New Year's Spaning

The new years party had been surprisingly enjoyable. Christine had been dreading it, only attending when Jennifer, her closest friend since childhood, had kept nagging her until she agreed. She had thought that it was the last thing she needed. She really hadn't wanted to socialise in the two months since she had found her husband in bed with his secretary.

His secretary! Of all people! God, even his choice of mistress was boring! She could still hardly believe it had happened. Married life hadn't lived up to her childhood fantasies. She had been so confused since the breakup, fluctuating between relief that she was free of the awful dreariness of life with Simon and insecurity about what she would do now.

So she had gone to the party, telling herself that she would not think about Simon and that she would enjoy herself. That had been easier than she had expected, thanks to Andrew. Jennifer had introduced her to him, explaining that they worked together. Christine had discovered that she and Andrew shared an interest in writing, he had just published his first novel, and she indulged in a satisfying conversation about their mutual love.

Then she discovered that he could dance, when he invited her on to the floor. She found that moving to the music with his arms around her was distinctly pleasurable. Then she discovered that he lived in the same part of town as her, and she thought, well, maybe...

* * * * *

She closed the door behind her and smiled at him. "Would you like a drink?" She hadn't decided exactly what she wanted to do with him, only that she didn't want him to go yet. She thought he looked quite dashing in his dinner jacket. He was tall and craggily handsome, with hard grey eyes. He accepted the offer of a drink and they sat together on her sofa.

She began to cross her legs but Andrew reached out and stopped her by placing a hand firmly on her knee.

"Don't do that, Christine." he said.

She was stunned. "What?" she stuttered

"You have beautiful legs, Christine. I don't want you to hide them."

Part of her bridled at his tone while another loved the flattery. Another, secret part of her responded to the overtly sexual turn the conversation had just taken. A strong man who would stride into her life and take over was one of her fantasies. She could feel that familiar glow rising inside her.

His hand was still on her knee and she put her hand on his, meaning to lift it away. She didn't, though. She didn't want to break the physical contact.

"Are we going to make love?" she asked, surprising herself with her ability to match his frankness. He had only just begun, however.

"We can do whatever you want, Christine. I can kiss and massage every inch of your body. I can take you to bed or I can fuck you right here on the floor. I can bind you or put you across my knee and spank you."

"Spanking?" she stuttered. Of all he had said, that leaped out. Her heart raced faster. The masterful man of her fantasy would not have shirked spanking her if she displeased him,

He just smiled. He brought his hand up to her breast, using his thumb to circle her nipple through the material of her dress. Pleasure flooded through her. She knew now that she would let him do whatever he wanted with her.

He stood, drawing her up with him. His hands circled behind her, pulling her to him, capturing her mouth with his. As they kissed, his fingers found the zip at the back of her dress, then pushed it from her shoulders. He removed her bra to expose her large, round breasts and left her standing in front of him wearing nothing but her panties.

"You have gorgeous tits, Christine." He said, caressing them again. He pinched and tweaked her large brown nipples until they were hard and aching with pleasure. Then, without warning, he sat and pulled her down across his lap.

He pulled her panties down, baring her firm, round buttocks. She could feel his hard dick against her stomach. It felt enormous.

She wriggled on his lap, the sensible part of her brain screaming at her that this was crazy. He held her firm. His irregular breathing told her that he was as excited as she was. His hands moved over her bottom, parting her cheeks to expose her anus. He ran a single finger along the crease, over her anus and along the length of her pussy to her clit. She squirmed against him as he fingered her, loving the sensations.

Then he brought his other hand down sharply across her buttocks. She let out a little scream as heat spread across her bottom from the point where the blow landed. He rained slaps down on her cheeks as he continued to finger her clit. Her backside hurt like nothing she had ever felt before, contrasting sharply with the waves of electric which were coursing through her.

She felt her orgasm growing despite her attempts to protest at this treatment, attempts which emerged as incoherent squeals and groans. How was this happening to her? Why did it fell so amazingly good? She stopped wondering as she came noisily, her back arching, her face flushed, her bottom red and sore, her pussy soaking and hungry.

Andrew wasn't finished. He lifted her from his lap and laid her on the floor. She squirmed as her buttocks rubbed against the carpet and began to roll over. "No," he instructed, standing over her and beginning to remove his shirt to reveal his well muscled chest.. "I want you on your back. You do want to please me, don't you?"

She realised that she did. She had fantasised about this but had never dreamed that she would do it. She had been surprising herself all night and it had felt pretty good so far. After years of lacklustre sex, she decided that she wasn't going to waste this opportunity. And anyway the sensations caused by the rough carpet against her skin kept alive the feelings she had while she was across his lap. She definitely wanted that.

"Part your legs and raise your knees." He ordered, continuing to undress slowly. She did as she was told, the action pressing her tender bum into the carpet, reawakening the pain. She grimaced slightly.

"I want to watch you play with yourself, Christine."

Exhibitionism. Now there was something else she hadn't done. She was comfortable with her body but not so confident as to think that anyone would enjoy watching her. She found the obvious relish on Andrew's face as her fingers drifted towards her pussy as big a turn on as anything he had done to her. And that was saying something.

She ran her finger along the length of her vagina, then slid it inside her, keeping her eyes locked on his handsome face. He drank in the sight before him with evident hunger. He had removed his trousers by now to reveal a heavily bulging pair of boxer shorts. He slid these down from his waist, freeing his cock. From this angle, Christine thought, it looks enormous. She was suddenly desperate to find out if it felt as big inside her.

She decided to put on a little show to encourage him, grinding her pelvis down on to her finger as she fucked herself, again giving herself that wonderful contrast between the pain from her buttocks and the pleasure from her pussy. She used her other hand to play with her tits, pinching her nipples to make them stand invitingly.

Her ploy worked. He fell upon her, eager hands grasping at her body, his mouth kissing, licking, biting. She responded in kind, fingernails clawing at his back. Then, suddenly, he was in her, entering her with a single hard thrust. She let out a scream of delight.

He rode her hard, his weight forcing her into the floor. She received him eagerly, wrapping her legs around him, drawing him closer to her. He plunged and pumped and she matched the rhythm he set. His breathing became ragged as he prepared to let himself go.

Christine felt the sensation of her own orgasm rising from her toes, up the backs of her legs to her groin, mingling with the new sensations from her tender bottom. She totally abandoned herself as she came explosively, hearing his strangled snarl as he matched her.

She lay there on the floor with her eyes closed after he withdrew, until she became aware of his movement around the room. She looked up to see that he had already dressed. She was confused, wondering where on earth he was going. Her confusion showed on his face.

"I really can't stay."

Suddenly angry, she began to protest. How could he just leave?

He stopped her, knowing what was coming. "Don't expect me to apologise. You've just had the best fuck of your life, haven't you?" It wasn't really a question and she knew he was right. He crossed the room and knelt beside her, lowering his mouth next to her ear so that she could feel his warm breath on her skin.

He whispered, "Don't worry, your the best I've had as well. I can't wait for the next time."

"What next time?" she demanded, beginning to get up from her position on the floor.

He pressed her back down again, the pressure of his hand on her breastbone firm if not forceful. She could easily have resisted but found her will to do so drained from her by physical contact with him. She let out a sigh as he slid his hand across her flesh to clasp her breast.

"What next time?" he repeated with a slight smile. "I'll call you when I'm free." He stood and quickly walked from the room, not stopping to look back, leaving her naked on the floor, desperate for that phone call.