Not Just a Spaning

Following our first rendezvous I went back online the next day somewhere between excitement and trepidation. Palmer, a gentlemanly pervert if not an actual gentleman, had already left me a sweet message. It was a thank you, telling me how much he had enjoyed meeting me in person. Almost as if it had been a date, rather than, well, whatever the hell you'd call what we had going on. It finished with a clear ask that had my heart thumping:

"Did you want to talk about doing it again? I'd enjoy that very much but would like to know how you felt and what we might change in our arrangement if anything."

I did not, by dint of great effort, reply immediately with a hell yes please do whatever you want with me. I did have to delete draft replies along those lines several times though. Having given in and indulged ourselves I found I wanted, needed this, too much to drive him away and even then I still did not want to actually cheat on my hubby. At least not when I was thinking a little more clearly. I admit that in the heat of the moment I would have not only let him but enthusiastically responded. I knew I should say that we had both had our fantasy moment and that we should now move on before getting swept away. Like mature adults. Fat chance!

So I told him pretty much that. I also wanted to do it again, I knew it wasn't sensible so would understand if not, but if he did, what did he want to change if anything in the arrangement?

He responded surprisingly quickly, perhaps I wasn't the only one more eager than we admitted?

" 'The Arrangement'? Oh I like that! Yes I would love to continue 'The Arrangement' and keep to the way we agreed but I was thinking that we should probably go to the end position we finished on to start as that seemed to work best and I would like to add in a little something extra. I did not know if you would like to discuss in detail or be surprised, nothing terrible I promise and we will always play safe and stick to the... restrictions on contact!"

After a few attempts complete with mild swearing at myself, I went back with :

"So we have 'The Arrangement' then! I should undress and be on all fours to start our... session then each time? In the circumstances as long as we play safe and consensual then I think I can live with a little surprise! Shall we say a monthly rendezvous?"

So yeah I was giving in easy I guess, if that's the term for wanting rather more but going for the pre-emptive close of a regular spanking and whatever the surprise was. We went back and forth a little to align on the details of The Arrangement that had now acquired capitals! I would come to his hotel room, undress and get on all fours to present my behind for him to spank. For some reason it turned me on massively to agree to submitting like that without speaking. We would not cheat on our partners and he could add a twist or two but we would play subject to my safe word. I chose beehive. No idea why.

Having booked up our next date for 'The Arrangement', my near but not quite infidelity, I went downstairs and surprised my hubby with absolutely the best most enthusiastic guilt driven blow job I could manage that he had ever received. I wore him out so much he was left sleeping and I was left wondering which one I wanted to spank me the most and how the fuck I was going to get an orgasm out of it!

By the time the next rendezvous came round I was about as excited as I'd ever been and about as nervous. I'd decided I could add a little surprise or two as well and I was busy second guessing myself as a result. I hopped into the toilets in the foyer before going up in the lift, trying to get in one alone as I'd adjusted my outfit at the last minute.

So I was trembling more than a little as I presented myself to him. I had thought it through a little more this time, my confidence much improved. So I slowly unbuttoned my blouse in front of him. He was seated and so at the perfect height to appreciate my lacy bra. I leant forwards giving him the best view of my ample assets as I unhooked it letting it fall to the floor. My skirt was a simple side fastening affair that dropped easily to the floor leaving me in high heels, stockings suspenders and nothing else revealing my freshly shaved mons. Despite my flagrant and forward and not quite as agreed outfit I found myself blushing after all at his frank stare so I stepped out of the pile of clothes and knelt down on all fours, face to one side as I presented my bottom gift wrapped in suspenders. It's been a long time since I had any claim to the word pert but I am pretty sure he wouldn't mind. I bent the rules a little more:

"I hope you approve... sir?"

"Oh I very much approve although such naughtiness brings its own rewards as I am sure you will appreciate!"

I gulped at that "Yes Sir."

