Annie tidied up the kitchen, after putting a casserole in the oven, and waited for Paul to arrive home from work. The windows in the kitchen were wide open to allow the fresh air of the late summer evening to fill the house. Fall would be arriving in a few short weeks.

No sooner had Annie finished drying her hands than she heard a loud voice outside her kitchen window. “Angela!” The voice called sharply. Annie stood on tiptoes peering out the kitchen window overlooking the street. Ms. Robinson was striding with determination up the street. “Get home right now young lady or you’re gonna get a lickin’, I’ve been calling you for fifteen minutes!” Annie smiled as a young girl about nine or ten years old raced quickly by on her bicycle. She couldn’t recall the last time she had seen anyone ride a bike so fast, it was obviously done in an effort to avoid getting a “lickin’”.

Annie leaned back against the counter in the kitchen, feeling a moist sensation begin to flow between her legs accompanied by a nice warm tingling. Whenever she heard the word “spanking” or any variation thereof, it immediately made her wet, and had done for as long as she could remember. She began to wonder how embarrassing it must be for a young girl to be threatened with getting a “lickin’” in front of her friends or for that matter the entire neighborhood. She also began to wonder what a “lickin’” might consist of and if it would involve a hand, paddle, belt, or one of the standard kitchen implements popular among parents who spanked their children. The more she thought about it, the stronger the warm tingling sensation became.

Paul sauntered in from work, interrupting her thoughts. He took her in his arms embracing her warmly, glad to finally be home. He hated his job with a passion and some days it felt like forever to him before he would have a chance to be with her again. The smell of her hair or simply looking at her beautiful face was enough to make him aroused. “Mmm, something smells yummy” he said opening the oven a crack to peek inside at the casserole.

Annie’s thoughts reverted back to Ms. Robinson and her “you’re going to get a lickin’” statement. Paul noticed her far off expression and laughed with curiosity. “What are you thinking about?” He asked.

Oh if he only knew, if she could only find a way to tell him. She had wanted to tell him a thousand times, but every time she began, the words failed her. How could she explain to him that every time they made love she was only able to get aroused by thinking of spanking? What would she do if he rejected her because of it, or maybe even worse laughed at her? Every time she thought of telling him, she couldn’t form the words, and it bothered her that this “thing about spanking” was between them. They were open and honest about nearly everything else.

They sat down to eat and Paul was counting the seconds until he could get her alone in the bedroom and ravage every inch of her body. “You know—“ She began, but wasn’t sure how to continue.

“What is it?” He asked curiously.

“Ms. Robinson was yelling at her daughter earlier about giving her a lickin’” she mused, hurrying with her words, unsure where to go from there.

“Oh really” Paul said with raised eyebrows. “Do you suppose she gave her a lickin?” He asked with a laugh.

Annie shrugged, “I don’t know, I’m not even sure why I brought it up.” She really couldn’t find a way to tell him. Annie had only been spanked one time in her life that she could remember, and it was when she had been only seven years old and had attempted to make playdough. She had made a huge mess in the kitchen, spilling flour and other ingredients everywhere. Her mother had been livid and immediately pulled out a kitchen chair, sat down in it, and took Annie over her knee, slapping her bottom vigorously while Annie cried and squirmed in protest.

That night as they both got ready for bed, Paul gave Annie the look she knew so well which meant he wanted her. She was more than willing to make love with Paul, especially since she was already wet from thinking about spanking all evening.

Annie had never really been contrary her entire life. She was a delight to be around and almost everyone enjoyed her. But it was times tonight when Annie wished she had it in her to be bratty, and then maybe then Paul would get fed up and take her over his knee and smack her a few times before they made love. If only she could tell him what she wanted.

Paul enjoyed it when Annie was on top, so that he could look into her eyes and play with her breasts, tweaking her nipples from time to time. Paul began to rub against her clit as she rode him, and her mind filled with images of being spanked by a stern Ms. Robinson, or her husband the surely football coach. Annie thought of the anticipation of the first smack to her bare bottom and suddenly climaxed, Paul’s release was not far behind. Afterwards they lay in each others arms falling peacefully and contentedly asleep.

****

Annie went to work early every day and was often home by three in the afternoon at the latest. She usually found something industrious to do each day before Paul arrived home from work at six in the evening. Today she went out and weeded the flower bed, breathing in the fresh cool air. She soon realized her thoughts were not on weeds or flowers, instead she kept thinking about Ms. Robinson and the “you’re going to get a lickin’” phrase that repeated over and over again in her thoughts. Finally she couldn’t stand it any longer. She was dripping wet and so aroused she couldn’t pull another weed. She took off her gardening gloves, and laying them aside quickly went inside the house and up the stairs to her bedroom where she lay down on the bed and immediately lowered her shorts and began rubbing her clit.

