After Party
Page 1
AFTER PARTY
A collection of five spanking stories
Edited by Miranda Forbes
ISBN 9781908006523
Copyright © Accent Press Ltd 2010
All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic, electrostatic, magnetic tape, mechanical, photocopying, recording or otherwise, without the written permission of the publishers: Xcite Books, 145-157 St John Street, London EC1V 4PY
These stories were originally published in Naughty Spanking Two
Published by Accent Press Ltd
ISBN 9781906125899
Contents
After Party Cyanne
“But I Meant To Pay For It!” Teresa Joseph
Merrilee Gets Into Trouble In The Park Eleanor Powell
Ev'rybody Get Together Landon Dixon
Mr O'Connor's Office Ava Rose Johnson
After Party
by Cyanne
It’s always the same at the end of a party. A handful of people who just want one more line, one more drink, to hear that tune again, and that night was no exception.
Me, my boyfriend Dan, and our mate Nathan, the clock striking three and some wine left in the bottle that we just couldn’t leave. Red wine always makes me horny, and as the boys were discussing their cars my eyes and mind wandered. From Dan’s full lips, his broad shoulders, his big brown hands, to Nathan’s cocky open-legged stance, his floppy fringe, the fact that his girlfriend Mel was in Mexico and he must be missing her …
Earlier that evening Dan and I had had to abandon our quickie as everyone started arriving. All night I had been knickerless, wet, and waiting. Waiting for my chance to get Dan on his own in the bathroom or sneak off to our bedroom to finish what we’d started, but now other ideas were creeping in.
I remember discussing with a girl-friend the theory that almost everyone is up for group sex, but very few people are prepared to initiate it. As I sipped my wine and let my eyes linger over the two guys I thought back to the conversation and it seemed to make sense. I felt a twinge in my pussy as I imagined tangling with these two men. Dan’s strong, knowing touch, and the excitement of Nathan touching me for the first time, arms and legs everywhere, being surrounded and enveloped by male bodies, four hands all over me, two voices, two mouths.
I had always had a soft spot for Nathan which I was pretty sure was reciprocated, and Dan’s pretty open-minded, how hard could it be? I caught Nathan’s eye and gave him my best come on look, which he replied to with a cheeky wink. I held his gaze and started to kiss Dan on the neck, the cheek, and then deeply on the lips, stroking my hand up his chest. Dan laughed warmly and threw his arm around me.
Upping my game a bit, I straddled Dan, pushing him back on the sofa and kissing him hard. “I think someone wants you to take her to bed, mate,” Nathan laughed from the other sofa.
“You can come too if you want,” I said, trying to make it sound like a joke.
Dan laughed and hit me gently on the bum, “Jen! Behave! Too much bloody wine, God knows what you’re like when I’m not around.”
Nathan was looking at me intently. I just smiled.
Draining his glass, Dan stood up and stretched, “That’s me I think, you alright crashing down here Nath? Help yourself to breakfast if I’m not up.”
At least I was finally getting to finish what I’d started with Dan even if it didn’t look like I’d be getting the attentions of two men tonight. I walked up the stairs in front of him. My dress wasn’t that short but, ever the exhibitionist, I wriggled it up a bit to make sure he got a good view. He slipped his hand up under my arse and let his fingers graze my lips as I walked. Heavenly.
As we reached the top of the stairs I was already close to orgasm. Stumbling into the bedroom in a flurry of lust and clothes I fell back on the bed, my dress up round my waist and my pussy offered up to Dan, whose jeans were bulging nicely. He watched me as I toyed with my clit and lips, rubbing himself through his jeans.
My mobile was in its usual place beside the bed and I saw my chance as Dan was fumbling around looking for a new box of condoms. New message. ‘Want 2 watch?’ Send. Nathan Mobile. Message sent.
I heard footsteps on the wooden floor almost instantly. Any panic I felt was quickly superseded by excitement. I love being watched, being admired, and, if I’m honest, being wanked over.
