♥ Site recommended story ♥
Erotic fiction by your host, Rod Cayenne.
“Mmmm, a dozen red roses, my favourite artisan chocolates and breakfast in bed. My, you really have pushed the boat out, darling, haven’t you?”
He just grunted, exhausted temporarily from their lovemaking. She kissed his stubbly face and then dabbed copious amounts of cum away from his cock with a tissue, before announcing, “Actually, I’ve bought something for you.”
“You have?” he asked, with barely disguised surprise.
“Yes, just a little something. Something you’ve wanted for a while, and something I wanted to give you.”
She reached under the bed and retrieved a long, white cardboard box, tied with a bonny red ribbon. He took it from her with a kiss, and was immediately surprised by the light weight of the box, immediately suspecting that it was empty, or some other kind of wind-up. He untied the ribbon and lifted the lid of the box. Inside was black tissue paper, which he parted to reveal a rattan school cane!
“Oh good lord!” he exclaimed. “What’s this for?”
“Well, it’s for you of course, my darling. You said you’d missed out on the cane when you were younger, and that you’d often wondered what it was like.”
“Oh! I didn’t mean it. I’ve changed my mind!”
“Nonsense, darling. Don’t lie to me. You know you really want it! Let’s try it out.”
“Don’t you like my present, darling?” she pouted, “I’m hurt. You said you wondered what it was like and I thought, at 52, it’s time you found out!”
“Alright, alright. But I’m a damned fool for saying yes. Just don’t do it too hard, will you?”
They both climbed out of their peachy duvet, and she picked up the cane.
“Right darling, bend over the bed then. I think a dozen red marks to match the dozen red roses!”
“A dozen sounds a lot. Go easy on me!”
“No!” she cried, lashing the cane down with a laugh and all of her strength. The cane wrapped around badly, cutting his haunch painfully.
“Fuck, fuck, fuck! That’s not meant to happen!” he cried. “Look, you’re holding that cane all wrong!”
“Nonsense darling. I’m holding it by the handle.”
“Exactly! As I understand it the crook handle is just for show, or for hanging the cane up by. You need to hold it a few centimetres down the shaft, otherwise you can’t control it properly.”
“Quite the expert, aren’t you?”
“Well, all boys know this stuff. Let’s try again shall we?” The second stroke was hard but landed accurately on his ample arse. He gasped at the pain. Had he really wanted to try this? Just two strokes in, and it was proving to be quite an ordeal.
“How was that darling?”
“Fine, just fine,” he said through gritted teeth.
A third stroke whipped down, accompanied by a manly grunt.
The fourth however, was met by a boyish squeal. She laughed and laughed. “This is really turning me on darling,” she chuckled.
“I’m glad someone’s enjoying it!” he moaned.
Strokes five and six landed on top of the earlier ones, causing more discomfort and grunts.
“Can we leave it at six of the best, darling?” he asked.
“Certainly not!” she said, becoming ever more turned on, “This cane is a present we can both enjoy!”
A seventh stroke hit hard and he cried out, “I can assure you I’m not enjoying this at all!”
She whipped the eighth and ninth strokes down, saying, “Maybe not now, but later you will.”
“ARRRGH!” he exclaimed as the tenth stroke hit, clearly not enjoying it one bit.
“Elevensies,” she laughed and then “Last one darling!” Her face was flushed, not so much from exertion, more from being really turned on.
After the final stroke, he leant over and dabbed the cum-soaked tissue on his wounded haunch. That seemed to help with the pain. Just then they both heard a key in the front door, followed by a loud cry of “Yoohoo, darling.”
He dropped the tissue, saying, “Shit! It’s your mother! Doesn’t she know it’s fucking Valentines Day?”
Story © MMXVI by Rod Cayenne
Heart image: Creative Commons
D I S C L A I M E R
All characters appearing in this story are over 18 and are fictitious. Any resemblance to real persons, living or dead, is purely coincidental.