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Quite a few important people to Celly asked me to complete this story. Here it is. Not only did I write it for them, but I wrote it in honour of the many women and men that have stories that beg to be completed on . I hope they find the courage to finish their tales.

***

Once Gaye and I drove home from our trip to Toronto, a flare of embarrassment overcame me. She had caught me in the act of self spanking not long ago and had offered to explore a more hands-on exploration of my desires if and when I was ready. Rachel and I had been friends since University. In the ensuing years after she married her University sweetheart, we had continued to have sex periodically and with the odd permission of her husband. Peculiar situation — I know — but a welcome one to Rachel and myself.

Rachel’s husband eventually confessed he was trading her in for a “younger model”. In their last conversation as man and wife, he even used that demeaning turn of phrase. She met Gaye and me in Toronto to ask to move back to Kitchener and live in the home she grew up in and we welcomed her back with open arms.

Rachel and I spent the night in our hotel room. I told Rachel all about Gaye’s discovery of my shameless actions and I confided in her my long time interest in spanking. To my surprise, Rachel offered to experiment with me. In the back of my mind, I wanted to resist my long time lover. I had virtually promised Gaye I would explore my carnal desires with her. My resistance to Rachel wasn’t very effective.

The walls of the hotel separating us from Gaye’s room were thin. Gaye had heard everything.

In the next week or so, I came home from work late at night after she had already fallen asleep. That was normal. In the past, Gaye had always left me notes for me to find near the coffee maker. Not one note was to be found the remainder of that week. I missed that endearing habit of my room mate. By the time the weekend came, I planned on leaving early Saturday morning to drive to Aurora to meet Rachel. She and I coordinated with the movers to get her meager possessions transported to Kitchener.

When we arrived home, Gaye wasn’t there. Rachel and I started unpacking and getting her settled in the home in which she grew up. There was plenty of room for the three of us. Rachel and I thought it best that we didn’t share a room, at least to begin with, and to allow Gaye some time to grow accustomed to the relationship between her daughter and her long time room mate. As we unpacked, we chatted about our new living arrangements and the subtle reactions of Gaye.

Rachel — “I think you’re reading too much into this, Celly. Mom probably just feels a little awkward about our relationship. She never would have guessed either one of us enjoyed the romantic company of women.”

Celly — “I know. I’ve always kept my sexual choices sheltered from her. I never wanted to broach that subject with Gaye. It’s not that your mom isn’t abundantly understanding and quite a hip woman at her age. She is!”

Rachel — “Give her time, Celly. I can’t believe she heard everything. I guess we probably should have thought about that, but in the heat of the moment I really wasn’t thinking about anyone hearing the two of us.”

Celly — “It’s easy to lose track of the obvious when you’re lying in bed naked with a sexy girl.”

Rachel — “Mom will come around. You and I both know that.”

Rachel and I prepared a dinner for Gaye. It was a welcome surprise. Gaye was always the cook at home so I thought we should take the opportunity to do so. While the finishing touches were coming to fruition, Rachel had slid in behind me at the stove. She cradled my body from behind. Rachel kissed me in the hollow of my neck as Gaye slinked into the kitchen. Clearing her throat, we both spun around with innocent looks on our faces. Gaye grinned like a Cheshire cat.

Rachel leapt into her mom’s arms. I could see the happiness in Gaye’s face as she leaned her head on her daughter’s shoulder. When their embrace was broken, Gaye invited me into her arms too. How could I resist her?

Celly — “I’ve missed you all week, Gaye.”

Gaye — “We’ve always lived on very different clocks, Celly. But I found myself missing you too.”

Celly — “We’ll have to make up for lost time, favoritest room mate ever. Rachel and I got settled in and decided it was our turn to cook.”

Gaye — “We’re taking turns now? This is sounding like a better arrangement by the minute.”

I studied Gaye’s face for signs of genuine belief in her last statement. I thought to myself that I should comfort myself with the fact that Gaye was a progressive woman and would come to accept Rachel and me in the life we were choosing for ourselves.

Dinner was delicious and Gaye commented that she’d enjoy if we cooked more often. We talked about Rachel’s room and how we wanted to decorate it. We spoke of Rachel’s plans for a job in Kitchener and how she thought she might want to start up her photography studio casino oyna which she had operated prior to getting married. We eventually all wandered into the living room to channel surf through 700 channels of television, discovering nothing of value to watch, and Rachel nodded off to sleep.