Palmer rose and walked over, picking up something from the side table as he did so. He walked around me, starting from behind me, until he stood in

front of me, tapping of all things a riding crop in his hands. I must have made a noise or something and I am sure my eyes went wide as he immediately spoke up.

"Don't worry, its more just for the odd nudge, I much prefer my hand for the main event! I won't use this on your delightful bottom without extreme provocation!"

I licked my lips a little nervously, not exactly reassured only to let out a moan as he slid the tip over my back.

He tapped it gently on the small of my back.

"Arch your back a little more!" he ordered.

As I obeyed, with a gratuitous wiggle of my own, I felt the tip trace down the line of my garter belt, almost caressing my bum before sliding between my thighs. He tapped the inside of my right thigh.

"Spread your legs a little more!"

Feeling ever so wanton I obeyed, cheeks flushed, well aware just how much he had now put me on display and I the willing toy. Bastard! He was using the riding to crop to tease and caress me whilst keeping to the letter of our agreement. As if he was reading my mind the tip of the crop stroked the side of my body and down to just touch the tip of my hanging breasts eliciting a quiet gasp from me, leaving me panting.

Slowly he walked back around me until he was facing my up thrust bum, tip of the riding crop stroking over my back and bottom as he moved. I could only imagine the view and found myself hoping it was a sexy as it felt. I moved my hips in a small circle trying to get in some of my own teasing in vengeance.

He tapped my bottom lightly with the tip of the crop chuckling. As I let out a gasp he slid the crop over my bottom and between my legs, resting on my bare shaved pussy. I held my breath almost shaking as he flicked the flat tip of the riding crop against my bare sex. It felt... electrifying, jolting through me, leaving me trembling face into the plush carpet panting. I am sure I made some sound but no idea what. God it turned me on.

'Oh yes I think that matches your naughtiness very well!'

He must have put the crop down as next I felt his hand on my bottom, him kneeling beside me.

He stared to spank, gently, at first raising no more than a wobble, covering across both cheeks of my arse. Each spank elicited a moan as he slowly spanked harder, sounding loud in the room as the impact slowly spread up my body until each spank was making my heavy breasts sway and stinging my bum.

I soon had my face pressed into the carpet, stifling my moans, excitement, shame and yes some pain creating a mind numbing level of arousal. My position meant every loud spank sent my breasts wobbling brushing my nipples against the carpet, bum pushed up, back arched, legs spread. All decked out in erotic stockings and suspenders.

As the spanking slowly slowed and his hand was left stroking my surely red blushed stinging bottom it was all i could do to push my face in the thick carpet of the posh hotel and not scream with frustration as he gently stroked my bare bum with a strong gentle hand. I am pretty sure there was at least a hint of a squeeze on my excited bum cheeks.

'Thank you lovely' he said as he brushed his lips over my bum cheeks. He sounded a tad breathless himself.

I kept my face hidden as I heard him rise and collect himself and that damned riding crop. I quite literally bit the carpet, hands clenched into the rug pile until I heard the door click and I was free to plunge my fingers into my shaved pussy, body bucking like a deranged teenager. All I could think about was that damned riding crop flicking against my clit as I frigged myself, moaning all the time into the carpet.

Eventually I must have slowed, climax, or more receding leaving me gasping as sanity slowly returned.

I was pretty sure at some point I would have to manage extreme provocation as all I could think about was how much that riding crop was gonna hurt one day ... and I was so fucking wet at the thought. Is that slutty or perverted? Both? If I couldn't get fucked, I'd get abused? Maybe I could get him to spank my pussy?

I curled up in a tight ball on the floor of that hotel room for some while before cleaning up in the bathroom and staggering home, mind a confused whirlwind of masochistic thoughts.

That night I had hubby on his back, did my damned best to deep throat him, something I'd never quite managed, before riding him to orgasm after orgasm, grinding on top of him as he clenched his hands on my still sensitive treacherous cheating bum until we both cuddled up breathless. Perhaps I could make this work after all?