on being a grown-up

I spent Christmas this year with my partners and family of choice. My parents have just moved overseas (which makes it slightly easier to have a porn career, I'll admit), and while I'd normally want to spend Christmas with my lovely brother and sister-in-law, this year their filial duty required that they visit her family. My sister-in-law is practically my sister, and I love her to bits. I was sorry not to be able to spend the day with them, and as soon as my first glass of champagne was poured on Christmas morning I phoned them up to wish them merry Christmas.

We gossiped for ages, and I chatted about how weird it was not having my mum and dad around. But it was balanced out by how awesome a time I was having, sharing Christmas just with friends and lovers. "I mean, we could have sex on Christmas day and everything!" I exclaimed, "it's a complete novelty!" My sister agreed enthusiastically, saying that this was exactly why she and my brother had gone on a dirty weekend just before Christmas.

Of course, because this is us, my Doms and I didn't just have Christmas sex. I was the happy recipient of two Christmas spankings this year, one from each of them. My sister isn't quite close enough to want to know about them in detail, but hey, that's why I have a blog.

For D, I wore a figure-hugging minidress in festive red, fully-fashioned stockings, and my new Christmas shoes. I'd made him and Tom stockings this year as a surprise, traditional red velvet with white fur trim like the ones my mum made for me when I was little.

After D. had opened all his presents I was fooling around wearing the empty stocking on one foot, and making bad puns about being a stocking filler.

"Go on then," he quipped, expecting me not to have brought stockings with me, but I had. I'm good like that, me. So I grinned and nipped next door and got dressed up, and he sat down on the corner of the bed and he tied my red ribbon around my neck, the one that I wear to remind me I'm his. It matched the dress and made me feel like a present ready to be unwrapped. Then he kissed me and pulled me over his lap, and gave me a firm and sensual spanking that pressed all my buttons and made me more than ready for the fucking he then gave me, with my reddened bum lifted for him and my face pressed into the bed.

Yum.

I saw Tom the next day, and we had langourous morning sex with the sunlight spilling into his room - giving his bed, with its white cotton sheets, a profound sense of peacefulness. This we proceeded to thoroughly disturb with a slow, hard over-the-knee spanking that had me moaning. Every other stroke he paused to rub my tingling cheeks, and I clung to his thigh and wriggled in delight.

No edgy play, no implements, no scene formalities. (No santa hats, either, despite the photo.) Neither of them sought to push me and the mood was joyful, celebratory. I may even have laughed with delight, inbetween yelps. It was simple and loving and perfect.

If this is what being a grown-up means, I'm all in favour.