Wednesday, August 22, 2018

Windy Wednesday

In case the title sums it up too concisely, I offer the following expanded explanation.

What: Windy Wednesday.

Why: Because I need a smile. And its is Wednesday.

Who: Two naughty girls

Where: Unfortunately,
not on my subway.



I know this doesn't appear to be a Windblown skirt per my usual.

I know there are differences out there:
Windblown Skirt, Upskirts, Skirtlifting etc.
All of
which I classify very distinctly in my book, well, because they are. At some point I may post my explanation of the differences in varieties and my reason for favoring some and not a fan of others. That is if anyone is interested in hearing about such rationale?

Regardless,
here is the full animated gif below.
I hope this brings a smile to your face as it did to mine and theirs.

Such beautiful, happily mischievous girls!

Granted, had this been my girl, those smiles would have been short-lived;
while my smile would have grown exponentially.



Oh, and in case you haven’t had the opportunity, please stop by and read my most recent story excerpts. It can be found one post back. Or for your convenience, simply by clicking here. And please do share your thoughts.

Monday, August 20, 2018

Sunday Mail

Here we are as Summer seeming to be drawing to an end, at least according to the calendar. I was planning to share some random thoughts, but instead opted to share this chapter, these scenes. Perhaps you will recognize a few characters, or not; but either way I hope there is enough here to brighten your Monday.

............

“I didn’t know we got mail on Sundays,” she asked wrapping her arms around his chest while leaning into him.

“We don’t,” he answered, wondering why she couldn’t piece things together sometimes.

“But it looks like you just got the mail” she continued while resting her head softly against his back and squeezing her smaller perkiness against his larger stiff back. Wrapping herself around his warmth she closed her eyes and felt the cool morning breeze run up her legs.

“No, Doll, this isn’t from today. You forgot to get the mail from yesterday. And maybe even from the past few days from the looks of it,” he answered her while shuffling through the stack.

“Aaaah; well, it...Well, he must have dropped it off late. Or after I checked it,” she stumbled for an acceptable answer.

“What time did you go check?”

“Uh..when?”

“Yesterday. What time did you go check the mail, yesterday?” His tone rising at the realization he already knew the answer. His one hand made a simple attempt to undo her arms which were now locking tighter against his bare chest.

“I don’t remember; maybe around…Well, what did we get, anything exciting? I was hoping for the VS catalog,” she slithered her legs around his, attempting to steer the conversation away.

He swung his arm backwards i
n a flash, and stuck his target with echoing precision.

“OW! Fuuuh!"  she screamed, jumping away from him and marching off the porch and into the house; bare-feet stomping against hardwood, cool hands frantically kneading her stinging, barely covered bottom.
"I hate when you do that!”
 



“Well, I hate when you avoid answering my questions,” he snapped back, grabbing her by her arm and catching her just inside the doorway.

“Muumuu. Uhh! Let me go!” she protested, trailing her free arm. “Let me go! I hate when you slap my ass like that, without warning! It really hurts.”

He pulled her back towards him, swung her around and locked her own arms in front of her, all with seemingly orchestrated grace. She nearly lost her footing, her bare-feet sliding on polished wood floors, as he planted her mere inches away from him, holding her at attention by her wrists while staring down at her big animated eyes. To anyone who might have been peeking through the remote living room windows, illuminated by the bright morning sun, and witnessed the action of their seemingly coordinated moves would have thought it all resembled the choreography of swing dancers.

That is except for obvious details; foremost that they were not dressed the part in the least. He dressed in nothing more than long pants and she in seemingly less. Wearing merely a white tank top that despite being stretched as it was, still barely greeted her belly button. There was nothing more, except if one counted the skimpy pair of skintight black rayon panties who’s questionable purpose seemed to be to cover only her most intimate of areas.

“I ‘otta spank you for more reasons than one” he threatened wondering to himself why she always managed to rile him up with her reactions to her own in-actions. Why couldn't she just admit her mistakes and go from there. No, instead she would avoid admitting anything wrong and then, to his utter disdain she would proceed to lie about it. At her age he would think she was well beyond this immature way of dealing with her short-comings.

“I go away for a few days and come back to more than one mess. And now possibly another…” he scolded, gesturing to the ransacked room with the stack of bills.

“You didn’t seem to mind the mess when you got home last night. You managed to walk past it all to get to the bedroom in a hurry, didn’t you?” she squinted in objection.

“I was busy with other things; other more important things to do like delivering a very important, firm message. Or did you forget already?"




