How Not to Just Be Friends

Today I got spanked by another man. I've never been exposed and vulnerable like that. I've never been that out of control, but I've always trusted him. It hurt, which I didn't like, but the rest of it was nice. I liked having his hands on my ass. I liked having heightened senses. I liked feeling dangerous. I liked that it made him happy. I have no idea which part of it made me so horny.

I brought him some dinner after work. Ten years out of college and the man still can't boil water, but I like taking care of him. Robert doesn't like to eat leftovers anyway. I join him on the couch, just a little too close, to watch the last half hour of a violent movie. I don't like it, but I know he'll let me pick the next one. I lean on his shoulder and run my fingers through his hair. He leans away to see the TV.

Just once I want to feel loved and wanted and passionate with him, but he's too stoic for that. He's always uncomfortable when I kiss him. I try not to but it's hard. I can't blame him, we both know we're walking a dangerous road, and it's a way he can protect himself from getting hurt. He doesn't want to hurt our friendship or my marriage. I wish for the millionth time that I was his type- small and techno and single- but I'm not.

So I flirt with him in all the ways we've decided are acceptable over the years. I never tire of the cat and mouse games- I know it won't lead anywhere, but at least I get to touch him. I pour us each a tequila shot and steal the last slice of chocolate cake in my home away from home. I take a seductive bite and refuse to share. He tells me that might earn me a spanking. I remind him that only Robert gets to spank me (not that he ever has).

And then he's pulling me onto his lap and yanks my pants down over my ass. His eyes are on fire. What the fuck? Thank goodness I'm wearing cute panties. Smack! What the fuck? He hits me hard. He tells me between whacks that I've been asking for this for years. Tells me what a fucking tease I am, and how I've never cared about him or Robert's feelings. I am lost. I want to hate him and hate myself right now, but instead I'm surprisingly turned on. We've never done anything like this. Been this close. Fuck, why did I tell Robert I'd be home so soon?

He yells at me to cum and I fake an orgasm, lying across his lap. He touches me masterfully, but it's too much pressure to cum, too many things keeping me in my own head. Or maybe I'm just a control freak- I'm always the one in charge. He can tell I faked it, which surprises the hell out of me, since I've been faking it at home for years. I thought I was good at it.

He stands up and motions to the bedroom. Maybe seeing my ass pink turned him on, but I think he's worried I faked it and has something to prove as a matter of honor. I should have gone home, but I follow him instead. And then my pants are on the floor. He pops a sleeping pill. He decides the spanking will continue. Will it be his hand or his belt? Neither, but I wanted him, so I chose the belt. It was somewhat satisfying to handle the pain well. At first. Then suddenly there stopped being any pleasure in the pain. Ow. Another. OW! Finally the end- thank god.

He puts lotion on my stinging ass, and he softens a bit. I want hugs and kisses. He wants me to lay back and relax. Suddenly there are two fingers deep inside me and I nearly burst. This is better- I can cum laying face-up on a bed. Plus I can see him looking strong, confident, determined. I've waited a long time for this. No need to fake it this time.

He starts to take off my shirt, but I don't want to be naked in front of him. Why couldn't he be less handsome? Pregnancy took much of my beauty, and I feel bad enough about my body around him already, without him knowing all of its secrets. I reached for his zipper instead, though I don't think he wanted it. He's turned me down before. Was it the meds he took earlier making him change his mind? Whatever. I want him and I take off his pants.

I take back some of my dignity here. Here I can feel sexy and in control. I suck him in all my favorite ways, trying to gauge what he likes. I bring him to the brink a few times. He doesn't give a lot away, but I think he's having fun. He is fully in my mouth when I feel his finger in me. I need to be fucked and I ride his finger selfishly.

Finally I hear the clock start ticking- I have to get home to Robert. Once I decide to finish him it doesn't take long. He pours cum in my mouth and I swallow it all. No one else's tastes that good. I wonder if things had been different if we could have been together, but somehow I don't think so. We were always destined to be friends. Dammit.

He follows me outside and tells me we can't do that again. In fact, we played with fire, and should pretend it never happened. Fuck fuck shit! We couldn't have talked about it in the morning? You swear you'll always be my friend, but I have doubts. Can we really just be friends?