Inapropos Trois Faux Pas Jokingly Blurted Out

Inapropos trois faux pas jokingly blurted out... yesterday August 30th, 2022. The following fictitious account predicated upon words spilling out me mouth before taking time to think through how sarcastic remark would affect primary listener. Comments about marital matters particularly ours (yours truly and wife) uttered in earshot of the missus in company of a fellow resident who befriended us; hours later, she gave me a severe dressing down in tandem with threatening smacking mine gluteus maximus (ultimatum never carried out) viz yule eyes zing painful spanking for uttering (even in jest) unseemly unreasonable remark. As iterated above, she gave me a verbal lashing unfurling unpleasant feedback accompanied courtesy expressing whooping tushy of her spouse, which turned out as idle threat, nevertheless verbalized black barbs vicariously pounded mine posterior... courtesy forced punishment qua virtual reality zealously, viciously, quickly... causing actual percussive rumpus. Meanwhile vibrations resonated felt and heard round the world wide web strongest quaking sensations occurred upon double mattresses atop bed within apartment unit b44 2 Highland Manor Drive, but woody d'ya believe drumming, and whipping hindquarters spurred surging aftershock tremors launched rocketed dormant pecker (no fallacy - property yours truly). Imagine slap happy counterpart, she ain't misbehavin just being her playful (think cheeky) self knick knack paddy whacking undeservedly thrashing, pummeling, humiliating, beating the living daylights buttucks long past their prime formerly cute palm pilot buttocks, now subjected simulated heavy handed wallops upon derrière, which cruel aging process wrought ugly human cellulite, nevertheless I made feeble attempts to rear up in protest against asinine wifely antics, while she obviously disregarded feebly wailing for nought grammarian lamely uttering friggin bloody murder in vain. Zee figurative ball and chain ain't no sadomasochist, she just thrills treating gluteus maximus (mine) as a plaything (think cat toying with mouse) thwacking me fleshy behind until derriere belonging to yours truly felt comfortably numb. Even a** hide from aforementioned scenario the aforementioned shenanigans predominantly arose, when wedded counterpart owns advantage, whereby I eagerly welcome shut eye lo and behold only to experience mine hinny quickly getting smacked after I barely shuttered these tired eyelids sneaking couple winks. What recently began as whimsical spur of kickstarting moment ushering tactile kibitizing suddenly became nightly ritual, whereby this humble husband meekly surrenders bare bottom (actually partner with skewed enjoyment at my expense) pulls off outer clothes plus underpants (elasticity long since stretched out) wallopping me bum until flesh heavily bruised.