Repaying a Loan

I'd just strolled out to the mailbox to pick up my mail when I ran into Vicky. Now if I was the suspicious type, which I'm not, I might have thought the meeting Vicky was not entirely coincidental, even if she did live next door.

What was there in this chance meeting that might make a suspicious person think that it wasn't a chance meeting? Let me see. There was the fact that a young lady who never walks anywhere she can drive just happened to choose this moment to go for a walk. Also, she walked fast enough down her drive and along the front of the houses to meet me at my mailbox. She must have been walking considerably faster than me.

Last, but not least, there was her attire. I've had the pleasure of seeing a woman on the hunt and the way they dress for it and that was Vicky to a tee. At a glance her clothes were casual, and at a second glance, too. If her skirt was just a little too short, well only a censorious person would say so. Perhaps showing a little too much cleavage? I couldn't think of any man who would object. Was her blouse a little tight, allowing her breasts to be brought into prominence? Well, not really. It was probably just a case that it was probably an older blouse that she'd slightly outgrown.

Still, adding all these little things up and she was dressed for the kill. Seeing she'd only encountered me, by sheer chance of course, there was no way that I was her target. Besides, she was happily married and didn't need to go hunting for a man.

"Andrew," she said, sounding excessively happy to have met me. "Isn't it a lovely day?"

"Indeed it is," I said agreeably. "Might I say how charming you look this morning?"

"Oh, you," she said dismissively, while smiling at the compliment.

"Are you going anywhere in particular?" I asked. "You, ah, seemed to be in a slight hurry."

"I don't know where you got that idea," she said airily. "I'm just going for a short walk and enjoying the fresh air and sunshine."

"Uh-huh. And what are your plans for the day?"

"Oh, mainly catching up on house work," she said. "I have been invited out with some girls for a hen's night, tonight, though."

"Well I'm sure you will enjoy spending some time with your friends."

"I will," she agreed, and then her face fell. "Oh. I don't know if I'll be able to go or not," she sighed.

"Why not? Barry saying no?" (Barry was her poor deluded husband. Meant well, but an idiot.)

"It's not that. He says I can go but he won't give me any money."

And here comes the bite.

"Oh, I have an idea. Do you think you could lend me fifty until payday? I'd pay it back first thing as soon as I get paid."

"Hmm. I'll have to think about that. Why don't you come inside while I consider it?"

I turned and headed for the front door, hearing her footsteps hurrying along behind me, already anticipating having the money.

As soon as I was inside I dropped down into an armchair, waving my hand at the couch to indicate that she should sit.

"I don't know," I said dubiously. "I mean, what's in it for me?"

"What do you mean?" she asked.

"Well, if I remember correctly, and I do, I lent you fifty until payday once before. That payday apparently never arrived. I mentioned it to Barry once and he just waved it off as your debt and he was sure you'd pay it back in due course."

"I remember that. Barry asked me about it. I can't remember what I said it was for but he said I'd have to pay it back eventually and not to bother him with such things. You had no right to ask him about it."

"Obviously, as I still didn't get my money," I observed, "so I'm sure you can see why I'm wondering what's in it for me."

"Alright. I'll pay you back the full one hundred on payday."

"So you say now, but that doesn't mean you'll remember come payday. I'd like something more substantial than a vague promise."

While we'd been talking I'd been rather blatantly looking over her figure. She had a good one that deserved to be looked at and she knew it. Rather than objecting to the way I was watching her she'd shifted her legs slightly, showing a bit more thigh, and another button on her blouse had accidentally popped open, showing a bit more cleavage and a bit more bra. She was lining up for the kill.

"Well, I'm not sure what you mean by something more substantial but I think you'll find I can be a bit more, ah, affectionate," she said smiling.

"How much more affectionate?" I asked, biting hard on her bait.

She blushed and looked away, all demure embarrassment, which was quite a good performance.

"I, ah, suppose I could play with you a little bit," she suggested, closing her hand and moving it in a suggestive manner.

"Or even something a bit more?" I suggested, looking at her mouth.

Her blush this time was a bit more realistic, but she wasn't going to back down. She wanted the money.

"Are you suggesting that I should give you a, ah, blowjob?" she asked, sounding horrified. "Oh, I couldn't. I really couldn't, but if you're going to be insistent then I guess maybe I could do it."

She was trying to hide it but the thought of doing it was arousing her. So was the thought of getting fifty and wiping out the fifty she already owed.

"You're nearly correct," I admitted, still looking at her lips, "but it's not those lips I want wrapped around me."

She frowned for a moment while she worked that out and then she really blushed.

"Are you kidding? You expect me to fuck you for it? Who do you think I am?"

"Vicky, from next door," I said affably. "Vicky, who I want to watch as she gets undressed. Vicky, who I want to see standing naked in front of me. Vicky, who I want to see lying down on that rug, legs spread, waiting for me."

"B-but I can't do that. It'd be wicked."

"Well that's easily solved. I'll simply spank you for being so wicked. That way you get punished for what you're going to do. Or what you've just done, depending on whether you want to be spanked before or after. I suggest before as it will help prepare you for what you're going to do."

"What? But I don't want to be spanked."

"That's even better as it makes it the perfect punishment. Actually, now that I think of it, you probably don't want to get undressed either, do you?"

She shook her head, not saying anything.

