Spaning Sarah

It was about six months ago that my wife did a one-eighty on me. Since that night things have been very different around our house, and certainly more exciting. But I’m getting ahead of myself. I still can’t get her to tell me what triggered it, but the ‘new Sarah’ came out of the closet on a Wednesday night in July.

An old college friend of mine had come into town for a couple of days, and we had taken him to dinner. Fred was working as a salesman for a pharmaceutical company now, and his work took him through our area every few months, but we’d never gotten together. We promised to stay in touch, but of course, old friends always say that. Anyway, we went back to our place for drinks after dinner. We had already told him about our lives and business, and he was talking about his sales runs.

“Doesn’t it get lonely, travelling all the time like that?” Sarah asked.

Fred nodded. “Yeah, sometimes. I mean, I have friends on the road, business contacts and all, but some nights are pretty cold. Sometimes I go to bars just to be around people having a good time.”

“You need a good woman to come home to,” Sarah observed.

“I think that’s right,” he said. “But I haven’t chased one down yet; closest I can come is a twenty dollar table dance at a topless club.”

“How long does she dance?” Sarah asked

“About one song, generally. Not long enough.”

“Those women must make an awful lot of money in a night,” Sarah said.

“Oh, yeah. You figure they get twenties for table dances, and singles trickle into their panties all night long,” Fred said. “It’s big money.”

“Man, I remember when the table dances were ten,” I said.

“They still are, some places,” Fred said. “But it’s like anything else, and a ten dollar table dance is usually worth its cost.”

“Would you guys pay to see me dance?” Sarah asked. It came out of the blue, and we just sat and stared at her, not answering. She stood up and straightened her blouse, running her hands slowly down her front, pulling the material taut against her breasts. “I suppose I could just dance, and see if you guys pay.” She started to walk out of the room, but turned to face us again at the end of the hallway. We were grinning now, like we thought it was a joke, but were still too addle-brained to speak. “Yes, I think so. Let’s see what I’m worth to you.”

As soon as she was out of the room Fred came alive. “Man, what’s she doing? She’s not really going to do this, is she?”

“Naw, she’s bluffing,” I said, shifting on the couch. I didn’t think she would, but it was so off the wall for her to even suggest such a thing that I somehow feared she might. I wasn’t sure either, that I wasn’t hoping she would. “Still, it might be fun to call her bluff. Have you got some singles? We raided our pockets and came up with some cash, but only less than forty between us, mostly in singles and fives.

“What if she’s not bluffing?” Fred asked. “What then?”

I shrugged. “Roll with it, I guess.”

Sarah peeked around the hallway to see if we were ready for her. We made like it was all a joke, our dollars out of sight. “Come on, honey,” I called to her. “You don’t have to prove anything. We know you can dance, but you’re not going to.” Her eyebrows raised; I’d dared her without meaning to. She held up the remote for our stereo system, and a sexy dance tune came on. It struck me that she must have cued that up earlier in the afternoon, and I wondered what else she had planned.

She strolled out in a two piece number with a deep V-neck blouse and a skirt which buttoned down the right leg. It was fairly long, extending to mid-calf, but was already unbuttoned almost to her hip. She had put on a pair of red fuck-me pumps I’d bought her years ago. She danced seductively, placing a foot on the coffee table near us so we could see her shapely legs and get a glimpse of aquamarine panties. I hadn’t seen her look so hot and so sexy in a long time, and it occured to me that my wife was more of a looker than I realized. Once she danced into the room, Fred never took his eyes off her. His reservations about this, if they had ever been genuine, were long forgotten and he had bills in his hand.

“Ah, a paying customer,” Sarah said. She stepped over the coffee table and danced right in front of Fred, bending over and pulling down on the neck of her blouse to give him a good view of her substantial cleavage. She looked him in the eyes and smiled, shaking her breasts at him. Next she shimmied over to me and turned around, rolling her sweet round ass. She lifted her black hair and let it fall through her fingers onto her back before turning around and showing me what she had shown Fred. After a minute she returned to Fred and was flaunting her cleavage again.

The song ended, followed by another with similar rhythm. “I guess you guys get an extended play tonight,” Sarah said. She gave us a devilish smile.

Fred made a show of looking over her blouse, waving a dollar. “I don’t see any pockets,” he complained. “I’m not sure where to put this.” In one movement she pulled the blouse over her head and onto his, leaving it rolled up on his neck. She had on a lacy bra which matched the panties. It was cut low, and just barely covered her nipples. Cupping her breasts together, she thrust her tits out in front of Fred.

“Just put it here,” she purred. He tucked the dollar down low in the bra. Sarah pushed the coffee table back with her foot to give herself more room, and undid two more buttons of the skirt to expose her hip fully, leaving it attached only at the waist. Fred displayed a five, and Sarah kicked her heel up, placing her right foot on the top of the couch near his shoulder. He neatly placed the five in the crotch of her panties, and I saw his finger disappear longer than it needed to. She danced a bit more before taking the skirt comletely off and flinging it over my head. When I pulled it off I had my dollars out; I wanted some of that.

She pulled down her bra straps, giving us brief peeks at her nipples, they protruded firm and tall from the lace. When she danced in front of me again it came completely off, allowing her breasts to sway freely in time with the music. She turned, dancing with her back to us for a few moments, bent over so that her ass looked like a melon: sweet, plump and ripe for the picking. We gave her more dollars for the view and the brief touch of her velvety skin. I put a dollar in with my teeth, and Sarah ground her ass against my face; Fred offered another five and got the same bonus.