"How could I forget, I can still..." she cut herself off feeling the throbbing between her cheeks, now refreshed, to her annoyance thanks due to his slap.

"I should have spanked your ass good and hard as soon as I got back…”

“Well you missed your chance, and besides I think you did enough damage back there.”

“Don’t be so sure, Young Lady.”

She swallowed hard, praying he wasn't serious, “Just let me go, I have to go change for brunch,” she protested. 

“Oh! You think I am still taking you out to brunch?” 

She froze; “Bbb…but, you promised!” she pouted as her eyes grew larger.  

He didn’t answer her, wanting to let out a full force corporal attack on her spoiled bottom right then and there. Yet he held back. And just as he was about to follow through, she chimed out the coincidental reason why he had hesitated.

“Besides, remember what my aunt told us, ‘Relationships are built on compromise, patience and promises kept.’”

He looked down at her, nodded and gently kissed the top of her messed hair.
“She is right. Now go get changed.”

…….


“Just 10 more minutes and then we can go,” he seemed to call out to the otherwise empty room and not necessarily to her.

She stomped her foot and exhaled loudly.

“Easy there; or you’ll have to start over.
I think this will all work out; your aunt was right.”

“THIS is NOT what she meant,” she yelled back at him without looking over her shoulder. She trembled but did her best to remain still with her fingers interlaced and her arms locked in place over her head. 

“I don’t know about that, I think this might of been exactly what she had in mind. You are showing lots of patience standing there, facing the wall, like a good lil’ girl.

And as far as compromise? Well, I can accept that you failed to do what you were supposed to do while I was gone. You took your bottom scorching spanking for your laziness with relatively minimal objection. That is compromise.

And I kept my promise; I’m taking you to brunch.

After you are done with your corner time, that is.”

She was facing the wall, nose to the corner, with her bottom, for all intents and purposes, exposed. He had hiked up her skirt and and tucked it into itself, pulled down her tights to just above her knees. Leaving her panties on as a courtesy, he told her; but she knew that being the minimal crosshatch of a g-string that they were that they served little purpose in saving her modesty; her freshly spanked and reddened bottom was on full unobstructed display.





He took another sip of his hard drink and stared at her compromised position, entertained by the sight, and added “In fact, I think I will thank her personally at brunch,” he smirked. 


"No!
you can't. You damn well better not, you..."

"Easy there; mind your language. You don't want to bury yourself deeper.  Keep it up and I'll march you out to the truck just as you are."

She absorbed his words, swallowed hard and holding back a whimper, released a tremble. Combined with her shifting
weight from one leg to the other, only served to send her plump bottom into a reverberating jiggle.
 

All to his further amusement as his mind contemplated if she was done for the time being. He contemplated the bit of added humiliation to her already punished state. He imagined her in an awkward and precarious state, as she shuffled along, should he require her to walk across the living room, out the door and into his truck just as she was. Not allowing her to pull up her tights or pull down her skirt until later. Much later.

............ 

As always, your feedback via comments is golden. But here are a few polls for your convenience. Two for the Ladies and two for the Gents.:






















Tuesday, August 14, 2018

Political Related - Non-Political Post

So I was watching the news the other night which is always a bad idea. I have told myself countless times it is best to avoid the local news outlets in general for they lack substance and tend to focus only on “bad news”.

As an aside, but to be totally transparent one of the reasons I choose to tune in time and again is based on the reporters outfits. Yes, call me shallow and or sexist. I am not denying it in this instance. But, for sake of clarification and my defense, this particular channel must have a contract with a specific clothes manufacturer for all the female reporters seem to always wear the same style of clothes. Perhaps this is a typical and/or national type sponsorship thing that I am not aware of. Even if it is, I don’t much really care one way or the other. What I am drawn to is these tight form fitting dresses with big color blocks of fabric that seem to only serve the purpose of highlighting these women's...these women's as…talents.

And it is not just the stereotypical weather girls, but all the female reporters. Trust me, I am not complaining; but simply digressing.

Not my news channel (unfortunately),
but for illustrative purposes.
[I do hope this multi-gif loads]


Back to the point of my post is that I heard a story about a politician who was “outed” for “his fetish” and declared unfit for office because of it. Since it was a TV soundbite which, as is often the case, left me with more questions than answers; I had to investigate and research further online. Here is a link to one written version of the story.


So I am not one to judge another's fetishes. I try my best not to and generally try to live by the “to each, his own” code.  However, I was in shock. I was in shock, because I had no idea this was even a thing. It is absolutely a thing - proof here.


