I was a virgin when I met Paul and we've been married for seven years. A change in his job meant we moved to Kent. I got a job in the accounts office at a local firm and became friendly with a co-worker Carole.
Aged twenty-nine she was a couple of years older than me and we had a lot in common and became good friends. We may have been on the same wavelength, but in looks we were very different. Carole was five feet four, with shortish blonde hair and rather small breasts. I'm a couple of inches taller with quite long dark hair and a 36d bust. Paul insists that my breasts are one of my finest features -- full and firm without being big and gross. He's certainly had hours of fun with them and he's forever touching my bum and bust as I move round the house.
One night I went out for a drink with Carole and I made a light-hearted remark about Paul never leaving me alone. Carole said that Robert was just the same and, being a bit more extrovert then I am, she went on to say how active their sex life was.
We ended up exchanging bedroom secrets like a couple of giggling schoolgirls. I know some women routinely indulge in such talk, but I'm rather reserved and it was the first time I'd done it. I found it surprisingly arousing to be exchanging personal details with another woman. There were no objections from Paul though when I got back home and made it clear that I needed his prick inside me.
From then on my friendship with Carole was on a slightly different, more intimate, level than with even my two oldest friends who I've known since my schooldays.
Every now and again we went out for a meal as a foursome with our husbands. On one night out Carole and I went to the loo as soon as we got to the restaurant and for a laugh we took our knickers off and put them in our handbags. We had a bet as to which of our husbands would notice first; I was sure it would be Paul as he doesn't need much of an excuse to touch my bottom.
Well in the event neither of them noticed. As we were saying our goodbyes on the doorstep of our house, Carole and I burst out laughing and told the men they were seriously middle-aged, never having noticed that their wives were knickerless. They were annoyed at the opportunity they'd missed, but it certainly seemed to turn Paul on because he whisked me upstairs and gave me a good fucking.
We met them a month later and this time we went to an Indian restaurant. Early in the evening Paul asked if we'd be taking our knickers off again. I was about to say no, when Carole's husband Robert said he had a better idea.
"I dare you to take them off at the table without anyone else in the restaurant noticing. If you're successful there'll be a treat. If you fail then you have to perform a forfeit."
"You're joking!" I exclaimed.
"I'm deadly serious," said Robert in a mock offended tone. "We've got a corner table and those plants shield us. Pick the right moment and it will actually be pretty easy."
"What's the treat?" Carole asked, ever the more practical one.
"We'll go to that show you mentioned," Robert replied. I must admit that was quite tempting and I could see that Carole was impressed, but I'm more cautious than she is.
"What's the forfeit?" I asked warily.
"Oh we'd each have to make one up and then we'd mix them up and one would be picked at random."
Carole said OK and the men were full of almost childish enthusiasm so I went along with them. I had a pen in my handbag and we each wrote a forfeit down on a slip of paper. Once we'd done that they seemed to expect us to take our knickers off straightaway, but we told them to wait.
However I wasn't surprised when, as soon as the main course was finished, they were encouraging us to slip our knickers off. Carole's bolder than I am and she started wriggling in her seat and a minute later she coolly handed her knickers across the table to Robert.
Come on Kim said the others, but I told them they would have to wait until I was ready. After the desserts had been removed I looked around, then reached under my dress and pulled my knickers down. Everything was going smoothly until I got them caught round the heel of my shoe. Just at that moment the waiter came back.
"Would anyone like any coff..........." he said, and stopped amazed at the sight of the customer with her knickers round her ankles. To make matters worse they were lacy red ones, which sent out an unmistakeably sexy message.
Blushing deeply I pulled them back up, and told the others I wasn't hanging round for coffee.
"Alright we'll go," said Robert, "but first you've got to pick your forfeit."
He put the four slips of paper in a glass and told me to close my eyes and pick one. I prayed that I'd pick the one I'd written -- telling everyone about my most embarrassing sexual experience wouldn't be too bad.
I picked one out -- and I didn't like the look of it.
"What does it say?" said Carole. I passed it to her.
"My, my Kim" she said, raising her eyebrows and reading aloud "
Have your bottom smacked by the other persons partner
." You wrote that didn't you Robert? I bet you were praying for that waiter to come back."
"You're absolutely right dear," said Robert with a satisfied smile.
We paid up and left and I hurried out, keeping my head down and avoiding eye contact with any of the waiters. We chatted fairly normally on the car journey back, but it seemed to me that there was a certain tension in the air. Or perhaps I was imagining things because I know I was on edge wondering what was going to happen about the forfeit I was supposed to fulfil.
It was our turn to go back to Robert and Carole's for a nightcap, so Carole and I went into the kitchen to sort out glasses and a tray. Straightaway I asked her.
"I'm not expected to do this am I?"
Carole smiled.
"Well, Robert is a bottom man, and I'm sure he'll be very keen to do it."
"But won't it hurt?" I asked, at the same time as it dawned on me that Robert must have spanked Carole. "Has Robert spanked you?"