Looking over at Gaye relaxing beside me, I knew I had to confront the issue head on. I reached over and clicked the remote to turn off the tv.

Celly — “I think we need to talk Gaye.”

Gaye — “I was sort of expecting this, Celly.”

Celly — “I really have missed you all week.”

Gaye — “And I’ve missed you too, Celly. What’s wrong?”

Celly — “Strangely enough, I was going to ask you the same thing.”

Gaye — “Why would anything be wrong? I’m sharing a home with two of the most important people in my life. I’m a happy woman.”

Celly — “Things are a bit different now, aren’t they?”

Gaye — “Different as in new, yes, but not different in a negative way. You seem more concerned about my feelings than in your own, Celly.”

Celly — “You always leave me little notes in the morning, Gaye. I missed them all week.”

Gaye — “I know you did, Celly. I’m sorry about that.”

Celly — “I thought you were mad at me, Gaye.”

Gaye — “No Celly. I’m not mad at all.”

Celly — “Then what is it?”

Gaye — “It’s nothing sweetie.”

Celly — “Are you uncomfortable with me and Rachel? Thinking about us together like we are? I decided it was best if Rachel had her own room instead of our first instinct.”

Gaye — “Thank you for that, Celly. But I would have been fine if you slept in the same bed.”

Celly — “Really? Maybe I should move her into my room tomorrow.”

Gaye — “Hold your horses.”

Celly — “I was pulling your leg, Gaye.”

Gaye — “I know you were, sweetie. This will all take a little getting used to. A lot has happened in a few weeks, Celly. It’s a lot to process.”

Celly — “I was getting ready to tell you I was going to move out if I made you feel uncomfortable in your own home, Gaye.”

Gaye — “I’m not uncomfortable, Celly. Not at all. Push that thought out of your mind. There’s more to it than that.”

Celly — “Oh really. Fess up, Gaye.”

Gaye paused for a long moment. She glanced past me and reassured herself that Rachel was fast asleep. The soft murmurs of the curled up cutie confirmed her slumber.

Gaye — “Your relationship reminds of a very happy time a very long time ago. I fell in love with a woman when I was 19 — before I met Rachel’s father.”

Celly — “We’ve all got our secrets it seems, Gaye. What happened?”

Gaye — “She let me go. I think I may have been a fling. I never found out what happened to Fran. I’ve thought about her so much over the years, but then Rachel’s father came along. And Rachel became the light of my life after he passed away. I guess there never really has been a chance to dwell on lost loves.”

Celly — “Have you ever thought about looking for her?”

Gaye — “No Celly. Ancient history.”

There was a long pause in our conversation. I suppose my mind raced through the possibilities about investigating Gaye’s past loves and somehow tracking down this infamous Fran. Dismissing that, I pondered Gaye’s tentative love of another woman. Would she ever feel that way again? Did she still have those feelings residing deep in her heart?

Gaye — “You’ve got a mischievous look on your face, naughty girl. Don’t get any ideas. Or I’ll have to deal you — my way.”

Celly — “I’ll be good. I promise.”

Gaye — “Things were different back then. My parents never could have accepted Fran. Hell, society couldn’t have accepted the two of us being together. I probably couldn’t have accepted it, Celly. It’s probably best as water under the bridge.”

Celly — “Do you still feel that way about women, Gaye?”

Gaye — “I find myself looking at women, Celly. I’d be lying if I told you otherwise.”

Celly — “Interesting.”

Gaye — “Don’t you dare tell Rachel. I know you tell her everything, but promise me this is just between you and me.”

Celly — “Your secret is safe with me, Gaye.”

Gaye — “Celeste Lara Morgan. Promise me.”

Celly — “You have my word, Gaye.”

The evening wound down and we somehow got Rachel up to her bed. Both Gaye and I wished each other good night. My mind wouldn’t stop racing though. Plans were in motion in my head and I couldn’t sleep. I would keep my promise to Gaye and refrain from divulging her secret to her daughter, but I couldn’t have lived with myself if I didn’t push the envelope with Gaye’s past desires for women.

Months past and three of us became increasingly comfortable with one another. Occasionally, Gaye would catch us sneaking a kiss or a hug. Most of the time, we shielded her from the ordeal. I had never broken my promise to Gaye, but I continued to hatch a plan to bring the wildcat out of Gaye. I knew it hibernated deep within slot oyna her. I was going to lure it out into the wilderness.

