Act It Out

I had this idea for a story but I'd run into a problem setting up the scenario. The basis of the story was that the hero, me, was going to do something without a valid reason, unless you consider wanting to do it for the sake of doing it a reason. Anyway, I had a bit of writer's block where setting up the stage was concerned and it was irritating me.

A bit of background. I'm single, forty, and currently living in a boarding house. I'm a free-lance programmer, taking short term contracts that pay very well. I've squirreled a bit of money away and I do own a house (two actually) which I rent out. My own rental at the boarding house is less than the rents I'm getting in.

There's generally several other boarders at the place but I'm the longest stayer to this point. The owner is a pleasant woman and I get on well with her. Friend-zone only, mind you, as she is my land-lady. She had a daughter of about twenty who lives with her. I've always considered Trudi to be a bit of a prude. The sort of girl who turns down her nose if anyone tells a risqué joke.

Anyway, as I was saying, I'd had this silly little story nagging away at me for several weeks, just irking me because of the missing start-up. Finally, on a Saturday afternoon, I was in the general room of the boarding house watching some cricket when Trudi walked in.

She smiled and said good afternoon, the way she always done. Always proper, is Trudi, remembering to smile and say hullo to the guests every time she runs into them. Me, I just flicked a glance at her and grunted.

Oddly enough, she called me out on it.

"What is your problem?" she asked. "You've been grouchy for a while now."

So I told her.

"Look, it's like this. I write short stories for a site on the internet. I try to put in a bit of action, a bit of sex, and a bit of humour. It's not deathless prose, but a bit of fun. OK?"

She nodded and I continued.

"Now I've got this story I want to write. I've got the story fairly well worked out except for the start. At the start I want the main character to do something that's out of character and to do it with no real reason for doing it."

"Um, isn't that a little illogical?" she asked, as if I didn't already know that.

"Damn right," I said. "It could have repercussions for the hero. Why would he do something for no reason? But having no reason is the reason I want him to do it, if you get my drift. I need a scenario where something could be used as a reason, no matter how illogical."

"Why don't you run over the character's actions? You know, try to act them out and see how things go. You might be able to see a reason or alternatively decide it's a bad idea and drop it."

I have to admit she had an idea there. Act it out. I considered what I'd be acting out and decided that she'd had a very bad idea.

Several other things came to mind. It was a Saturday afternoon and all the other boarders were out. So was Trudi's mother. She'd gone to a friend's place and wouldn't be back until the evening. Trudi was young and very attractive and standing right there. She was wearing a sun-dress and when she'd passed in front of the window I couldn't help but note that she had on minimal underwear.

"Ah, I'm not too sure that would be a good idea. It's not something I can do by myself. Um, if you're not doing anything, do you think you could give me a hand?"

"I'm free," Traci said with a shrug. "What do I have to do?"

"Just react spontaneously," I said. "It will give me an idea of how the female character in the book will react to the hero. OK?"

"Fine," she said, and gave a shocked scream when I grabbed her and jerked her over my knee.

"What are doing," she shrieked when I flicked her dress up away from her bottom, revealing a pretty pair of yellow panties.

"Spanking you," I said, bringing my hand down smartly on her bottom.

"What? You can't do that. Why are you doing that? Stop it."

"It's what the story calls for," I explained, continuing to bring my hand smartly down on her bottom. "The hero spanks the girl for no reason. Although I do think it would probably be better on a bare bottom."

"No. Don't you dare," came the horrified protest, but the panties came down, revealing a very nice bottom, even if it did have a nice red flush already.

"Cut it out," she squealed, legs kicking up and down as the spanking progressed. "You can't do this to me."

"I can. I'm doing it," I pointed out.

I paused for a moment, hand resting on her bottom.

"Tell me, do you think the hero would finish up taking the girl's dress of, getting her naked?"

"No," came the quick reply.

"I think he would," I said, considering the matter. "We can try it, anyway. If it doesn't seem right you can always put your dress back on."

With that I pushed the sun dress up. Nice thing about sun-dresses. They're so easy to take off. I also paused while pushing it up to undo Traci's bra, letting me push both items up together. It took a bit of wriggling as she was resisting, but both items joined her panties on the floor.

"Yes, that's a lot better," I said, holding a squirming bundle of naked femininity across my lap. "Now, let's get on with this."

I continued giving Traci a nice little spanking while she continued squirming and protesting. Don't get the idea that I was beating her unmercifully. I was just spanking hard enough to smart and to redden her bottom. There wouldn't even be any bruising, apart to her pride.

Of course, I couldn't go on too long with the spanking. That would have spoilt the effect. I finally wound down with a few friendly pats and just sat there, holding her over my lap.

"That was the reasonless part of the story," I told her. "The man had no right to spank the woman and I really needed to see how she'd react. You reacted very nicely, I must say."

"Bastard," she said, and she said it in a most heartfelt manner. I was quite shocked. "What the hell would he expect to happen after he spanked her for no reason?"

"I'm glad you asked that question," I told her. "He wanted to know how the woman would react physically to the feeling of helplessness at being naked and spanked. Would it excite her or just make her angry?"

"Just make her angry," came the quick response. But I was already checking up on the matter.

"Um, I think you might be telling me a porky," I said, stroking her breast and noting that her nipples were erect. I slid my other hand down between her legs, cupping her mound. "Mmm, definitely telling me a porky. I can feel the heat here."

"No, you can't, and even if you could it doesn't mean anything. He shouldn't have spanked her and she has every right to be angry. Oh, my god. Don't do that!"

While she'd been protesting I'd slipped a finger between her lips, feeling inside her. The heat may not have meant anything but the moisture certainly did. So did the way she moved against my finger. I started rubbing my hand back and forth along her mound, building on her arousal.

