So I have a loving husband, a considerate man who hardly ever has a cross word for me, never took liberties, a kind gentle lover who'd never even think about treating me harshly and certainly never raise a hand to me. My loving woke hubby from well before woke was a thing, father to my kids, hard working provider.
That sort of maybe explains why I was secretly hanging out in online in chat rooms, chatting about spanking stories in my early forties. Mostly ones where one thing led to another so to speak. So I found a virtual online friend, name of Palmer. He seemed to like the mostly the same kind of stories albeit ones where the man was... very focused on doing things with more mature bottoms shall we say. Smart, educated. We talked, carefully, circuitously, we both had a partner and wouldn't do anything to change that but neither of us were getting that particular itch scratched albeit from different sides of the equation so to speak. So never going to happen right? No chance! Unless someone said something really fucking stupid like 'What if it was just a spanking? Not, you know, actual cheating?'
Someone stupid, yeah. Me.
Eventually after some hemming and hawing and back and forth on how, the by then almost inevitable happened. A not quite as indecent as it might have been rendezvous in the afternoon in a posh hotel room in London.
He had texted me the room number and I entered after he had time to settle. He was sitting in a large leather chair in the room, the only thing I could focus on.
He was, well I won't say exactly a gentleman but well dressed, confident and nicely spoken. I did note a slight smirk as I stood before him the first time. We'd discussed it online so there was, deliberately, little to say. With only a little more than some pleasantries I can't even remember I was standing before him, he was seated in the only chair in the hotel room as I undressed for a man, who wasn't my husband. Not something I could say had happened in the last twenty years or so! God it was shameful, humiliating and, yes, seriously exciting, as I stripped for him, heart racing. It wasn't a striptease, a bit beyond me at my age but a simple... well... submission. He gave that slight smirk again and patted his lap. I was inexplicably thrilled to be accepted by that simple gesture. A sort of little victory in my afternoon's... deliberate degradation.
Now I am sure that for many reading this, it's just coy tease and foreplay but that was my first time, even after fantasizing about it for years. It's hard to say just how I felt as I presented myself for him. Submitted to another man, a not quite stranger. Bum up in the air. My plump mature bottom on display and ready as I felt the warmth of his body as I lay over him, hands and feet on the floor, another little bite of exciting shame as I spread my legs to steady myself in what must have been a rather revealing move now I think back.
I had my second little victory as I heard a murmur of pleasure and felt his bare hand stroke my bare bum. Lingering caresses had not been discussed but god the thrill! My plump mature bottom having that affect!
'Lovely' he murmured as he started, with nothing more than gentle pat, to set my bum wobbling. Slowly he upped the force in his blows, hand cupped, the sound sending a shiver of shame though me as each clap on my arse set my body wobbling. Cheeks flushed, god so shameful. I swear I could smell my excitement.
At that point it was getting a little physically awkward. As it may be obvious I'm no longer a slim petite young thing and it became clear the position was not going to allow much in the way of a real spanking. I felt... so disappointed. It was going to end there.
