textfiles/sex/EROTICA/R/redcheek.txt

                            RED CHEEKS
                                by
                            Dave Reston


               Petite blonde, age 24, 5'2",
               105 lbs., 34-22-34, loves red
               cheeks - especially mine!  If
               you're a man who knows how to tan a
               naughty girl's bottom, give me a
               spanking I won't forget.  Send
               photo and personal info to
               Box 103SM.

        The ad was in a local adults-only newspaper, and as soon
as I saw it I knew I had to respond.  I'd fantasized for a long
time about spanking and being spanked, and had even spent an hour
in a "dungeon" to satisfy my curiosity about whether being
spanked - hard - by a woman would be the kind of turn-on I
imagined.  But I hadn't yet met a woman who wanted to be spanked.
I knew I could find someone who, for a price, would let me do
just about anything, but even if I could afford it, the idea of
paying someone to submit to pain seemed, well, immoral to me.
But here, at last, was someone who might enjoy it!

        I composed a short note and sent it, with a snapshot of
myself, to the paper's box number.  The note included my
telephone number, and a few days later I came home from work to
find a message on my answering machine - call Gail at the number
she mentioned.  I called the number and she answered.  We chatted
a few minutes without mentioning her ad, and I knew she was
trying to find out what kind of person I was, whether I might be
dangerous.  I told her about my job, that I was divorced, and
why, that I had two kids who lived with their mother but spent
two weekends a month with me.  Finally she seemed satisfied that
I wasn't some kind of maniac.  We talked about her ad and my
letter, and eventually agreed to meet for a drink the next
evening, a Friday.

        After we hung up, I inspected the "toys" I'd gathered
over the past few years - several wooden paddles of different
sizes and weights, some with padded faces and some without; small
leather straps with buckles, for restraints, and some larger
straps without buckles, for use on, shall we say, the target
area; a hairbrush from which I'd removed the bristles, so that
one side was flat and smooth and the other side covered with
small holes; and the strip of Lucite and the birch cane that had
been used regularly on me and my younger siblings, from the time
we were seven or eight years old until we reached our early
teens.  I didn't know whether Gail would want me to use any of
the toys, but her ad had sounded as though she was both serious
and experienced, so I guessed that she would be up for more than
a hand spanking.  I cleaned everything out of my gym bag and put
the toys in it for inconspicuous transport.

        The next evening I went to the small bar Gail and I had
agreed on, and I spotted her without difficulty; unlike a lot of
people who posted personal ads, Gail had been truthful about her
attributes.  She was cute without being gorgeous, with a trim,
athletic-looking body and a surprisingly good tan for someone
with such fair skin.  I felt very comfortable being with her.  We
had our drinks, but the place was so noisy that we couldn't have
much of a conversation, and after we'd had a second round Gail
suggested that we go over to her apartment.

        As I followed her up the stairs to her second-floor flat,
gym bag in hand, I couldn't help noticing how the muscles of her
ass bunched and relaxed as climbed the steps, and speculating
about what I'd see once a couple of layers of thin cloth were out
of the way.

        Gail unlocked the front door and ushered me into a neat,
well-furnished apartment.  After giving me a quick tour of the
five rooms she offered me another drink.  I accepted, and she
made drinks for both of us before sitting down on the living room
sofa.  We looked at one another for a long time without speaking,
until I decided to break the ice by asking how she'd come to have
an interest in spanking.

        She said that she had had a very strict upbringing and
had been spanked often as a child, both by her mother and by her
stepfather.  A few years ago she had realized that although those
spankings had been very painful at the time, thinking about them
later was "stimulating".  I asked how old she'd been when she'd
last been spanked by one of them, and learned that her mother
hadn't spanked her after she was about twelve, but that her
stepfather had continued for another couple of years.  Her mother
had finally made him stop because Gail was getting "too
developed."

        I asked how old she'd been when she got her first
"voluntary" spanking, and was rewarded with a blush that extended
even into her scalp.  Nervously, Gail admitted that she hadn't
been spanked since she was fourteen, but hadn't wanted to sound
naive in her ad.  I reassured her that I understood this was an
experiment for her, that we would proceed very gradually and go
no further than she wanted to.  Privately, I doubted that I would
be opening my bag of toys.