For those that haven’t read other stories published by me here, Sensual Touch and its sequel introduced Sherry to my life. Rachel and I considered our relationship fairly convenient and casual. We both confided in each other when we met other women to share our sexual adventures. I will admit sometimes they intertwined, but it took a very long time to involve Sherry in both of our waking dreams. That’s another story I may tell.

Sherry made a bold suggestion after having met both Tara, my mother, and my room mate Gaye. She thought we should introduce the two of them. One Saturday, I decided to invite them both out to dinner with Rachel and myself. We all went to a wonderful little bistro on the banks of Victoria Park’s man made lake.

It was built onto a floating deck on the edge of this central town park. The cuisine was always delicious, sumptuous, and appealing. The live bands played jazz and wonderful mood music. The dance floor was readily used by couples to inject a little romantic spice to their lives. The booze flowed freely and lubricated the budding desires for your loved ones. I went there many times over the years and I often brought women there to get them in the mood.

This wasn’t about my seduction this time around. Over dinner, it became abundantly clear that Gaye and my mother Tara shared a lot of the same interests. Rachel and I started to feel a little left out as the two women spoke about their experiences of many years past. They shared many of the same hobbies. They had traveled in many of the same exotic places. Their husbands had been remarkably similar. Gaye and Tara were remarkably akin to one another.

I don’t think our mothers even noticed when Rachel and I slipped out of the boat house onto the outside veranda. Lighting a smoke and ordering another glass of wine for the two of us at the outdoor bar, Rachel and I indulged in a private moment just for ourselves. I suppose we probably drew some attention to ourselves, but we weren’t the first and certainly wouldn’t be the last couple — even two women — that got a little carried away in this romantic locale.

When Rachel and I returned inside, we were both taken aback when we saw our mothers gliding around the dance floor. They were both turning heads, but it was clear they were oblivious to the spectators — including their own daughters. Maybe Sherry was right after all.

Rachel and I excused ourselves and went home. We slipped into a bubblebath together. Hours went by and it became clear Gaye wasn’t going to be coming home that night. Rachel and I slept in the same bed that night. When we woke up the next morning, Gaye still hadn’t returned home.

Over breakfast, Rachel and I giggled about all the possibilities. Over the next few months, Gaye spent an inordinate amount of time at mother’s house. I have never once asked either of our mother’s about their relationship. Maybe one of them will tell us some day.

I still had unfinished business with Gaye. While I still spanked myself from time to time (and Rachel gladly pitched in), I knew Gaye and I needed to share that moment together. I never would have suspected how it would finally happen.

I never share my birthday with anybody. Nobody knows when it is. Almost nobody that is. My mother being a noted exception.

One night, I came home to a dark home. Coming inside, I hung my coat up in the front closet. When I wandered into the living room, the lights suddenly came on. Many of my friends jumped out from their hiding places. Scanning the room, I feigned a nasty glare at my mother. She just giggled away and approached me giving me a big hug.

Despite my desire to avoid such a party, I ended up having a really fun time. This next bit will have me spellbound for the rest of my life. I’m still not sure if Gaye told my mother about my fantasies. Somehow I doubt she did but I will never really know.

Tara — “I can’t believe my little girl is more than a third of century old. She wouldn’t ever let me tell anybody about her birthday. I thought it was about time we forced a birthday custom on her.”

Celly — “Thanks mom. I guess I had to give in sooner or later.”

Tara — “Somebody special to you and to me thought it had to happen sooner. And speaking of birthday customs, there’s a certain custom of birthday spankings we had best attend to right now.”

I must have turned pale as a klansmen’s cloak. I felt faint. My knees were weak. Was my mother suggesting I, at 34 years of age, get a birthday spanking? In front of virtually everyone I knew? The shame of it overwhelmed me. And I’ll admit I felt a dampness between my thighs. My whole body was shivering in anticipation. I probably didn’t have a say in the matter once all my friends were cheering along.

Tara — “I don’t think we’ll let everyone get a turn in the birthday tradition, Celly. Maybe you have to choose one canlı casino siteleri special person to enact this privilege.”

Who would I choose? My mother? Oh my god, no. She hadn’t even spanked me growing up. Any of my friends? How could I ever face any of them even if I had dreamed about a few of them doing so? Rachel? I was tempted. But then I looked upon Gaye’s face. She knew what I was thinking. She knew how I felt in this arousing moment. She knew how this was making my engine purr.

