Stallion’s Storm

Stallion’s Storm

I crave the thrill of spanking you today,
Not for mischief, but for your gentle way,
I want to pull you over my knee,
Even if you playfully protest,
“Spank me, touch me, use me,” you confess.

I lift the sundress I chose with care,
To expose your bare ass for my stare,
My strikes are not meant to hurt or bruise,
But to redden and sting, with love’s infuse,
Swats of desire, lust, and pleasure, in fuse.

With each rhythmic spank, the heat does rise,
I pause to feel the warmth, your fiery guise,
Your ragged breath reveals a hidden plea,
You love the spanks, they set your mind free,
Flossing thoughts while arousing you with glee.

The spanking continues, a passionate play,
From gentle slaps to firm claps, the fray,
Each pause in rhythm brings new delight,
Not to massage, but to explore your tight,
My fingers probe, finding warmth so right.

Deeper they dive, your body speaks with heat,
Demanding more, more, an endless feat,
My arousal grows, long and hard, in stride,
With a gasp, your voice begs for my pride,
To let my stallion run free, no need to hide.

I taste your pleasure, savoring each thrill,
As you climax, my tongue dances with skill,
Relishing your essence, each moan and gasp,
Your sweet release, I eagerly grasp,
Cumming on my tongue, your release is my power.

After my dinner, you’re placed on the couch,
Legs spread wide for my growing pride, no slouch,
Our moans unite with each thrust’s delight,
Your body shivers, shakes, feels just right,
As my mustang gallops deep into your tight.

Normally, you ask for pauses, but today,
You ask harder, deeper, do not stray,
As my body tenses for release so grand,
You clench tight, demanding it all with your hands,
“Do not pull out, not now, not today,” you command.

Even as my submissive, your voice guides me true,
Today, your clenching and begging break through,
My body pushes deeper, intense and bold,
Filling your garden with my essence untold,
My spent form collapses, yet you unfold.

You cover me with kisses, tender and warm,
In our post-orgasmic bliss, we weather the storm,
Some of me leaks out, rekindling the flame,
My throbs ask for more, in passion’s name,
You whisper, “Daddy, you promised pizza,” with a claim.

“Then we can have more for dessert,”
Our passion reignites, a joyful spurt,
Bound by desire and the moments we share,
We savor each touch, each breath of air,
In our dance of pleasure, beyond compare.