Over and over in her mind were images of spanking, bare bottoms being smacked, her bare bottom being smacked. It didn’t take long for her to explode into a climax and shudder with ecstasy. As she lay there thinking how good it felt to get that release, she suddenly had a wicked idea, at least for someone like Annie it was wicked. She reached back and slapped her bottom a few times, trying to imagine what it must be like to be spanked. She closed her eyes and pictured herself being told she was going to be spanked, then smacked herself as hard as she could.

She thought of the order to pull down her pants and panties, and she quickly slipped off her pants and panties, touching her clit tenderly, and then smacking her bottom as hard as she could. It didn’t take long for her to once again to reach a climax. As the shudders ran through her, she sighed long and hard. The feel of getting spanked was strong within her, and although her playing satisfied her briefly, it was not what she craved. She wanted a real spanking.

Her afternoons began to turn into private spanking fantasy time for her. She began to enjoy her afternoons alone. When she became tired of thinking about Ms. Robinson, she thought of another experience that seemed etched in her mind. She had been boating with her friend Danielle when she was thirteen years old, and she recalled Danielle being defiant with her father, who ended up giving Danielle a warning look followed by the threat “you’re not too big for me to spank you and you know it, so stop it.” Danielle had turned six shades of red, but had immediately stopped misbehaving. Annie knew Danielle got spanked and when she could get her friend to discuss it, Danielle recounted her spankings. Annie clung to those, envisioning Danielle’s dad taking her over his knee along with Danielle and spanking them both for some misdeed or another.

Over and over the idea of getting spanked was in Annie’s mind, and she wished often she could remember what it felt like when she had been seven years old and spanked by her own mother.

Paul noticed some distance growing between them, and although he and Annie still made love frequently, it seemed to Paul that Annie didn’t enjoy it as much as she once had. He had no idea about her long afternoons of fantasy masturbation. Annie was always careful to complete her masturbations and self-spanking before Paul got home.

She was deeply involved one afternoon in her fantasy of being spanked and in the process of smacking her bottom with the flat side of a hairbrush, as she eagerly rubbed her clit and bottom in between, and she had no idea Paul had come home early and was hiding in the hallway watching her every move.

At first Paul was shocked, then deeply aroused as he watched her go through her little ritual. Seeing her spank herself and then masturbate made him hard as a rock, and he couldn’t help himself, he unzipped his pants and caressed his hard member as he watched her, struggling to hold back the noise as he felt himself release and shudder, spurting cum all over the carpeting in front of him.

Annie rolled over and looked up in horror to see Paul standing in the hallway with his dick hanging out of his pants. She jumped up out of bed and nervously began to put her clothes on, while Paul put himself back inside his pants.

“W-what are you doing home so early?” She asked sheepishly.

“I quit my job today” he said quietly.

“Oh” Annie said smoothing out her hair nervously.

“You should have told me Annie” he said quietly.

She was worried he would be angry with her, or at least annoyed. “Um told you what?” She said quietly, and she froze as he walked towards her and spun her around peeking down her shorts and panties at her slightly reddened bottom. “Told me you liked to be spanked” he said in a husky voice.

Annie was lost for words, unsure what to say next. Paul turned her around and began to kiss her passionately. She felt ashamed of her behavior and hot tears stung the corner of her eyes momentarily from the embarrassment of being caught “in the act.” And then there was the embarrassment of him looking at her red bottom.

She tried to talk, but he covered her mouth with kisses. Then it happened, he sat on the edge of the bed and took her by her wrist. “You don’t need to be embarrassed.” He said softly. “I’ve always wondered why you seem a million miles away when we’re making love. If you only would have told me sooner, I was beginning to think you didn’t love me anymore.”

She was lost for words, how on earth could he feel she didn’t love him. It wasn’t even possible.

He gently pulled her over his knee, sliding down her shorts and panties once again. He began to slap each one of her already pink cheeks with his open hand, starting out slow and increasing in his intensity. Annie was in seventh heaven and although it hurt more than she thought it would, she loved every minute of it as her fantasies meshed with her reality. She was dripping wet and Paul couldn’t remember ever seeing her so aroused.

 

Paul had cum only moments before while he was watching her from the hallway and there was no way he was anywhere near ready for another climax.  Instead, he made this about Annie.  He pulled her shorts off and pushed her down on her back on the bed, with her legs dangling over the edge.  He knelt in front of her and placed his warm mouth on her tender pussy, working his tongue expertly among the folds of her pussy.  It didn't take long for her sweet juices to flow into his mouth and he thrilled as she shuddered and made loud moans.  When the passion subsided he held her in his arms.  They both knew this was going to open up a whole knew world for them. 

 

 

~*~