        I told Gail I would do nothing without warning her and
giving her a chance to say "no", but that I thought it would help
prepare her mentally if she got into position across my lap.  She
hesitated for a moment, then gulped the last of her drink and
stood up.  Sliding to the center of the sofa, I reached up and
took her hand.  I pulled her gently down until she lay across my
legs; her crotch rested on my right thigh and I could feel her
boobs pressing against the outside of my left thigh.  Without
saying anything, I ran my hand slowly over the seat of her pants
and felt her whole body tremble.

        Keeping my hand on her ass, I asked her to tell me more
about her childhood spankings.  Her mother, she said, usually
used a hard-soled bedroom slipper or a yardstick; her stepfather
had used his hairbrush when she was younger and his belt after
she was ten or eleven.  Quick, impulsive spankings might be
administered wherever she happened to be when the cause arose,
and would be given through whatever clothing she was wearing.
Spankings like that were frightening because they were often
accompanied by rage, and embarrassing if her friends were around,
but not particularly painful because she was protected by
clothing and because the spankings were generally brief.

        Serious spankings, Gail said, were administered in her
bedroom and were much more painful.  Regardless of the time of
day, she would be sent to her room with instructions to remove
all her clothing and put on her nightgown, and would then be left
to contemplate the impending punishment for anywhere from ten
minutes to an hour.  I stroked Gail's back with one hand and her
ass with the other as she spoke, and could feel her arching her
pelvis to push her asscheeks against my hand.

        If her mother were going to do the spanking, Gail
continued, she would have Gail pull her nightgown up to her waist
and lie face down on her bed with her knees bent and her toes on
the floor.  Her mother would then apply the slipper or the
yardstick to Gail's bare bottom.  Most of her mother's spankings
consisted of no more than two dozen strokes, unless Gail moved;
her mother made no attempt to hold Gail in place, but if she
moved she would be ordered back into position and her mother
would start over.  I slid my hand down the back of first one of
Gail's thighs and then the other as she described the way her
mother had spanked her, and noted appreciatively that her legs
parted as I touched her.

        Moving my hand back to her ass, I asked Gail what had
been different about the spankings her stepfather had given her.
One difference, she said, was that he always made her take her
nightgown off, so that she was totally naked.  When he intended
to use his hairbrush, he would sit on the edge of her bed and
make her lie across his lap, just as she was lying across mine
now.  I could imagine the scene perfectly, seeing her naked body
trembling the same way it shuddered fully clothed under my hands
now.  Her stepfather would spank her quickly ten or fifteen times
with his hairbrush, lecture her while her cries subsided, and
then repeat the spanking.  Generally he would do this five or six
times, leaving her with bruises that lasted several days.

        Once he began using his belt instead of the hairbrush,
her stepfather required Gail to kneel on the bed, head down and
bottom up in the air.  She was required to count each lash out
loud, and if she moved the whipping would start over.  Her
stepfather usually gave her ten lashes without stopping, covering
the backs of her thighs as well as her bottom, and then gave her
a minute or two before the next set.  After two or three sets,
especially in the final year or two, he would make her spread her
knees far apart and would lash the insides of her thighs as well
as the backs.  I asked whether her stepfather touched her, with
anything other than his belt, while she was in the spanking
position, and Gail blushed deeply again as she told me he'd never
touched her sexually, although he sometimes prodded her to make
her move to a different position.

        Gail was breathing raggedly as she spoke, the words
tumbling out.  I doubted that she had ever told these stories to
anyone before, and if she had told anyone, I was willing to bet
that the listener hadn't been able to see - as I could - how wet
the crotch of her pants had become.

        "All right, Gail," I told her.  "I think I understand the
significance this has to you.  I'm going to spank you in just a
minute" - I felt her ass harden under my palm - "but first I want
to explain something to you."  She sighed and relaxed.

        "The problem with most voluntary spankings is that the
person being spanked knows how to make it stop.  When you were a
kid, you didn't have that kind of control - your mother or your
stepfather kept on spanking until they were done, no matter
whether you thought you'd had enough or not.  And that's the way
it's going to be when I spank you."

        "But what if -", Gail started to ask in alarm.

        "Wait a minute, let me finish," I said firmly.  "That
doesn't mean you have no say in the matter.  Before I do
anything, I'll tell you what I'm going to do, and we'll agree on
how many you'll get.  If you don't agree, I won't do anything at
all, but once you agree, it will be too late to change your mind,
and I won't stop until the agreed number unless I decide you've
had too many.  Now, how does that sound to you?"

        She was silent for a moment.  "All right, I guess," she
said slowly.  "But what if it just hurts too much?"

