Longing

This weekend I ended up in a leather shop at a craft site on the Lowewood Go Wild In Wales trip. Leather shops are nice. I love the smell of leather. I love the feel of leather. And there I was talking about feeling it with my fingers, but I also love the feel of it on my butt cheeks as it hits home. This shop had the most wonderful selection of belts. Proper, beautiful leather belts, soft to the touch, and as I was staring at these things of beauty, and a not unfamiliar, but more recently somewhat unaccustomed longing came over me.
I longed to be bent over, waiting, and hear the sound of a belt buckle being undone. Hear the swish of the belt as it came out of trouser loops, the creak as it was doubled in half. The swish as it was tested. The crack as it landed. Again and again. It's very cliched, but I find a man taking off his belt and using it on me an incredible turn on. There's an impromtu-ness to it: I don't need implements, I don't need canes or paddles to use on you. I can still deal with you. Here's an implement I carry round with me all the time... yum.
I'm still longing, a day later, but now it's bedtime, so I might take my longing up to bed and see if I can't turn it into a nice little fantasy! Night all ;-)