“Take off your panties,” Fred whispered. His voice was low and almost hoarse with anticipation.

“But where would you put your money?”

He grinned broadly. “I’ll find someplace.” Sarah stood in front of him and turned, bending over low, so her forehead almost touched her knees, and peeled the aquamarine panties down her hips, catching bills as they fell. Fred sat back, enjoying a full view of her pussy. As she rolled them off her ankles, he leaned forward again, aiming a bill toward her crotch, but she moved away. Turning around, she offered him her cleavage again, squeezing her breasts together.

“Here is a better spot,” she said. He slid the bill between her tits, and she sqeezed them tight on it. Dancing to me again, she once more squeezed her breasts together, this time rubbing her nipples against my nose. I opened my mouth and took one in, sucking hard, letting it pull out long against my teeth; she loved having her tits sucked. She grinned, loving it, trying not to let her breathing give her away. She moved to Fred, and rubbed her nipples on his nose. He opened his mouth, but she backed away, shaking a finger at him. Sitting on the coffee table, she laid her feet on Fred’s shoulders and spread her legs wide, giving him a clear view of all she had to offer. He was dying to slip some bills in there, but she kept waving that finger around.

Suddenly, the song ended, and Sarah abruptly closed her legs. Sitting up, she tucked her arms around her breasts and began to pull up her panties. “So, what’d you guys think? Good show?” We nodded dumbly. “Am I a naughty enough girl for you?” She flashed that wicked grin again, and I had a thought.

“Actually, you’re almost too naughty,” I said, giving Fred a glance. “And you know what happens to naughty girls…”

“They get an STD?”

“No, they get spanked.” Sarah narrowed her eyes; she wasn’t sure she liked where this was going, but it was now my turn to spring a surprise, and she would just have play along. “You teased poor Fred here awfully bad, not letting him suck your nips or touch your pussy … and I think that little teases need to be disciplined.”

“Aw, I don’t know,” she said, trying to backpeddle. “What if I let him suck my tits now? Wouldn’t that be good enough?”

Fred was nodding, but I shook my head. “No.” I knew she liked that too much; it was no kind of ‘punishment.’ I knelt down beside her and began to turn her to face the coffee table. “You just lie down here, and we’ll pull off these bothersome panties…” Fred was immediately on his knees with me, rubbing his hands together eagerly. “What do you think, Fred? Five swats apiece for teasing, and another five for acting so slutty and dancing this way?” “Hey!” Sarah objected. “You liked the dancing; you can’t spank me for that!”

“Well, she is right about that,” Fred conceded. “I think ten from us both for the teasing.”

“Right.” I pulled her panties off, and rubbed her smooth round ass a bit before applying the first swat. I just couldn’t give her a really good one straight off, and it ended up being more of a playful slap.

“Thank you sir, may I have another?” Sarah obviously expected more from me, and I tried to give it to her. My swats got harder and sharper, but still were only brief love pats; after each one I rubbed her bum, and after my ten her bottom was hardly even flushed. Fred, on the other hand, seemed an expert at spankings, and got Sarah’s attention straightaway with a sharp blow. Just listening to it land made my ass sting; she gripped the coffee table, but said not a word.He also rubbed her ass and took some liberties with his fingers between swats, but Sarah was concentrating so hard on the next one coming that I don’t think she even noticed. I moved around and sat in front of her, and noticed that her teeth were clenched. I unzipped my pants.

“Here, take this for something to chew on.” I was half afraid that she might actually bite me, but she took it in and began to suck it slow and easy while Fred finished his ten swats. By the time he got to ten, his pants were down and he was rubbing her crotch with his tool, which he positioned at her back end when he was done.

“Now, Sarah, you aren’t going to be teasing us anymore, are you?” He asked, bumping his dick against her mound. She shook her head as she tongued mine. “But I wonder, how do I know that for sure?”

She pulled off my cock long enough to say “fuck me and see.” This was all the go-ahead Fred needed, and he slid into her in one easy stroke. We pumped her for a bit this way, til I wanted to change.

“Hey, Fred, you know I’m thinking I didn’t swat her good enough, y’know?”

“You want to swap ends and take another go?” He asked. I nodded. “Shit, man, she’s your wife.” He pulled out, I pulled out, and Sarah moaned. We swapped ends quickly and went back to work, only this time I was pumping the round end, and meant to take advantage of it.

As we assumed our positions, Sarah turned over her shoulder and said, “Honey, if you’re going to spank me again, let me know you’re there.” Oh, I would not disappoint her! She took Fred in her mouth, and I lanced her backside. I leaned back to take in the view, kneading her bum like bread dough. Bringing up one hand, I slapped her ass like I wanted to gallop, and she jumped right onto Fred’s dick.

After a few turns I got the rhythm down and slapped her ass hard every time she came back for more, and she began grunting and moaning. She was stroking Fred’s balls with one hand, and holding onto the table with the other as we worked her from both ends. Finally Fred let loose his load and she slowed her pace, then I pulled out and shot my wad on that beautiful backside.

We fell back, and Sarah just lay on the coffee table where she was. We lay like that for awhile, each tired and half drunk, until we crawled off to our beds. Fred had to leave the next day, but promised to be back. But that’s another story.