        "That's what will make it seem real," I replied.  "And
the next time, if you want, we can agree on a smaller number."

        "O.K.," she said shakily, "I sure hope I don't regret
this."

       "You won't," I assured her.  "Now, since it's been a long
time for you, we'll start very gently.  We'll leave your pants
on, and I'll just use my hand.  How many of those shall I give
you?"

        Gail thought for a moment.  "How about five?" she said
tentatively.

        "How about ten?" I responded.  We settled on seven, and I
shifted her slightly to make sure her ass was directly above my
thigh.  I raised my hand and said, "O.K., here we go!"

        I brought my open palm down sharply on the clenched
muscles of her right asscheek.  Gail expelled her breath swiftly
but made no other sound.  I gave her a matching smack on the left
side, and followed up with another on the left before she could
clench that cheek again.  The seven spanks took only ten seconds
or so, and Gail gave no indication that she found them hard to
take.

        "Those didn't hurt much, did they?  How about fifteen
more?" I asked.

        "O.K.", she answered.  "I think I can handle that."

        I resumed without any warning, and the first swat
provoked a small yelp of surprise.  The last three spanks of that
set elicited short moans, but nothing that sounded as though Gail
were in real pain.

        "All right," I announced, "I think it's time to make
things a little more realistic.  Let's get those pants out of the
way."

        Gail stood up stiffly, unzipped her slacks and pulled
them off.  She looked at me questioningly, obviously wondering if
I intended her to remove her bikini panties as well.

        "Leave those on, for now," I smiled, "but why don't you
take your blouse off and save some time later?"  She had to
realize that meant that I expected all of her clothes to be off
before we finished, but the idea didn't seem to bother her.  She
unbuttoned her blouse and dropped it on top of her slacks.  Then,
wearing only her bra and a pair of pale blue nylon
panties - neither of which left a great deal to my
imagination - she draped herself across my lap again.

        Her bikini panties exposed a lot of skin, and I could see
that her ass was as firm and well-shaped as I'd guessed.  It was
also slightly tinged with pink from the gentle spanking she'd had
so far; it would be pinker after the next set.

        "I'm still going to use my hand," I told her.  "You're
more exposed now, but you've also gotten used to the feeling, so
why don't we start with twenty?"  We settled on fifteen, and I
agreed to warn her before the first.

        I gave her the warning and landed a hard swat in the
middle of her left asscheek, being careful to center the blow
over the nylon-covered area.  The sound echoed loudly and my hand
stung, so I knew her ass did too, but Gail reacted only with a
sharp gasp.  I continued briskly, gradually letting the spanks
land more on bare skin and less on nylon.  She was squirming by
the time I gave her the fifteenth spank, but her movements seemed
more designed to grind her pubic bone against my thigh than to
avoid the force of my slaps.

        We had reached a critical point.  I had to decide whether
to remove the last of Gail's clothing and continue spanking her
by hand, or to introduce her to my toys.  Much as I wanted to see
her totally nude, it seemed to me that she was less likely to
fear my toys if she still had the protection - more psychological
than physical - of her panties when I introduced them, so I told
her to get up and hand me my gym bag.

        I put the bag on the coffee table in front of us and
unzipped it.  Then I told Gail to take everything out.  She
examined each paddle and strap carefully before laying it out on
the coffee table.  When she had finished, I told her to choose
the one she wanted me to use.

        "Couldn't you just spank me some more with your hand?"
she asked.  "I mean, your hand was really starting to sting, and
those things look like they could really hurt."

        "I'll do whatever you want," I told her, "but I think
you're ready for more than just my hand.  You want to see how a
real spanking will feel."

        "I guess you're right."  She selected the lightest paddle
and handed it to me.  It was a good choice.  I knew from personal
experience that it would sting, but any pain would disappear
within a few minutes.

        Gail settled back across my lap but didn't relax the way
she had before.  I stroked her ass and the backs of her thighs,
assuring her that the paddle was only a small step away from the
hand spankings she'd endured so easily.  Most of the tension left
her body, but I could tell that her asscheeks were still tight.
I asked her how many she wanted to start with, and she suggested
five.  I countered with fifteen, and we agreed on ten.  I raised
the paddle and told her to relax; my words, of course, had the
opposite effect.

        I landed the paddle sharply on the panty-covered part of
her right asscheek.  Gail jumped and said "Oh!", but made no
other sound.  Nine more spanks landed quickly.  I alternated from
cheek to cheek, and she jerked each time the paddle landed but
remained silent.

