Smack

      16 Comments on Smack

It is a Santa Ana burn, salted and gusty, that whips its heat through my veins, searing a hole in my gut and charring its dry scratch tight in my throat.

I am ablaze, dispassionately overemotional, cold with grief, and I want nothing more than to push this stinging nettle ache OUT.  Out of myself, past the nerve endings in my own skin and onto his, with palm-pinking strokes of my hands against his flesh.

He’s just given me an orgasm – one of my favorite kinds – and in it I have found, instead of relief, a jittery calm that will only be assuaged — if, indeed, it can be assuaged — by a very specific smacking sting:  I need to give him a spanking.

On his cock.

He sees the look in my eye and anticipates what I’m going to ask.

Or rather, what I will not ask.

I very rarely ask.  Not for these kinds of things.

I simply tell him what I need.

What I don’t tell him – what remains unspoken – is that if he gives me what I need, he will, as a reward, be given what he’s asked for.

Which is to be allowed to cum.

Inside me.

This is not a game we play.  It is not a carrot-for-the-rabbit trick or a sexual manipulation for emotional gratification.  It is just Us, knowing one another the way we do, understanding to the marrow the other’s respective needs and responses, and giving each other the best of ourselves.

We share a long look, both our eyes sliding down to his torso, where remnants of his most recent surgery stare back at us, defying our desires.

I know his tendency to tense his core muscles, to tighten his stomach in preparation for (or in response to) blows – as does he – and we are both thinking, given his most recent medical adventure, of the potentially painful consequences of his acquiescence.

But he does not say “Don’t hurt me” and I do not promise to be careful.  He knows I will be without needing the words, and I know I cannot say the words because I make a point of never saying things I don’t mean.

Will I hurt him?

Quite probably.

I am driven by the need to hit out, but snaked through that urgent compulsion is the drive to feel the heat transfer between my hands and his cock, to see him harden and swell, to bring him close while pushing this grieving pain inside me both deeper down and farther out of myself.  I need the taut-flesh tremble and swollen-head twitch, the teasing tap, the clapping blow, the collision of indurated digits and sensitized integument.

Will I injure him? is the question more to the point, and we both know the answer to that is no.

“Just…” he begins, lovingly shaking his head at me in I-know-I’m-in-for-it understanding, “Just don’t, y’know…”

I quirk my brow at this assumptive caveat, and he grins.

“Just,” he says, nodding at his already-hard cock, “don’t whack his head off.”

And so it is with laughter on our lips that we begin.

Laughter will quickly turn to intense concentration (mine) and controlled-breath sighs (his) before eventually escalating to Don’tStopNo -and- NoNoMore -and- WaitDon’tStop groans.

But that all comes after.

After I push my fist down onto his erection, after pulling his turgid flesh tight to better intensify the sensitivity of his nerve endings.  After I begin…

…with that first.

Hard.

SMACK.

.

.

COMPLETELY UNNECESSARY EXPLANATORY NOTE:  It feels strange to write this, only because it feels strange to be writing at all.  I have been hit unexpectedly hard by the equally-unexpected loss of my dear friend, and it makes being here – here in front of a computer, writing; here in the blogosphere, doing… whatever it is that I do – a strange and foreign experience.

I struggled with the decision to post this. I feel raw. Unready.

But I have not missed a Kink of the Week topic since I joined in writing for the meme, and as strange as it feels to write, I think it would feel even stranger still to NOT write.  Especially about this topic (though, admittedly, I took it in a different direction than the prompt led).  😉

Besides, there was no one more familiar with ‘strange’ than my friend Wild was.  And I know he would have enjoyed reading this.  🙂

16 thoughts on “Smack

  1. kinkyandperky

    Oh, Ms F, that was AWESOME. Really, really liked that – the whole scene, your control of it and the way it builds, and how you describe that intensity of understanding between you. It was, ahem, very… umm… ‘stirring’…

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  2. May More

    First, i am sorry for the loss of your friend – always difficult to lose a loved one.

    This post is Hot Hot Hot. I love the way you lead up to what will happen. The relationship you have portrayed between the two people is wonderful, the slight bit of narrative between them made me smile. I am not sure if this is fact or fiction? Enjoyed it immensely…
    May More recently posted…Wet Play At Home or Away ~ On Sinful SundayMy Profile

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  3. Dawn D

    I’m glad you wrote that explanatory note. Not for me, because I have long accepted that grieving is a process and that we all go down its path in the way that best suits us. Ways that sometimes surprise even us.
    I’m glad you wrote it for yourself. You needed to forgive yourself for not sticking to what you expected. At least that’s how it felt to me.
    This was hot and loving at the same time, and I enjoyed reading it. Even more so because it was you describing an unusual way of dealing with grief, but one that worked both for you and your husband, and that’s all that counts, really, isn’t it?

    Reply
  4. Bee

    I had to giggle at not ‘smacking his head off’.

    I am so sorry about the loss of your friend, I have just lost a key family member this week too and I understanding the feeling of being lost and out of place. Take you time and make sure you look after yourself where you can…I really need to listen to my own advise!
    Bee recently posted…Like a Bee to honeyMy Profile

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