Which led me to think further.


Am I missing an opportunity?
Am I missing the opportunity of writing Bigfoot Spanking genre?

Perhaps that is what is missing here on my blog.
Perhaps that is what you all really want to read about.
Not my typical everyday stories here, but stories of Bigfoot and his spanking adventures.

So I ask you dear readers, should I quit my style of writing and veer of into the realm of Bigfoot spanking erotica?


 

Tuesday, August 7, 2018

A Few of My Favorite Things

Since my last post did not seem go over well, I offer this much lighter toned post.

Or perhaps simply just because it is Tuesday and the weeks have been long...

As Maria advised us, sometimes it good to fill our minds with a few of our favorite things; therefore I will share some of mine. Some obvious and others not so much, since I have been told I have very odd and eclectic tastes. 


When the dog bites
When the bee stings
When I'm feeling sad
I simply remember my favorite things
And then I don't feel so bad

Lanky girls in heels
Lanky girls especially when teetering in heels.









 







Silly adult girls not afraid of having fun
Silly
adult girls not afraid of handstands.






















Whiskers on kittens

Especially neatly trimmed whiskers on kittens...



Hidden behind bright, cornered bottoms.



Girls in ruffly white panties, tied up with blue satin ribbons



Soon to be followed by

Contrite teardrops rolling off eyelashes
with warm rosy cheeks. 






















 

These are just a few of my favorite things.

I doubt Maria would approve of any of these, especially at my horrible attempt at rhyming.
Regardless, I am wondering what are a few of your favorite things?
and curious if we have any in common.



Wednesday, July 25, 2018

Stars & Fireworks: A Hump Day Story

Here is a much delayed Fourth of July story post. (I know, I know, but at least we are still in July.)

Fair Warning to young ladies with tender ears: This is not necessarily a spanking story.
However, I do hope you enjoy it as a welcome distraction.

As always, your feedback is key and appreciated.


And almost forgot, the following
story may or may not be based on actual events.


..................
 

I follow the droplets growing across the glass and wonder how it is possible. How is it possible that the heat instantly obliterates most of the water and leaves only the slightest traces of a former existence; steam ghosts lingering for seconds before rising and escaping to the heavens. The warmth of countless lost souls embrace me for a mere moment before they vanish.

Yet, somehow some manage to fight on, if for just mere moments more. They cling to the glass doors. Hold on tight, clinging on with support until they can’t any longer and finally lose their grip and tumble. Or perhaps they lose their support. Perhaps they were let go.

I wipe my hand across the glass; tossing water drops away; speeding up their journey to their inevitable end. Behind the glass I see an unfocused figure; the shape of my momentary salvation.

She is anxiously staring at me, waiting for me to be done. To be done with this ritual which seems to be more of a common occurrence these days rather than a infrequent visit as I am told it should be at this point in the journey. She is standing there and just like the water drops, if you look hard enough, close enough; trembling.

I shove my face into the steaming jets once more, hide my face with my pruny hands; just before grabbing for the controls and shutting off the pain with a swift turn.

Pushing the door out I reach for my towel, but instead I am handed it.

“I walked Geronimo and Scout already and set them up in the garage for the night,” she whispers. 

“How they do?” I question without looking at her, focused on drying myself off before wrapping the towel about my waist.

“Pretty good considering it sounds like a war zone out there…” she pauses as a I look into her teary eyes, “I meant…I…

Well, you know part of the problem is; it is just that Geronimo is getting to be like an ol’ man and…”

She catches herself and turns away, “I’ll meet you in bed.”


..................


Sitting up, I stroke her hair and try to focus on anything, but the seemingly advancing sounds. Aggravated, I flip off the television, and kiss the top of her head and begin to get up. 

“No. Don’t. 


Just stay here. Please.

I’ll help you relax,” she pushes her head against my chest.

“I am not sure you can,” I gently nudge her to allow for my escape as I attempt to pull the sheets away.

“Let me try,” she offers “Please,” and without moving herself from where she is curled over me, but instead gripping tighter to the cool sheets in the warm room. With that she begins stroking her hand over the sheet just over my waist;
without moving her head turning only her eyes up at my direction

“See, I must be doing something right” she smiles at the growing result, eyes twinkling with compassion rather than lust.

As much as I appreciated the effort, I motion for her to stop, “Yeah, I am not so sure…”

“Shhh. Let me, please,” she proceeds to slide her soft hand under the sheets and grabs onto me firmly.