        "Well, what do you think?", I asked after the tenth
stroke.

        "It didn't hurt as much as I'd been afraid it would.  In
fact," she admitted, "it felt good, even better than your hand."

        "I thought you'd say that," I commented.  I was elated,
because I was sure now that she could handle a more extensive
session with any of my toys.  "Let's go a little farther this
time."  Without explaining my comment I rolled her panties down
until they were stretched tight across her thighs, just below the
jutting cheeks of her ass.

        Gooseflesh rippled across the pale skin of her ass as
Gail realized that she was completely unprotected for the first
time.  Her cheeks were a mottled pink, but that color would
disappear within an hour if we stopped now.  "I'll use the same
paddle, but I think you should have 25 this time."

        Gail agreed readily, but clenched her asscheeks together
as I raised the paddle.  I swung it harder this time, landing
blows at random.  With 25 spanks to work with I managed to cover
most of each cheek.  For the first fifteen or so the only sound
was the slapping of the paddle, but then I began to hear an
"Ooh!" or an "Unh!" each time the paddle landed.

        I finished the 25th and Gail sagged against me.  "Oh,
God!" she exclaimed.  "That was starting to remind me of a real
spanking, the kind I used to get!"  Her ass was showing some
redness, but I was sure it would be considerably redder before I
left her apartment.

        I ran my hands appreciatively over her silk-smooth skin.
"Would you like to take a break now, or shall we go ahead with
another step?" I inquired.

        Gail thought for a moment.  "Um, I'd like another drink
in a few minutes, but first -"  She pushed herself up into a
kneeling position, then turned to rummage through the implements
on the coffee table.  Rolled down as they were, her panties still
covered most of her crotch, but it was obvious that she was
either a natural blonde or had a very intimate relationship with
her hairdresser.

        After hefting each of my paddles, Gail chose an oval-
shaped one with leather facings and handed it to me.  "Why don't
you give me, oh, twenty with that one?"  She lowered her body
across my lap, but kept part of her weight on her knees to thrust
her rump upward invitingly.

        "Twenty you shall have," I responded.  I didn't suggest a
larger number, because the paddle she'd chosen was quite a bit
heavier than the first one, and I knew from personal experience
that twenty strokes with that would do more than just "remind"
her of a real spanking.

        I tugged her panties down a little further to create an
unobstructed path to the base of each asscheek and raised the
paddle.  "Ready?", I asked.

        "Ready," she replied confidently.  The right cheek
flattened under the impact of the paddle and she let out a
surprised yelp.  I followed up quickly with another swat on the
left side, then moved back to the right, avoiding the bright red
blotch left by the first stroke.  I wasn't swinging the paddle
with anything like my full strength, but I wasn't being gentle
either, and Gail let me know she was feeling the spanks:  "OW!"
"AAAH!"  "Ouch!"  "Hurts!"  "OH!"

        She was no longer thrusting her ass toward the paddle; I
felt her full weight on my thigh as she rolled from side to side,
trying to make sure she wouldn't get two spanks in a row in the
same spot if I failed to select a new target.  Her ass was
thoroughly reddened by the time I spanked her for the 20th time
and put the paddle down.  She lay panting after I finished, still
rocking slightly from side to side.

        "Wow!", Gail exclaimed at last, "I'm glad I didn't tell
you thirty!"

        I rubbed the burning mounds gently.  "You could have
taken thirty, though, or even forty, you know," I commented.

        Gail got to her feet.  "Oh, I know I could, I can take
lots more than you've given me so far, but I'm glad you've done
it so gradually.  If you had pushed me too fast, I'd be afraid to
try any thing more."  She collected our glasses and walked into
the kitchen, the rolled strand of sky blue nylon around her
thighs contrasting dramatically with the bright red of her
bottom.

        She was back a couple of minutes later, with fresh drinks
for both of us.  She sat down on the sofa and we talked for
several minutes.  I asked how she felt about what we'd done so
far.  She said that the last set were the only spanks that had
hurt while she was getting them, and that now she felt very
tingly and excited; she hoped I wasn't going to stop now.

        I assured her that I wasn't going to stop, and as we
finished our drinks I told her I thought the time had come for
her to go in her bedroom and put on her nightgown, and I would
meet her there in a few minutes.  Gail got to her feet and
started for the bedroom.

       "Wait," I told her.  I surveyed the instruments on the
coffee table and decided on the strip of Lucite; it was a little
more than an inch wide, a quarter of an inch thick and about 18
inches long.  It was more like her mother's yardstick than
anything else I had, although the Lucite was heavier than wood.

