You’ve heard of PDA…
…which stands for Public Displays of Affection. In that vein, there should be something known as PDS as well. Three guesses what the S stands for??
As open as I am about my spanking fetish, I’ve always felt a little skeevy about public displays of it in vanilla settings. At a spanking party? Bring it. But on the street, in a store, etc.? I get embarrassed, I admit it. Which delights John to no end. I can’t tell you how many times he’s given me a smack or two in a public place, to which I hiss, “Don’t! There are PEOPLE!” He doesn’t seem to care about that. We’ve gotten snickers, whistles, and even “I saw that!” a couple of times.
This past weekend, we went to the grocery store to pick up a few items; three, to be exact. Because of that, John gleefully exclaimed, “Hey, self checkout!” And I groaned. I hate using the self checkout. Not because I’m lazy, but because it’s temperamental and glitchy. If you don’t do everything exactly right, very carefully, it freezes up and you get a “Checker has been notified” message. Well, crap, if you have to notify a checker, why use the damn thing in the first place? I can usually manage okay on my own, but John tends to rush in impatiently.
So we managed to get all three items scanned. I had put our grocery bag on the floor (if you put the bag in the “bagging area” before you scan any items, it screws up the system, because it thinks the bag is a grocery item you haven’t scanned yet), so I bent over to pick it up so I could put our stuff in it. And of course, you guessed it, John let fly with a loud smack to my butt. I jerked up to standing… just in time to hear the checker standing off to the side (watching for people who screw up the system, of course) call out, “Do it again!”
Oh, my freaking God. I sputtered and spluttered at John, while he stood there laughing his fool face off. Finally we got the transaction done and I started to hustle him out of there, but we had to walk by the oh-so-amused checker, who then grinned at us and asked, “Are you two newlyweds?”
“No!” I blurted, making a wry face and walking by… and then John fist-bumped him. He actually fist-bumped the guy.
I swear, I can’t take that man anywhere.