“You don’t have…”

“Please. I…I’ll do something diff…Like, you know, maybe talk dirty,” she insists, “Or I’ll…I can tell you a story?”

Her efforts catch my attention and I am grateful for the offer knowing that these are not in her comfort zone. 

“Well, you can try; but what kind of story?” Attentive now, but not sounding as encouraging as I had wanted to be.

“I’ll…I’ll tell you about the time, that time; you know…when…” she stumbles on her own words, looking inwards to find her small courage for the greater cause.

“What time?”

“You know. Years ago, first time I was out of town; for the Fourth of July? Do you remember that?” She begins hesitantly.

“Remind me,” I encourage her, “Remind me of all the details.”

“Well, I wasn’t really expecting to be going away that weekend, so I packed as quickly as possible before my mom changed her mind about watching the little. It was all last minute and I sooo needed to get away after the divorce disaster.”

“Go on.”

“But I wasn’t expecting it to be so fricken' hot there and hadn’t packed for it. It was scorching hot and I was drippin' wet..."


“Weren't you always wet back then? Always ready." I interrupted.

She shook her head, “Nooo. Not what, never-mind.
I had to change out of my jeans as soon as I got to the hotel room and just put on the first things that made sense out of my luggage.

I didn’t know anyone in town and I was all alone. Julia had missed her flight and now wasn't coming in until that night. I was going to wait for her before I hit up any bars. As much as I wanted to meet a guy, despite as much as I needed it; I could wait another day, I had waited this long.
But I wanted to explore so, I raided the mini bar and a few bottles of courage later I was ready to go out on my own.

I walked into town rather than taking a cab, as I wasn’t in any hurry.  So walking along the desert road all these trucks would pass by and honk and guys would yell stuff out the window at me.”

“Don’t they always?”

“Ha, ha. Yes, well they used to, but this was more than usual and I couldn’t figure it out so I just kept walking and ignoring them as best I could.
I didn’t think I was wearing anything special. A simple tank top and my skirt went down to my knees and wasn’t tight, not really; especially not in comparison to you know... Plus, I was only wearing flip-flops and not even heels or anything.




“Go on”

“Well there was a special reason…” she stops, looking up at me for additional encouragement while holding on to my manhood tighter.

“What was the reason?” I nod and she begins stroking me as she retells the rest of the tale.

“Well I didn’t find out for a long time. I had walked into that tiny 'downtown', up and down the streets, in and out of the little shops. No one in town seemed really friendly, most seemed rude in fact and I couldn’t figure out why.

I walked past the groups at the pre-Fourth Parade setup and past the crowds lining up at the fireworks stands. Everyone just seemed to stare. I took it that it was obvious, for some reason and somehow, that I wasn’t a local. I got a few of the typical ‘you must be really excited to meet a guy on leave’ type comments, but a lot of just unknown rudeness."


“So?”

“Well…Don’t you remember what happened?” she asks coyly continuing her hand exercise.

“Remind me” as I stroke her hair in return.

“Well, I was using the ATM, which is right on the sidewalk. Out in the open facing Main Street. So outta nowhere, someone taps me on the shoulder and I jump.

Turns out it is this guy in uniform. He tells me he needs to get back to base asap, but he left his wallet in his buddy’s car, who took off with some weekend hookup and can’t be found. He seems genuine, plus he’s hot and all, so I lend him a couple bucks for a cab. Plus, I had wanted to meet a Marine anyways,” She winks to accentuate the point.

“Go on,” I respond as she continues her hand motions, slowly but firmly.

“He offers to buy me dinner and show me around, after he gets his wallet back of course. I think sure why not. As we are waiting to flag down a taxi, he starts
talking me up and eventually says ‘So I guess you are my hero today, Miss. I always had a crush on Wonder Woman so that had to be a sign; that is why I approached you, because you obviously like her, too.’

And that is when I realize it!”

“Realize what?” I ask softly.

“Realize that the sun was so bright it was making my outfit transparent! And it fully hits me that I have been walking around like that; unintentionally showing everyone my bra and panties. All. Day. Long!”

“You tease, you.” I breath in deeply as her fingers run up and down my shaft, from tip to stem, over and over and I nod for her to continue the story.

“Yes. No.

Yes, I was, giving a show, but no I wasn’t being a tease.

I had no idea I was; but should’ve though,” she smiles bashfully.

“So which panties?” I ask closing my eyes.

“That's the really embarrassing part. They were…they were…”

“Yes, which ones?” I insist.

“They were special ones; blue ones. So of course they were showing clearly through my white skirt, that bright blue and all.”