        "When I come in," I continued, "I'm going to give you 25
with this."  I held up the clear plastic strip.  "You can think
about how that's going to feel while you're changing."

        Gail swallowed hard, then nodded and turned back toward
her bedroom.  I waited until I heard a toilet flush and a door
open and another one close, then went in search of the bathroom
myself--four drinks had made the need rather urgent.  While I was
in there I opened a drawer and found the package I'd expected.  I
pocketed one of the items in it, then went back to the living
room.  I repacked my gym bag and sat down to wait.

        After giving Gail ten minutes to change and have second
thoughts if she wanted to, I picked up the Lucite strip and the
gym bag and walked to her bedroom.  The door was ajar and I
pushed it open and went in, then closed the door and locked it
behind me.  Gail was lying face down with most of her legs
hanging off the foot of the bed.  She was wearing a pale blue
nightgown, the same color as her panties, but the nightgown was
short enough to make it obvious that she was no longer wearing
the panties.  Her legs were spread slightly and I could feel
myself getting hard as I gazed at the honey-colored thatch
revealed by the short gown.

        I walked over to the bed put the gym bag on the floor
next to it.  Without a word I pulled the nightgown up until the
hem crossed the middle of her back.  Gail spread her legs a
little wider and clenched the cheeks of her magnificent ass.  The
redness had faded to a uniform shade of pink.

        "Are you ready for the 25 I promised you?" I demanded.

        "Yes," she almost whispered.

        "All right.  Remember, now, if you move I'll start over,"
I warned.  The muscles in her arms tightened as she grabbed the
bedspread with both hands.

        I raised the Lucite strip and brought it down quickly
across the fullest part of both cheeks.  Gail gave a sharp yelp
of pain, the loudest sound she'd made yet.  I swatted her again,
lower on the right cheek, and settled into a rhythm of one spank
about every second and a half.  Gail didn't move but she gave
some kind of cry as each stroke landed.

        "Oh!  Ow!  Aaah!  Ouch!  Please!  Mama!  Oooh!  Hurts!"
Her cries became louder but less coherent as I gave her last
seven or eight spanks, but still she made no effort to move or
dodge the plastic strip.

        By the time I finished her arms were trembling from the
effort she was putting into clutching the bedspread and her ass
was criss-crossed with straight-sided red blotches, but the outer
lips of her pussy were glistening.  I laid the Lucite paddle down
and sat down next to Gail's prone figure.  I stroked her ass
gently, and she moaned and relaxed her grip on the bedspread as
her legs moved even further apart.  I continued rubbing the
overheated mounds of firm flesh but declined the clear invitation
to slide my hand between her legs; that could come later, if she
really wanted it.

        "Oh, yes," she sighed, "your hand feels so good!  I wish
my mom had rubbed me like that after a spanking."

        "Did that feel like the real thing?" I asked.

        "It did, and then again it didn't.  I mean, it really
hurt, just like the spankings I used to get, and yet it wasn't
unbearable the way they used to be.  Maybe it was because I knew
when you were going to stop, but you really got me excited."

        The glistening lips of her pussy, and the expanding wet
spot on the bedspread beneath Gail's crotch, proved the accuracy
of that statement.  My engorged cock threatened to tear through
the front of my slacks, and I stood up to ease the pressure.

        "All right," I told her, "I think its time you got a real
strapping.  Take your nightgown off and kneel on the bed."

        I turned away to find my gym bag and selected the
heaviest leather strap.  It was a little narrower than the razor
strap that I'd experienced as a kid, but it was both thick and
supple, and I was sure it would get Gail's undivided attention.

        By the time I turned back to the bed, Gail was nude and
kneeling in the position she'd described earlier.  With her head
and shoulders on the bed, her distended nipples grazed the
bedspread despite the firmness of her breasts.  Her knees were
clenched tightly together, but even so the swollen lips of her
pussy protruded between her tanned thighs.

        I showed her the leather strap.  "To start with, I'm
going to give you ten strokes with this; is that what you want?"

        She nodded mutely, and I saw the muscles of her ass
tighten involuntarily.

        "You know how it works," I reminded her.  "You count each
stroke out loud.  If you don't count, neither does the stroke,
and if you move, we'll start over.  Is that clear?"

