The Slap [F4M] [Seattle]

*non-fiction*

We were having an argument and I was losing the fight. He was always more controlled, rational, and able to speak clearly and I was almost always very emotional and would cry during our arguments. He was taking me to task because he felt I had ignored him during dinner with his brand-new boss and colleagues. As I was attempting to walk away from him, as he was making a point about how I hadn’t been paying him enough attention, he grabbed my arm. He wanted to keep me from leaving the bedroom. He was pulling me towards him. Something overcame me and I reached up and slapped him in the face really hard. The slap made the loudest thud and it scared me. I had never slapped or been violent with him ever. EVER! We were both stunned, or so I thought.

After “the slap”—we called it for a long time; after. I started apologizing profusely, grabbing his hand, trying to hold it, and touching his face where I had slapped him. He was silent for a minute, then asked me to slap him again. I thought he was joking and trying to make light of the situation. I told him he wasn’t funny and that I was really sorry I lost my temper in that way. Again he asked me to slap him and I refused.

Later that evening- – – –

Getting ready for a soak in the bathtub, I undressed. I liked to soak in the bath after feeling stressed or anxious. He walked over to me and began to help me undress. Running his fingers across my lips and down the front of my neck to my collarbone, he knows how sensitive I am to soft touch and intentional kisses. He starts to massage my shoulders and neck while kissing me softly. Turning me around to unzip my dress, he kisses the back of my neck, planting soft kisses, and bites my shoulders. I start to relax more with each kiss and I turn around. I kiss him passionately and rub my hands across his firm pecks down his abs, then around to his firm round ass. He had been a semi-professional athlete and kept in good shape after losing his career to an injury.

As my tongue touched his, he whispered “I want you to slap me again. I loved it when you slapped me earlier today”. Knowing he would only continue pestering me about it, not to mention my curiosity about what would happen next, I struck him. It wasn’t as severe as the one I planted earlier, but none the less I hit him again. I ask him, “What is going on”? “Why are you asking me to slap you”? Is this some sort of kinky thing you’re into that you’re just now telling me about? He smiles and falls to his knees.

Source: reddit.com/r/sexystories/comments/rwviqy/the_slap_f4m_seattle

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