“But tell me why were they so special?” I insist as I want to hear it from her, “Why were you wearing those?”

“Because it was Fourth of July weekend, remember, and I wanted to wear something patriotic.”

“So how special?”

“They were my, my….my Wonder Woman panties” she manages to get it out, blushing.

“So what did they look like?” I ask with a full face smile.

“They were bright blue with big white stars, with the gold double 'W' logo on the front. Adult panties, but they…they probably were mistaken for Underoos” she squeaks, blushing further as she lets out a nervous giggle and before I can say anything else she pulls back on my erection and gives it a slobbery lick.

And another. And another.

“Mmmmm…And then what?” I urge her on, “Keep going.”

“That is the main part” she trails off and closes her mouth and holds me firmly between her lips.

“No, you are forgetting the main part, Doll”

She releases me as her modesty begins to catch up with her. “Uhh, you remember, I don’t need to remind you.”

I open my eyes and she is staring at me. She moves her hair out of her face as she examines my manhood still standing fully at attention right before her eyes. She hides her face and turns as my erection meets her lips once more. She takes in just the tip; kisses it while looking up at me.

“Tell me what happened,” I urge her.

“I think YOU should tell ME what happened next. I want to hear you tell me all about THAT part,” she counters beginning her hand motions again; up and down, up and down.

..................


“YOU tell me. Tell me about that…that…that afternoon when Wonder Woman met her match,” she insists and now it is her turn to listen fully.


She slides me back into her mouth as far as she possibly can just before pulling off slowly, and closes her mouth with a smack as the visual of that afternoon comes back clearly. I push my fingers through her hair, holding her face up at an angle so I can see her big passionate eyes. Her entire body seems to be flushing as I see tiny beads of perspiration on her skin as the humidity of the room is aiding their quick multiplication and she is clearly being sent back to that day as well.





I smile picturing the scene vividly. A vision of
seductive innocence; conflicting messages as she unknowingly shows off her sexy red bra, but immature themed panties. Adding a heightened pulse wherever she went to an already quickened pace of a festive weekend that had overtaken that tiny, typically dreary conservative dessert town.

 
“Well, if I remember the story correctly...This drunk tease of a girl gets an attitude and tells this guy that he shouldn’t be checking out her ass in the first place. The guy gets upset and tells her a lady shouldn't be walking around with a billboard on her ass if she wasn't advertising. She thinks he is calling her ass wide. Not what he meant. They go back and forth arguing and he pushes until she winds up in a retreat.

She attempts to explain it was an accident, that she was distracted and here from a much needed break from her disappointing life, from her own small town, and even from her little one; even if just for a couple days.
She recoils, tears almost fill her eyes as she just wants him to understand; anyone to understand.

But it appears to her that  her explanation doesn’t seem to sit entirely well with him. She sees that and yet she is also able to see something else, more importantly, the compassion in his eyes.

Next thing she knows they are both in a cab heading back to her motel. The minute they get into her room he slams the door shut and they attack each other.

They are entangled
passionately, making out wildly, fueling off each other's lust. He wants her so bad and it is obvious she wants him too. But then. Then he stops and pushes her away. 

He starts scolding her for being irresponsible. For not paying more attention to how she dressed, especially in a conservative judgemental town like this and whose streets are soon to be filled with hundreds of GIs who haven't been close to a real female in weeks. He tells her that she is lucky she is not his girlfriend. That if she were that she would be sorry right about now as he would be teaching her a firm lesson.

'Good luck ever trying that, with me' she snaps off at him. 

'You know what you sound like? Now that I think about it, those panties suit your immature attitude perfectly.'


'Whaat. Ever!' she stomps.

'Do you know what you need?'
And before she knows it, he is showing her just that.

He flips her around and over his knee and slaps her clearly defined bottom over her skirt. She is in shock as she has never been spanked. She is kicking and screaming, losing her flip-flops in the struggle, but he isn't about to let her go. She can't believe what she has got herself into.

She has gone from bad to worse and now is all alone in a hotel room, in an unknown town, about to be spanked by a total stranger. He flips up her skirt and sees her comic panties up close and personal and that's when the real fireworks begin.


Wonder Woman is no match for his fit arms as he targets her tight ass with a dozen solid slaps. The repetitive strikes leave a lasting impression on her virgin bottom. Just as quickly as he pulled her over his knee he yanks her to her feet. She attempts to steady herself, pulled upright too abruptly, stumbling over her discarded flip-flop as he flips her around and  easily pushes her backwards onto the bed.

