then a shadow seemed to cross her countenance, and she felt a momentary guilt. This storm cloud passed by quickly though. She had no reason to feel bad. We’d played, experimented, shared an intimate act that bonded us. All this was visible on her pretty features, all in the matter of seconds.
She found her voice, “Oh! This is so nice. You shouldn’t have. I’m your slave…”
“Eat!” and as she did, I took control of the conversation. “I didn’t feel confident when you first arrived,” I confessed. “What we’ve shared, the person you’ve revealed to me has given me my confidence back. Would you be comfortable redefining our dynamic, being switches with one another?”
“Does that mean I can climax whenever I feel like it?” she giggled, and I nodded, and we kissed.
“Lay back,” I said in more-of-a-suggestion and less-of-an-order kind of way.
“I know from experience how decadently delicious it is to eat good food while being eaten out…”
Cherry moaned softly at the tastes exploded in her mouth, how it made her replete tummy feel. Cherry moaned loudly as she exploded in my mouth, due to my mouth, as her tummy rumbled through orgasm after orgasm. For my part, I loved discovering how to pleasure a woman by doing what you know feels good, trying variations on that theme like a musical score, improvising, riffing. It seems she discovered a mantra, “Oh God!” which she said over and over and over. When she seemed exhausted, I crawled up next to her on the mattress. I could taste mango on her breath, Cherry could taste herself on my lips.
I had to say what was on my mind.
“I’m falling in love with you…” I said, feeling so naked that goosebumps rose and took flight across my epidermis.
“I’m so glad you risked saying that! I’m falling in love with you, too!” She rolled against me, smooth skin pressing together, wet pussies pressing together, soft mouths pressing together, tongues entwined, limbs entwined, two hearts hammering hard and in unison.
“You’re going to go back to England tomorrow,” I said, sadness flooding over me. “Maybe I can come visit you there, maybe you can come back here, but our ‘relationship’ whatever it is, has to change…” Was there nothing to say to this; Cherry responded with one lone tear falling from her lashes and trickling down her apple cheek. “Some lovers,” I continued, “might get matching tattoos or piercings… We’re kinky… I’d like to cane a tattoo into your ass, and bend submissively to you, to have you mark me in the same way, welts I’ll always wear in my heart.”
To someone else, it might have sounded shmaltzy. It apparently struck just the right chord with Cherry.
“Yes, yes! I love surrendering to a caning with the right person! You are my most-right person!”
“Will you promise to mark me just as hard, mark me as yours?”
“Yes,” and Cherry was about to say Mistress, but caught herself and added, “lover.” She bound out of bed like a child on a late Saturday morning with lots of cartoons and sugary cereal to digest. “I saw where you keep your collection of canes, in the umbrella stand, right by the door, do you have a favorite? Want me to fetch one?”
“Fetch two, the two thinnest, whippy ones,” I responded, and Cherry was gone.
When she returned, she wasn’t quite as ebullient. “Listen, I meant it when I said I love being caned… But I’m also a wimp. I don’t like blood…”
“We won’t break the skin, it’s a hard limit for me, too. Agreed?”
“God, we’re on the exact same wave length!” She handed me a cane, then turned on her heel and bent full over. I stared at her perfect split peach, wanting nothing more than to bury my face between her fleshy hillocks and motorboat my way to heaven. The thought occurred to me that Cherry’s round bottom cheeks almost identically matched her full, round breasts, that her eyes’ irises were matched by her titties’ large areole. She was the epitome of feminine sexuality, a butterball of creaminess, a woman at her pinnacle of ripeness. Cherry’s words pulled me out of this reverie.
“Please lover, will you mark me as yours, mark my bottom with your cane?”
I took position, took aim, gave her a moderate stripe, bisecting both big orbs with a perfect perpendicular welt. Her muscles flinched, her flesh contorted. Cherry yelped, grabbed her cheeks, stood up and danced. As she tearfully uttered a “Thank you…” I turned and took position, said the plea, felt the fear, got my stripe, struggled to absorb the sting. Back and forth we alternated. Neither of us had done this except for practice on a pillow. Both of us did a commendable job of placing the stripes in a tight parallel pattern on each other’s butts.
“Before tonight, what was the most severe caning you’ve ever received?” I asked Cherry. By this time, ten vivid welts shown from each of our buttocks.
She giggled through her tears, “Eight stripes,” she confessed. “And you?”
“Ten,“ I answered. “Shall we agree on twelve total?”
Cherry took a loud, deep cleansing breath and nodded. When both of us had administered and received our allotment, we fell into one another’s arms.
“God that hurts so fucking much!” she yelled. The rest of what she sobbed was unintelligible.
