Rounded cheeks,
so soft so untouched.
They are waiting for it
that first slap of my hand.
Knowing what is going to happen,
sharp pain at first,
instant wetness comes next.
Those quivering
wanting more, needing more.
Another slap, then again,
over and over.
The cheeks are turning red.
Seeing the arousal
between those thighs that tremble.
Hands bound above the head,
loud moans filling the room.
I stop and look,
then I rub those cheeks.
Feeling those welts under my palm,
spreading those legs.
Climbing between them
I see the wetness, smell it.
And I smile, knowing that
I did it. And can do it again.
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