Pushing her skirt above her waist and out of the way, he tugs off her panties getting them down past her knees as he proceeds to lift her legs. Each of his hands grabs her corresponding ankles; holding her legs high and straight before
spreading them treating himself to a clear view of her freshly trimmed bush.

He releases her legs and leaning in, raises his hand and slaps her vulnerable exposed pussy; simply for good measure. She yelps out in shock as her bare legs madly peddle-kick at the ceiling in pained protest. She is in shock at how fast he's moved her from one compromising position to another.

Despite her kicking, he grabs her ankles firmly again and the only thing she has managed to free is one leg from her panties, which now flutter down in a corkscrew rhythm to be caught by her bent thigh. And before she can piece together any comprehensible protest he has penetrated her warm welcoming lips and he lets her know what's to come;
'
I'm going to pound this extra tight lil' pussy of yours until these stars on your panties won't be the only stars you'll be seeing.' "



.......

At that moment, I am instantly brought back to the present. I urgently motion for her to back up in the bed as I yank the sheets away. I swing her around, pulling her and guiding her; arms and legs this way and that until she is now upright on all fours facing away from me when I am met with a surprise.

“Well, well, well. So what have we here, Young Lady?”

“I…I thought…well I was hoping these would help you remember,” she blinks and pulls at the elastic waistband “I know they aren’t the same ones from back then,”

“No, they aren’t. Not at all.”

"But…but” she mistakes my factual tone for dissatisfaction, “Well, I was smaller then, a few littles less and a couple sizes smaller...
Are they okay?” she asks looking over her shoulder at me; her desire for approval clear in her tone.
"These just fit better now, but they are still Wonder Woman panties so...Owww!


“Shhh, stop! They are fine!”
I interrupt her as
I deliver a single, solitary yet thundering slap to her ass.


“Of course they are. Of course they are fine. These are just your hot MILF version Wonder Woman panties,” I explain tring to reassure her while staring at the sheer blue, high-waisted panties and all the lush detail that they fail to conceal underneath.



I
grab onto her hips, position myself right behind her and pull at the rayon bunched low and snug between her legs. I proceed to tug on the swath of blue. Rolling it down and out of the way, until it bunches below her cheeks and across her thighs. I slide my erection forward against her soft skin and rest myself along the length of the deep crevice of her full cheeks.

“Then or now, even though some things change, other things shouldn’t” I whisper in her ear, while reaching for the nightstand.

Within a minute, thick warm clear fluid cascades down over her ample bottom as I watch it slowly seep between her cheeks as her body goes into an instant tremble.


“I really enjoyed teaching Wonder Woman a lesson that day” I make it known, "But I am  going to love reminding her of it tonight."

My hands grab her exposed flesh and I proceed to spread her cool, yet sticky, naked cheeks apart.
I line myself up and without further hesitation proceed to shove myself into her petite, tight asshole as she groans out.

I keep pushing forward against the eased resistance until my stiff erection is in and then further yet. Until half way deep inside her little hole and her ample warm cheeks are wrapped around me.

"Oh, oh, oww! Oh, Gawwd! Ohhh gawwd!”

She is trembling, sweating and grunting, wanting a release even before I begin. Before I begin to ram myself into her unprotected bottom.
I pull out just a notch to give her hope that I may be exiting completely. But instead I push back in again, harder. And then I pull back only to sink in once more and even harder the third time.

"
Owww! Oh...Mmmm…"Ohhh gawwd!” 
 
She attempts to thrust herself forward, trying to move away but only to slide back and in-turn begins an unintentional gyration of her bouncy cheeks. Her bottom jiggles as I pull her backwards towards me, as she skids with harsh resistance further down my shaft.

"Fuuu! Ughh, I...oh, Pppease, sstt!”

I pull her up by her hair, pulling her against my bare chest as her ass stays impaled under the control of my erection, stretching her wide and keeping her filled firmly. All until I can’t take it anymore and I cork myself deeper into her delicate hole for a final ride, until…



I pull out and begin to yank her panties furiously back up getting them; only a third of the way. The sheer fabric manages to partially cover one cheek, leaving the other side and most of her crevice fully exposed.
I focus on the blue rayon target and exposed flesh as I begin to explode. She lurches forward and exhales loudly, spreading and sliding across the cold sheets as fireworks rain down over her back, plus across her half naked gyrating bottom, until they disappear into her crack towards her ravaged little hole.

"Thank you."


“No, thank you. I knew my panties needed some stars," she mumbles.

..................


So what did you think?

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