Dan stretched out on his back, his feet, thankfully, towards the door. The landing was pitch black but the dim light in the bedroom just reflected Nathan’s eyes as they appeared in the small gap. I had to be careful, if this went wrong it could be disastrous.
Enjoying the feeling of wearing a dress with no knickers I kept it on, and started to unzip Dan, his cock bursting to get out of his jeans. I bent over and took him in my mouth, letting him slide my dress up over my arse to get a better view. He loves eating pussy more than any man I’ve ever met and gently pulled me round till I sat over his face while I was sucking him off. He pressed his lips to me so gently that I cried out, and sat up off his cock arching my back and pulling down the front of my dress to show Nathan my tits. I ground myself against Dan’s gorgeous lips, rubbing my nipples and pushing my breasts up. I came in a flash, overwhelmed by the combination of perfect oral and filthy showing off.
Dan’s cock was glistening rock hard and I licked his pre-come gently as he unwrapped the condom. I glanced towards Nathan, and saw in the darkness the unmistakable glint of his cock as he rubbed it, and could just make out his quickening breathing. I turned towards him as I pulled off my dress, knowing how slutty I looked wearing nothing but a quarter cup blue and black bra which my tits were spilling out of, my heavy party make up smudged, and my thighs slick with wetness. I climbed onto Dan, facing his feet (and the door), and edged down onto his cock, his hands grasping my waist, hips bucking as he ached to get inside me. I blushed at how much I was showing, with my legs open wide and Dan’s cock pushing into me.
As we got into rhythm I got bolder, varying my position to show Nathan what he was missing and change the pressure on Dan’s cock, sitting up and coquettishly crossing my legs, laying back on Dan’s chest and rubbing my clit, fondling his balls, pulling my hair up, arching and rubbing my breasts. As Dan got closer to his climax he became more dominant, pushing me forward so I was splayed towards his legs, and with licked fingers started to tease my arse. I screamed out in pleasure, and in shame, not only was he doing that to me, but someone was watching! Dan groaned, unable to hold back any more and easily got off his back pushing me forward onto my front then up onto my knees, my head low on the bed. In this position he had a clear view of the door, it could all go wrong, but I was past caring. He started fucking me hard, a finger inside my ass as he pushed me lower on the bed with the other hand. I orgasmed in a fountain of sweat, juices and tears, screaming out and thrashing under Dan’s strong hand as he came with a last hard thrust.
I sheepishly looked towards the door. The two greenish glints in the darkness briefly became one, Nathan’s trademark wink, then were gone. Dan snapped the condom off and gathered me up in his arms, tenderly wiping a streak of mascara from my cheek and stroking my hair. I felt so satisfied, my legs shaking and my skin flushed, safe in Dan’s embrace. Guilt started to creep in as I looked at his beautiful face settling down to sleep. It was one of the horniest moments of my life, I thought, being fucked so perfectly, and showing off to another man, but it wasn’t really fair to Dan. I was starting to feel terrible, and worry about the morning and what Nathan might say or do. He could make my life very difficult if he wanted to. My relationship could be in jeopardy.
I felt Dan’s gaze on me, he was still awake and looking at me. Then he grinned. “Did you really think I wouldn’t notice?”
“You drunk tart,’ he said, ‘I saw you send the message! Seriously, you’re about as subtle …” I started to apologise and mumble all kinds of nonsense, but thankfully he was laughing.
“Honey, really, do you think I didn’t enjoy being the one actually fucking you with him standing there tossing off wishing it was him?”
I couldn’t believe what I was hearing; I had a surge of love for Dan for how cool he was being, as well as how amazing in bed, and tried to snuggle into him.
“I don’t think so,” he said, just failing to keep the playful smile out of his eyes. “I liked it as much as you did, but you’re still a dirty little tart, I don’t think you deserve a cuddle. Get up on your knees.”
I tried to laugh and he just looked at me sternly, only half playing. I gingerly got up onto my knees, kneeling up, facing him, chancing a little half smile.
