"I am going to break the paddle on your sexy backside," Taco says in a husky voice, hugging me tightly as I enter her new home for only my second visit.
She is naked underneath her bathrobe, her firm breasts and protruding nipples barely concealed by the thin fabric.
"Promise?" I giggle, feeling the temperature between my legs beginning to rise.
"After I sit on your face and fill your mouth with my sweet nectar," she continues in a whisper, her lips touching my ear and sending a thrill of goose-flesh all the way down to my toes.
"Oooh, Taco," I begin, "I love it when you talk dirt..."
She interrupts me abruptly with a passionate kiss, her hot tongue briefly challenging mine to a duel, each of us trying to suck the breath from the other.
She reaches her hands below my waist and lifts the hem of my skirt, fondling my yearning flesh through my cotton panties while grinding one thigh against my fully-awakened womanhood.
Our lips still locked together, she releases my backside with one hand at a time and allows her bathrobe to fall from her shoulders, then breaks our kiss with a seductive moan and lowers me to my knees, my face inches from her beautifully-shaven flower.
"Thirty seconds or thirty spanks?" she asks with a mischievous smirk, then whimpers softly as I part her labia with my eager tongue and kiss her engorged clitoris tenderly.
INTERLUDE:
She is making reference to one of our first meetings, back in college, when she was the president of a very prestigious sorority and I was a freshman pledging membership. The final step of initiation was to perform cunnilingus on her for thirty seconds, or bend over her naked lap for thirty spanks with a wooden paddle, while the rest of the sorority sisters watched, whistled, laughed, and made all manner of crude comments.
"On your knees or over mine," she said to each pledge finalist as we entered her room one at a time.
I chose the thirty spanks, with nary a notion of how much that simple decision would change both of our lives. I kicked my feet, screamed, sobbed and sniffled, cried my eyes out, and left a puddle of tears and the contents of my runny nose on the floor next to her feet as she paddled my tender backside to a deep shade of red. I was so turned on by the mixture of humiliation, pain, and pleasure, I masturbated lavishly in her bathroom with a shampoo bottle as soon as my initiation was complete.
It was days before I could sit comfortably, but my inner-spanko was awakened, and she and I got together regularly over the course of her last year of college for subsequent spanking and mutual-masturbation sessions.
My pet-name for her, "Taco," refers to the resemblance between her external female genitalia and the hard-shelled Mexican entrΓ©e, which I arrogantly pointed out, to the amusement of our audience, during our sorority initiation. She calls me "Ten" because I earned ten additional spanks every time I repeated that comparison, which was often.
While I am bringing you up to speed on our history, this might be a good time to tell you briefly about my first visit to Taco's new home, which, unlike today's session, was completely unplanned.
The text appeared as I was getting dressed for work: "My husband just left after a quick round of sloppy sex. The door is unlocked if you want to eat a fresh creampie."