        Again she bobbed her head wordlessly.  I still had a
raging hard-on, and Gail's dripping pussy was like a bull's eye
in the middle of the beautiful target in front of me, but I knew
she wouldn't be satisfied until she'd relived one of her
stepfather's strappings.

        I took half a step backward and raised the strap.  Using
a side-arm motion I swung it, medium-hard, so that the last four
or five inches of the leather landed low on the outside of Gail's
right asscheek.  Gail swayed to her left and let out her first
real scream of pain, but she didn't forget to gasp out a "one!"
I landed the strap again, this time in the middle of the right
cheek, provoking another yell and a strangled "two!"

        The third and forth lashes landed on the left cheek,
requiring a backhanded motion.  I may not have been able to swing
the strap with quite the same force, but each blow left the kind
of wide crimson stripe that the forehand strokes had.  The next
four, administered about two seconds apart, descended diagonally,
landing near the top of one cheek and cutting across to end low
on the other cheek.  The final two I placed across the backs of
Gail's thighs, resulting in cries of real agony - but except for
swaying from side to side, she never moved and never missed in
her counting.

        Laying the strap down, I knelt on the bed beside Gail.
She leaned against me and moaned as I stroked her blazing ass.
The backs of her thighs were wet and slippery with the juices
from her pussy, and I was ready to stop the spanking and plunge
my fingers into her hot tunnel.  She stiffened as my hand brushed
her outer lips, though, and whispered "No, I want the rest!"

        I stood up and Gail spread her knees far apart, arching
her back to keep her ass high in the air.  Her tumescent clit
jutted from between puffy labia as I picked up the leather strap.
She obviously wanted a real strapping, and I would give her one.

        "This time you're going to get twenty," I told her, "and
if you move I'll start over from the beginning - including the
ten you've already had.  Are you ready?"

        I waited for her to nod, then swung the strap - hard.  As
I had intended, the last few inches of the strap smacked into the
inside of her left thigh, just below the gaping lips of her
pussy.  A thin scream forced its way past Gail's clenched teeth,
but she stayed in position.  A backhand stroke left a broad
matching welt on the inside of her right thigh, and again Gail
cried out but didn't move.

        Spacing the strokes about five seconds apart, I proceeded
to lash Gail's ass and the backs and insides of her thighs.  By
the time I'd given her ten she had arched her back even further,
thrusting her hips higher into the air and rolling them from side
to side each time the strap landed.  By the twentieth, all of her
skin that was visible, from just above her knees to the tops of
her asscheeks was a nearly uniform fiery red, streaked with her
pussy juices that the strap had spread.

        I dropped the strap on the floor and started gently to
stroke Gail's blazing skin.  She moaned and shuddered.  "Please,"
she whispered urgently, "fuck me, hurry, please!"

        I needed no urging.  Stepping out of my shoes, I loosened
my belt and pulled my slacks and jockey shorts off with one hand,
while retrieving and unwrapping the condom I'd found in Gail's
bathroom with the other hand.  I rolled the condom onto my
throbbing prick and slid it into her waiting pussy.

        She came the first time almost instantly, and shared my
orgasm only a minute or two later.  As her second orgasm passed
Gail collapsed forward on the bed and I sank down on her back,
still trapped in her pussy and gasping for breath as she was.  I
kissed the back of her neck, her shoulder blades, her ears,
feeling the hot cheeks of her ass pressed hard against the front
of my thighs.

        A few minutes later I clambered to my feet and staggered
into the bathroom, where I found a pump bottle of skin lotion and
palmed another condom.  Gail was still lying face down on the bed
when I came back and began rubbing lotion gently into her bruised
skin.  Within a few minutes we were both thoroughly aroused
again.  Gail rolled the condom into place this time, and we made
love slowly and tenderly, face to face with Gail on top.

        Afterward, as we lay half waking and half sleeping, Gail
murmured "I hope we can do this again."

        "Which do you mean?" I asked, "the spanking or the love-
making."

        "Both," she sighed.  "I mean, I wouldn't want to be
spanked every time I made love, but I've never felt anything like
I felt when you first slid inside me.  I guess I've wanted to be
spanked and fucked for a long time."

        "I've waited a long time to find someone who wanted to be
spanked," I told her, "and I'm really glad it turns you on.  Just
looking at you turns me on, and I'd never want to hurt you."

        "Oh, you didn't, at least no more than I wanted.  Next
time, though, I'd like to start in here and forget the
preliminaries.  There will be a next time, won't there?"

        I assured her that there would be as many next times as
she wanted.