“Other way around,” he said, patronisingly twirling his finger in front of my face. I shuffled around and he pushed me forwards so I was on all fours, smoothing his hand over my arse. I knew what was coming, he’d spanked me once before in a hotel room for not wearing any knickers under my dress. I winced at the anticipation of pain, but he just kept stroking me gently. I was still wet from before and I felt my pussy starting to respond again, if he did much more of that I was going to start to drip.
I couldn’t see what he was doing but I heard him scuffling around in the drawers again. I reached between my legs and stroked my clit, which was engorged and delicious, the slightest touch making me catch me breath. He was behind me again and roughly slapped my hand away.
I felt a cold, wet slick land on my lower back, and drizzle all over my bum and down my legs. He had managed to find a bottle of lube in the bedside drawer and had covered me in about half a bottle! I turned around to laugh and ask him what he was playing at but he pushed my head back away from him and my face into the bed, roughly enough for me to know that he meant it, but gently enough not to hurt, and started to rub the slippery gel all over me.
His hands massaged my cheeks, grabbing handfuls of flesh and letting it slip wetly out of his grip again, and running his hands down onto my thighs, grazing my pussy and arsehole every few strokes but not as much as I wanted.
The first slap stunned me. My skin was alive and tingling and his hand landed with a big wet smack across my buttocks, the sudden force and the streak of pain a climax in itself. After that the lightest touch would send me over the edge and I physically begged him to touch me, pushing backwards so he could see how ready I was.
He hit me again, one side, then the other, and again, and again, and I heard him groan and knew how much my shiny wet flesh quivering and reddening would be getting to him. It stung, and a million feelings coursed through my body and mind. I wanted another spank, but I was equally afraid of the next blow landing. I wanted him to lick me, to fuck me right now, but I never wanted this to end.
Dan’s fingers were on me gently again, tracing up my thighs towards my soaking pussy, but his touch skimmed past and he instead pushed the tip of his finger into my bum. I melted, and tried to rock backwards to have him penetrate me more but he pulled his hand away and spanked me again.
As if I wasn’t soaking enough, the bottle came back out and he squeezed yet more lube over me. I felt his cock slide up between my legs, deliciously over my clit, and just inside my pussy for a second before he pulled out and pushed into my arse. I screamed out as the feelings overwhelmed me. He thrusted perfectly, just a couple of inches inside me, his body rubbing and exacerbating my reddened bum and legs with every thrust. Dan reached around my waist and found my clit, dripping with lube and juices, and rubbed it with his palm, slowing his thrusts but going deeper and I came hard, jerking violently. My orgasm tipped him over the edge and he came inside me, pulling me close to him and kissing my back.
We collapsed in a sticky tangle and fell asleep almost straight away. The next morning I was sore. I looked myself over in the mirror, and smiled at the sight of Dan still sleeping soundly in the background. My makeup was a mess, my hair a disaster, and my bum and legs were bright red, with bruises just starting to form. I wrapped myself in my big, fluffy dressing gown and kissed Dan on the forehead, steeling myself to survey the state of the house after the party and wondered what Nathan might have to say. I didn’t really have to worry though – if he got cheeky, I would just tell him he missed the best bit of the party anyway.
“But I Meant To Pay For It!”
by Teresa Joseph
As Mrs Chantelle Templeton was escorted to the manager’s office, it was all that the poor woman could do to keep herself from bursting into tears.
She had tried to explain that she must have absentmindedly put the bottle of vodka into her handbag whilst she looked for her purse, but of course, the security guard had heard it all before.
It was all a terrible mistake. She’d never steal anything! She was a respected pillar of the community, a devoted wife, member of the parish council and treasurer of the local Christian women’s association. If the fact that she was being arrested for shoplifting, for stealing vodka no less, ever got out, then her reputation would be completely destroyed. If only the security guard had been a man, she might have considered showing a bit of leg in return for his turning a blind eye. It would have worked, but unless this woman was a lesbian, it didn’t look like anything was going to go her way that day.