"Okay. I'll help you there, too. Come here."

I patted my knee and she slowly got to her feet and came toward me. When she was in easy reach I stopped her.

"Now just relax a little," I told her.

I flicked open the button at the side of her skirt and lowered the zip. It didn't take much coaxing for the skirt to pool down around her ankles, leaving a skimpy pair of lacy panties on display. Her blush factor was working overtime but from the look on her face so was her lasciviousness.

I reached to start undoing the remaining buttons on her blouse but she hastily grabbed hold of them, preventing me.

"You'd rather I took these down first?" I asked, my hands sliding down to her panties, hooking my thumbs over the waist.

"No," she said, speaking very fast, her hands now holding her panties rather than her blouse.

"Okay," I said agreeably, reaching for her blouse buttons again, this time successfully.

There were only three buttons not undone and it only took a moment to fix that. I parted her blouse, showing that she was wearing a bra that was a match for the panties. There was no way a bra that scanty was supporting breasts like those. They were self-supporting with the bra extraneous decoration. I eased the blouse off her shoulders and down her arms, dropping it on the floor next to her.

Her hands were now moving about hesitantly. I suspected that she thought she should try to cover up but felt it would be a bit silly as both bra and panties would be coming off anyway. Either that or she'd panic and decide this wasn't going to happen after all.

"It's up to you now," I told her. "What are you going to take off?"

"What do you mean? Aren't you going to finish doing it?"

"No. Your turn. Which is it? At the count of three. One. Two. Three."

Even as she was saying three she was convulsively grabbing her panties and pushing them down. Then she reached behind her and unhooked her bra, leaning forward slightly to let the cups drop into her hands.

Now she was naked and I leaned back, enjoying the sight of her nudity. The white on her breasts and mons showed the outline of her bikini. I wouldn't mind seeing her in that bikini, I had to admit.

She wasn't blushing now. It was more a case of her face was flushed and she wore a hungry look. I was going to have to work to satisfy that hunger. But first...

"It seems to me that you're being a wicked girl. You deserve to be punished for that."

"What are you going to do?"

"I think a simple beating to start with," I said softly, reaching for her and drawing her closer. "Afterwards a little bit of ravishment might take place. Now bend over."

I adjusted my position in the armchair, making it easier to bend over my knees. Then I started spanking her.

I had to remember that she wasn't my wife so the spanking couldn't be severe enough to leave bruises. A nice glow to her bottom would suffice and, if carefully done, a warm feeling deep inside her.

My hand came down in a casual swat, hard enough to sting. She made a small yelping sound and then gasped when my hand sort of bounced off her bottom to land on her mound, delivering another spank there. I continued in this fashion, a spank would land on her bottom and a lighter one on her vulva, just hard enough to arouse.

Vicky started carrying on a bit, swearing and protesting. Not, mind you, telling me to stop. If anything she was pushing up, offering her personal parts for more rough treatment.

When I judged the time was right I stopped the spanking part of that I was doing, my hand massaging and exploring her vulva. I rubbed her firmly, let my fingernails scratch lightly along her labia, a couple of fingers dipping deep into her, continuously touching, probing, teasing.

She was totally aroused, hot, wet, and ready, her inner lips protruding and pouting, wanting some very personal attention. Vicky reached a stage where enough was enough. She pushed up and away from me, sinking down onto the floor on hands and knees.

Turning her head she glared at me.

"Stop stuffing around and do it, damn you," she yelled. "Now!"

She seemed to be a bit distressed and who am I to deny a lady in distress? I sank down onto the floor behind her, my trousers already down and out of the road. I didn't think that I'd need any finesse with what I was about to do, just line up and plug away.

That's precisely what I did. Lined up and drove in fiercely, thrusting fully into her with one swift stroke. She gave a relieved cry of, "Yes!" humping her hips and pushing to meet me, wanting all that I had to give her.

It had been my intention to take things nice and easy, giving Vicky time to adjust to what I was doing. I knew she wasn't a virgin but I had no idea what sort of experience she had. Maybe a lot, maybe little. Her beloved Barry may have been the greatest lover in the world or he may have been a complete flop. (I was leaning more to the complete flop or I doubt that she'd have been with me.) Whatever I thought it only fair to give her a chance to adapt to my style.

What a laugh. She was bucking against me, urging me to do it, do it, do it, right from that first thrust. She was all excited eagerness, pressing urgently to meet my increasingly energetic thrusts. My arms were around her, playing with her breasts, breasts that were apparently very sensitive if the happy cries she was giving was any indication.

I drove in repeatedly, wanting this to last for as long as possible. Her reactions to me were inspiring, giving me the impetus to keep going, doing my best to please her while pleasing myself. And I was pleasing myself. The feel of her wrapped around my cock, flesh rasping against flesh, was exhilarating.

When she climaxed I was taken by surprise. I hadn't realised she was so close to it. Not that it made much difference. Her passage simply clamped down on me, forcing me to have my own climax, and then doing her best to milk me dry.

We were both breathing hard after we separated and dressed. I passed Vicky the fifty she wanted, saying nothing.

"Thank you," she said happily. "At least, now I know what to expect if I ever want to borrow off you in the future."

I didn't reply but the comment made me thoughtful. Could I survive if she wanted to 'borrow' money on a regular basis?