“Hurts like nothing else in this world!” I rejoined, immersed in the exquisite agony. To think I suggested this, volunteered for it, wanted it! But it brought me to a special sub space, a place I’d never shared with another submissive, another girlfriend-now-lover.
“Do you have any cold cream?” Cherry whimpered.
“Good idea!” I scampered to get the jar. We made a circuit on the bed, her painting my welts with the soothing balm, and my index finger tracing each of her stripes with the white, cool ointment.
“Oh, that feels so wonderful!” Cherry sighed.
“I know! …This is when I really crave anal. It just really feeds something in my submissive soul… Will you give it to me?”
Wordlessly, Cherry got up, adjusted the harness and strapped-in, put a fresh condom on the phallus (now understanding why), and started lubing it up.
I got on my elbows and knees and pointed my south end toward true north on the mattress.
The KY jelly was cold when Cherry touched a glob of it to my rosebud. I flinched and jumped. We both giggled at my reaction. She massaged it in, then repeated the process, using one finger, then two. If she attempted to work another glob up me, I was gonna involuntarily climax, so I joked, ”Look at you, you’re already a pro at this!” and we both laughed. “…Fuck me, cherished Cherry, fuck my ass…!”
I meant what I’d said to my lover, anal sex just feels so right after I’ve been punished hard, while simultaneously feeling so dirty, so sinfully wrong.
“Fuck, it’s so sexy seeing the phallus disappear into your butt hole, stretch it…” Cherry enthused.
“It feels just as sexy… as you now know… You know what I really love about butt sex? You can’t be anywhere but in the moment… it’s so intense, it demands your full attention…”
Cherry picked up on that comment and built upon it. “It’s amazing to me that it’s just an inch away from one another, sex up the butt and sex in the pussy, but they each feel so different, both sexy, but unique in their own way!”
I felt Cherry’s rounded belly curves press against my parted cheeks. She was in all the way to the hilt, “balls deep” if either of us had any. Just as I had with her, Cherry reached around and fingered my pussy. I knew that I would be climaxing in a matter of minutes.
“Fuck me! Fuck me up my ass, Cherry!”
“But you said you don’t…”
“I know what I said. I’m saying now that I need you to fuck me. I need to remember this butt fucking for the rest of my life!”
Cherry complied, but did so gently, cautiously.
“Fuck me!” I repeated and pushed back into her to set the rhythm. Once Cherry had matched it, I gave another order. “Spank me! Spank me for being mean to you…”
“It’s gonna hurt so much on your welts…”
“I want it, I deserve it, please do it!”
Ever-compliant, Cherry spanked my cheeks alternately as she thrust in and out of my grip. It did hurt, dreadfully, divinely, just as I hoped. Just enough to inspire me to orgasm instead of impeding it. I collapsed on the bed, Cherry collapsed on top of me, still inside me all the way. The butt sex unlocked something deep inside me, something primal, and I began to cry.
Through my wracking sobs, I tried to explain, “Every time I have sex up my butt from now on, I want to remember this time, with you, when it meant the most to me. Every time I go to sit for the next week, I want to have to think about it, be reminded of how abused I am back there, a memento of you…”
Moved by this declaration, Cherry pulled out, cradled me in her arms, rocked me like a baby, her baby. It took a long time for the tears to run-out, until I was sniffling and hiccupping and content.
“What time does your plane take-off tomorrow morning?” I asked when I could again process thought.
“Ten.”
“I’ll drive you to the airport, we ought to leave here by…”
“I’d prefer to take a cab. It’ll be easier, a cleaner break…” and her voice broke at this last phrase.
Already feeling lonely and bereft while still in each other’s company, we fell asleep like mother and child, with me in hollow beneath her womanly tits and atop her porpoise thighs.
We each only nibbled at the breakfast I’d made. Cherry packed and got dressed, while I puttered, doing little things like cleaning the strap-on and its magical manhood. I put it back in the brown paper bag it came in.
“I want you to take this with you,” I said, handing it to her. “Use it, use it often, use it in a photo-shoot with Mr. Jones.”
Cherry accepted the bag, started to say something, but didn’t. “I better pack that in the valise. It’d be embarrassing to have it x-rayed in my purse!” We laughed, but wanly.
She looked exactly like she did when she arrived, wearing that smart cloak, buttoned-up to her neck. I pulled it open to make sure she had clothes on underneath. We smiled again. The cab blew its horn. I kissed her. Cherry departed my life just as she’d walked into it, briskly, heels clattering on my driveway.
Asa’s note….
That’s it! I am packing up writing! Can’t compete with that!
Brilliant Jean Marie, I had better shoot Cherry in a strap on then!
Well done xxhugxx full of passion, exceptional!