For all her prim and proper suburban reserve, the fact was that despite being nearly thirty, Chantelle was still very attractive. Tall and slim with a gorgeous figure, if only she’d stopped dressing like such a fuddy-duddy and let her long chestnut hair down once in a while she would have been a real show stopper; more than enough to talk her way out of a little misunderstanding like this. As the situation stood though, she had to endure the public humiliation of being marched past the tills to the manager’s office by a life size ‘security guard Barbie’ who was probably only just out of school. Then, to add insult to injury, her next door neighbour, Mrs Robins was stood in one of the queues, and though she tried to cover her face, Chantelle was sure that she’d been spotted.
“I can explain everything,” blurted Chantelle as she was led into the office, baring her soul to the woman who sat behind the desk. “It was an honest mistake. I must have put it in my handbag when I …”
“What, so you’re not going to blame it on PMT, then, are you, madam?” interrupted the manager sarcastically. “Do you have any idea how many times we hear that in one day? The fact is, whether by stupidity or design, you left a shop with a £27 bottle of vodka concealed in your purse without making any attempt to purchase it. Anything else is a matter for the police.”
“Please no!” said Chantelle, leaping forward to stop the manager from picking up the phone. Then looking down at the name bar on the desk, she made a feeble attempt to connect with her. “Look … Ms Crosby. Surely there must be some other way to settle this?”
The manager pondered for a moment.
“Sonia,” she said finally, addressing the security guard. “You can go back to work now, I’ll handle it from here.” And as Sonia left, closing the door behind her, the two ladies looked at each other for a moment as if they were each waiting for the other to blink.
The manager sat thoughtfully in her leather swivel chair, the very embodiment of calm; resting her fingertips together as she decided whether or not to give this haughty little mare a second chance.
Wearing a well-tailored two piece navy blue skirt suit, white blouse, opaque tights and black court shoes, she was as smart and well groomed as the woman who stood before her. But whilst Ms Crosby kept her long red hair in a bun to denote her authority, this woman who stood awkwardly before her with her hands in her lap did so solely to impress the neighbours.
Yvette Crosby hated women like this. She was dressed like it was 1958 in a ‘lady-like’ calf-length skirt and white cotton blouse, pearls and four i
nch black stilettos. They were nearly the same age, but whilst Yvette had climbed the ladder and been put in charge of a large supermarket, this woman’s highest achievement was probably getting a new kitchen before anyone else in her street. As far as Yvette was concerned, this type of woman’s entire life could be summed up with one phrase; ‘dull women have immaculate houses’.
Smiling politely, Yvette decided to have some fun and hold out an olive branch for the little tealeaf.
“Well, Mrs Templeton, is it? If you feel that it’s not necessary for the police to get involved, then I’m sure that we can come to some sort of an arrangement.”
Chantelle felt her heartbeat return to normal as a wave of relief washed over her. She was just about to thank Ms Crosby when the manager issued her terms.
“Let your hair down, take off your skirt and your knickers and lay yourself across my knee.”
Chantelle stared in disbelief. Had she heard her correctly?
“Let your hair down, take your skirt and knickers off and lay across my knee,” reiterated the manager, speaking slowly and clearly, as if patronising a wayward toddler.
Chantelle obviously refused. There was no way that this cow was going to treat her like a twelve-year-old. But of course, the second that the manager reached for the phone to call the police, the steadfast, prim and proper housewife couldn’t get her knickers off fast enough.
Naked from the waist down, Chantelle then delicately lay across the manager’s knee, resting her hands on the floor and presenting her firm ripe bottom to Yvette like a trophy.
“Now I understand that you are going to have to spank me,” she stuttered nervously, brushing her chestnut long hair out of the way and looking over her shoulder at Yvette. “But I must insist that you …Oww.”
“Quiet you pilfering cow!” snapped the manager, obviously losing her patience with her. “You’re in no position to make demands. So stay quiet and take what’s coming to you. And don’t be such a baby. I only gave you a little smack and there’s plenty more where that came from.”