"It would, of course, be against the heroic nature of the hero to leave her in a state of arousal," I said softly.

"She wouldn't mind," came the rebuttal. "In fact, she'd refuse point blank to have anything more to do with him."

"Ah, my story," I pointed out. "The hero refuses to take no for an answer and ravishes the woman."

With that I bundled Traci off my knee, and onto the floor. Well, partly onto the floor. I actually had her kneeling on the floor, bending over the couch, my hand on her back holding her there. My other hand was still doing naughty things to her pussy and I almost laughed at the way her bottom was squirming from side to side.

I stood up, even if this did mean relinquishing my hold on Traci. She turned to glare at me, then noticed that I was busy sliding my trousers down. Seeing what had been hidden, she blushed, and quickly turned her head away.

"Oh, come on," she said. "You're not seriously thinking that you can just ravish me and that I'll permit it?"

Damn right I was. I was standing there with my trousers around my knees. There was nothing to stop Traci jumping to her feet and running off to her room and locking the door. If genuinely scared she could sling on a dress and climb out the window and be long gone before I could get her door open. Instead of which she stayed right there, bent over the couch.

"I don't have any choice," I told her, kneeling behind her. I started stoking my cock against her lips, watching them puff up even more, reaching for me. "The story requires it and you're the one who told me to act it out."

I started leaning forward slightly, putting a little pressure against her lips. They obligingly parted, letting me ease past, closing around me as I went.

"Oh, no," Traci said in a gasping voice. "You can't do this. I never agreed to this."

"Actually, I think you'll find you did," I assured her, pushing in a little deeper, gratified to feel her pushing back, letting me in deeper, faster. "You agreed to help me act out the story and this is part of it."

"That's not fair," she wailed. "I didn't know you'd want sex."

"I did tell you that my stories were about action and sex and a little humour. We had the action and we're having the sex, and don't you find the position you put yourself in a little humorous?"

"No. Stop pushing on that thing."

"Ah, I'm not sure how to phrase this but I'm no longer pushing into you. I'm just holding still while you're pushing onto me."

There was a moment stunned silence while she reviewed what was happening. Then she gave a gasp and stopped pressing against me, giving me another heartfelt, "Bastard."

I laughed. Not nice, I know, but it did strike me as funny.

"OK. Now I'm pushing," I told her, and drilled in firmly. I was already most of the way inside her and it didn't need much of a drill to slap firmly home.

I have to give Traci full marks for quick thinking. No sooner had my groin slapped against hers and she was rallying.

"That's it," she said quickly. "That counts as ravishment. You can take it out now."

I didn't even deign to answer that. I just gave a gentle nudge to let her know what was coming. She gasped and nudged me back. I slid my hands around and started rubbing her breasts, not hard, but firmly enough to let her know she had them and they were sensitive.

With everything in position to my satisfaction I started taking her properly, pulling back and returning, moving slowly so as to let her arousal build slowly. I saw no reason to hurry.

Traci was moving with me right from the first stroke. She made a little sound deep in her throat and started swaying, helping me to sink in, apparently quite content to move at a slow dreamy pace.

Traci might have been a little reluctant to start with, and might possibly deny everything afterwards, but right now she was superbly content. I won't say she was purring as I stroked her but the soft contented gasps she was giving was as close as she could come without doing so.

I kept up the slow ravishment, long slow strokes that tantalized, slowly stirring up her arousal and building her excitement. After a few minutes I don't think she knew what was happening, just rocking in place, moaning quietly, completely given over to what she was feeling.

I started building up my speed in slow increments. Traci matched my efforts with no apparent problem and no cessation of her enjoyment. The speed of our union kept increasing and it wasn't all that long before I was taking her hard and fast, having reached a tumultuous rhythm that suited me.

Apparently the faster style also suited Traci. She was bouncing along in fine style, her soft gasps and moans being replaced by eager squeaks and little screams. She was absolutely burning now, her purring complacency replaced with eager expectation. I adjusted my position and tempo just a trifle and did my best to hold her on that edge.

Fickle creatures, women. Here I was, lifting her to a position of divine expectation, and was she satisfied? She was at first, but then she changed. Her expectation turned to irritation and then she demanding I do more. Instead of "thank you for what you're doing" it was "My god, what are you doing? Finish it, damn you."

I tried to hold firm to my intention to overwhelm her with pleasure, but I have to admit her pleas were starting to get a little strident. I finally capitulated when she turned her head to look at me and called me a bastard. Again. I ask you. My feelings hurt, I accepted she was just naturally contrary.

I also winked at her and drove in even harder. A few fast thrusts and she was shrieking and shaking, mightily relieved to have her climax running over her. I had no objection to my own, either, holding her tight while ejaculated deep inside her.

Traci just sagged down against the couch afterwards. I sat down next to her and, picking her up, I cuddled her on my lap for a while. It wasn't long before she was recovering, taking notice of what was going on around her. She tried to scramble off my lap but didn't really put much effort into it. She relaxed again, still breathing hard.

"You know, that was quite an interesting experience," I murmured. "Um, I've another dozen scenarios for stories I want to do. Would you care to help me out with some of those?"

She reared back, glaring at me.

"No, I wouldn't," she snapped, "and you've got a hell of a nerve asking me. What do you think my mother will say if she finds out what you did?"

"I'm not sure but I suspect we may find out in a minute or two. She just drove up."

There was a loud squeal, a blur of motion, and Traci was gone. I didn't actually see her bend down and grab her clothes but they were also gone.

I would, I decided, review other scenarios I had in mind. Maybe I could persuade her to help me. It would be fun trying.