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The weather is getting cooler...time to take that pleated heather blue plaid skirt out of the closet...and the crisp white cotton blouse, with the Peter Pan collar. The outfit is completed with a pair of navy blue knee socks, white cotton panties, and shiny cordovan leather penny loafers.
I try it all on for effect, gazing at myself in the mirror. I brush my long wavy black hair up onto the top of my head, and band it into a ponytail. Yes, it is a 43-year old woman in the mirror, but the eyes that look back at me are those of an apprehensive schoolgirl, whose misdeeds have gotten her into a predicament this afternoon...she is awaiting her spanking.
He told me to get myself into his "office" and wait for him, standing in the corner. I hear his footsteps in the hall and take one last glance at myself in the glass...anxiously, I wonder if I look ridiculous, with my full hips and swelling breasts straining against the thin cotton fabric of my little-girl blouse. No time to wonder..I scoot into the corner, just in time, as the door swings open.
"Excellent," he says, coming up behind me. He gives my ponytail a playful swat, so that it swings back and forth. Delicately he lifts the hem of my skirt and tucks it neatly into the waistband, giving my bottom a pat over my white cotton full-cut panties. He walks away then, arranging the spanking chair in the center of the room, setting up the scene as deliberately as any artist who puts a paintbrush to canvas.
"Turn around, now, Michele, and come to me."
I obey, so very aware of the bareness of my legs in back as I walk to him. I stare at his lap as I walk. It is my destination, my haven. He understands this so well, and pats his lap invitingly.
"You've been a bad girl, Michele, and the only place for you is across my knees. I've tried reasoning with you, pointing out the error of your ways, but when all is said and done, the only thing you seem to understand is a red bottom! After I've reddened your bare bottom, you're going to thank me like you always do, first with words, then with those sweet lips wrapped around my cock. Do we understand each other, Michele?"
"Yes, Sir," I answer softly, and without being asked again, I lay myself across his lap. Deliberately I press myself against his stiff cock, as I wiggle into spanking position. Experience has taught me that the more I tease him, the harder he will spank me.
"So naughty, Michele," he murmurs, as I arch my round bottom up towards him. "You just love it when I take your panties down, don't you?" And obligingly, as usual, he lowers them to my knees. I'm a bad girl, I think to myself feverishly, as I rub my now bare pussy against his erection. The crotch of his pants will be saturated with my juices by the time this spanking is over. He slides a finger into my vagina, then plunges it in and out, finally withdrawing his hand, knowing how very much I need my spanking now.
How I love it when his big hand cracks across my bare ass, making it jiggle and sting. He knows just what to say...how bad I am...how red my ass will be...how sore I will be later when I try to sit. Each stinging slap is accompanied by the teasing kind of humiliation that ignites me, that makes every spanking so delicious, and keeps me anticipating the next one. Of course he pushes up against me with his hard cock, knowing it will set my mind to thinking about how I will pleasure him. His cock is my weakness, you see, and he knows it. I can neither feel it nor see it without wanting it to fill my mouth.
When my bottom is hot to his touch, he sends the naughty schoolgirl to fetch the wooden ruler, the thick one, 18" long. I know the rules...I must hold my skirt up and leave my panties down for the journey to the desk drawer, where the ruler is kept. Then it is a return trip over his lap, bare bottom presented for a blistering session. No matter how many times I have felt it, the first kiss of the ruler is always a shock, it stings so. With my eyes closed, I can envision my bottom, striped all over, in shades of pink and red. He spanks me so thoroughly, both my soft bottom and my smooth thighs, and even though he is longing for my lips on his cock, he contains his desire long enough to direct me back into the corner, where I must remain in disgrace, bending over so my bottom is prominently displayed.
After what seems an eternity, his voice, from across the room. "Ready to thank me now, Michele?"
I am so vulnerable, so exposed, and it is so difficult to do as he asks. But it is what we both need, what is required for this to be complete.
I turn around and gaze into his eyes. "Thank you for my spanking, Sir."
He nods. "On your knees now, Michele, to show me your gratitude."
He stands in front of me as I kneel in the corner, his erection ready to burst out of his trousers. Which of us is more vulnerable now, I wonder, almost maternal in my desire to care for his cock. I put my hands to his zipper and hesitate.
I look up at him..."May I, Sir?"
"Yes, Michele, you may," he responds, his voice wavering, no longer in such rigid control. I know how much he needs this, and his need is mine as well. I waste no time in unzipping him and taking his cock into my eager mouth.
How I love it...this connection, this oneness as I suckle him. No matter how the game starts, this is how it will always end, with his cock sliding along my tongue, filling me as he tenderly strokes my hair. His cock is swollen and insistent, plunging ever deeper, as he works his hips back and forth. I have to remind myself to breathe, so occupied am I with the sensation of his stiff manhood banging into my throat. No matter how many times it happens, when he comes in my mouth, it always feels like the first time, as though everything in my life has been building towards this moment.
He shudders, his cock explodes, and I swallow him gratefully. My eyes fill with the first tears of the afternoon as I gently milk him. From miles away, I hear him pronounce my name...nothing on earth could be better than this