I sauntered across the room with a grin on my face. I took Gaye’s hand. A host of laughs and giggles filled the air as Gaye pulled me over her lap. After all of these suspenseful months, I never would have thought it would have ended up like this.

Gaye’s hand was surprisingly strong. I suspect she went easy on me to spare my dignity. Her hand ran over my jean clad bum several times and ventured for a gentle squeeze several times. Blushing a bright pink hue in my cheeks, I closed my eyes. Despite the audience, I felt completely at home over Gaye’s lap. I wish I had surrendered to her whims long before now.

As I felt her hand leave my bottom, I squirmed in her lap. Wiggling my hips caused my jean clad pussy to rub in her lap. I felt a sudden spur of adrenaline rush through my body as my clit rubbed against the denim. I held on tight to the legs of the chair beneath us. I’m sure my knuckles were white as I clamped onto the wooden pedestal.

I could hear the chants of my friends and my mother as the first slap fell on my waiting bottom. The sting was sudden and I could feel the imprint of her firm hand through my jeans and my skimpy thong panties. If I had been bare, the sound would have filled the room. Suddenly, I wanted to be bare bottomed — or entirely naked — over Gaye’s lap.

Gaye didn’t spank me quickly. She let the sensations of each slap seep into me. She almost sealed in the heat of the stings inside of my tight jeans. Her fingers spread over my bottom. With each strike, she would change cheeks to ensure every surface would be covered.

The warmth of each stroke lingered just under my skin. The heat crawled just under the surface of my skin. I felt that inferno spreading and inching its way down to my pussy. With my eyes closed, I continued to wriggle in Gaye’s lap.

With that, she raised one leg and placed it over both of mine. Securing me in place, she seemed like a professional. I wondered for a moment if she had spanked Rachel growing up. Rachel and I hadn’t talked about that, but suddenly the image was getting me all hot and bothered.

Three sudden hammerfalls of Gaye’s merciless hand rained down on my bum. Whimpers escaped my lips. I felt myself stir in her lap as my pussy rubbed into Gaye with the rhythm of her treatment. After a few more slaps in consecutive and rapid succession, I’m certain I was moaning and revealing to my loved ones just how much I was enjoying this custom.

When Gaye asked my mother Tara to pass her purse, my mind raced. Laughs filled the room when Gaye explained to the partygoers that my last five birthday spankings would be with her wooden hairbrush. My pussy was dripping. I could have cum right then and there. I needed to cum.

I felt the flat back of the brush press up against my already warm bottom. Gaye let that brush press against every contour of my spongy bum cheeks. She let the brush roam from my upper thighs up over the bubble of my bottom to the base of my spine. I whimpered.

Perhaps to spare me any further shame, Gaye let loose her fires, her furies, and her ferocious yearning of the flesh with a volley of smacks. I clenched my cheeks and squealed with abandon as she rained down the last five warranted spankings.

I think I remained over her lap for quite some time. Eventually, she lifted me up. I peered down upon Gaye and immediately grinned. Straddling her lap where she sat, I took her into my arms and gave her a big hug. Kissing her on the crown of her head, I knew her face was pressed right into my ample breasts. Finally letting her breath, I let her go and got up off her lap. After thanking her, the party continued. Nobody talked about the birthday spanking for the rest of the night, but plenty of looks assured me I was a bit of a spectacle.

Everyone left after several hours of carousing and imbibing. Eventually, it was just Rachel, Gaye, and me. We cleaned up a little, but then decided to leave it all for the next day.

Rachel — “That was quite the show earlier. Looked like you both had a lot of fun.”

Celly — “I hope I came off as a good sport.”

Gaye — “You most certainly did, Celly.”

Celly — “I hope I didn’t make a fool of myself.”

Gaye — “I don’t think so, Celly. Do you think so, Rach?”

Rachel — “You and I both know she could have taken a lot more.”

Gaye — “I imagine she can and that she does from time to time. I would have liked to given her more.”

Rachel — “Well, there’s always next birthday. Look forward to it. Next time it’s 35 times.”

Gaye paused a moment contemplating something.

Gaye — “Hmmm. You know what. Celly has never gotten a birthday spanking before. She’s really missed out on the tradition until now.”

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