by Megan McCoy
Okay, fine I had a pretty good idea, and when his hand slipped down my shirt, I sighed in happiness.
“No bra?” he asked, surprised.
“It’s called a chemise!” I told him haughtily. “No need to wear a bra with one! Well,” I paused, giving him a seductive smile, “at least no need when you know someone might fling it out the window anyway.”
“When have I ever done that?” His fingers found my nipple and he stroked in ever widening circles as my back arched toward those magical fingers. What the man did to me was amazing. He no sooner touched me than I began breathing hard and desiring him, getting wet and wiggly and wanting.
So generously, he kept stroking me, and I decided it was time to return the favor.
Why did men always wear belts? They’re a nuisance, in the way, and hard to get undone with one hand in the car when they were seated. But, I struggled valiantly until I got it undone. Then there was the button on his jeans. Then the zipper. Oh hell, it might as well been a chastity belt.
But finally.
“No underwear?” I asked.
“It’s called commando,” he said in my haughty tone, and I giggled while I pulled his growing shaft from his pants before it got stuck in there and hurt itself. I was just helping! Doing a favor for a friend!
Oh! But, maybe he did get hurt. I should kiss it and make it better. It would be the least I could do.
So I did. Yum.
I love a scenic drive, and he had the biggest loveliest scene in or out of his pants that I’d ever seen. Huge darling head, thick and large, and he just glistened in certain lights with certain juices all over it. How could you not be in love with it? I was, oh yes.
We drove down the road for about an hour, with me alternately slurping, sucking, licking, wiggling, and enjoying while he steered the car and occasionally said, “Up!”
I knew he wasn’t talking about himself, but me. So anytime I heard, “Up,” I’d pop up and cover his wet parts with my hand while the truck passed us, or the car drove by, and we both whistled the theme to Andy Griffith, badly, and looked oh so very innocent. Us? Doing nothing untoward, nothing going on here! We were just driving down the road like everyone else.
I often wondered how many other people were doing the same thing. More than we thought, I imagined. I hoped they were all as happy and enjoying life as much as we were that day.
Finally, there came a point when my bottom couldn’t stop wiggling, I couldn’t stop slurping, and he pulled over. I stopped sucking and licking long enough to look up. “Out of the car,” he said.
“Here?” I asked foolishly.
“Now,” he said, and I shivered in delight. I loved that commanding tone he only got when we were having sex. It turned me on insanely.
“All right,” I said agreeably, grabbing the handily convenient towel that I’d packed. My knees were already shaking, and my lust button had been turned to high. He had better be planning to do me soon.
He was.
I opened my car door at the same time he opened his, and stepped out into thick green grass. Birds scolded us cheerily as the sun beamed warm rays. Here? I wondered… hoped. Outside. I could get a tan on places never usually exposed to sun! I stretched quickly, and couldn’t help the silly grin. This was going to be fun. Shenanigans! That’s what we called it, making love in new places. I loved shenanigans.
We met at the back of the car, and he picked me up, settling me on the trunk, and smiled at me, while I shivered with want and need. My legs wrapped around his waist and I pulled him close with all four limbs.
Kissing him was ambrosia. He tasted of peppermint and male. His tongue commanded and demanded, and all I could do was hold on and whimper. I could do this all day, or… his mouth went to my neck and then dipped lower.
“Show me my girls,” he said, and I couldn’t pull my shirt open fast enough. Taking a deep panting breath, I inhaled warm country dirt, and hot needing male. My two favorite smells.
“Please,” I arched for his mouth as he laved, and kissed, and suckled, and kneaded, and I begged, and twisted, and wanted only more. I felt tingles all the way down to my clit, and could feel my pussy start throbbing. I was soaking my panties. The car metal under my butt was heating up as fast as my entire body.
“I want,” I started but just threw back my head and aimed my boob toward his mouth, and my mouth couldn’t do anything else but moan delightedly.
He suckled and pulled and I needed more. More mouth, more him. Him in me.
“Now!” I gasped out finally. “Please!”
“You ready?” he asked, teasing. I mean really, if he couldn’t tell….
Trembling with want and need, I slid off the trunk and fought with the button on my jeans, trying to get them off, down, away. No barriers between me and him, skin to skin. My fingers fumbled. What he did to me. Always. All my motor skills failed.
But his hands found the button and very quickly they were at my ankles and his fingers stroked and rubbed as he coaxed even more lubrication from me. “Yum, juicy,” he said, as he twirled me around and I could barely breathe as my stomach hit the trunk and he bent me over.
I spread my legs and went up on my tiptoes—we fit each other well. Once he got in, anyway.
Rubbing his shaft up and down between my nether lips, he lubed his shaft and pushed his way gently inside. As always, I loved feeling the stretch of him, how he filled me, deep and wide. “So wet,” he whispered.
“For you, always,” I gasped as he began to move. I loved the feeling of him coming in from behind. Everything intensified for us both, as he moved quicker and quicker and my eyes closed as I could feel the throbs begin. It wouldn’t take long this time.
Banging hard against me, I stretched out, enjoying the heat of the car, loving the feel of man in me, panting with the buildup of sensations inside of me. My exposed breasts felt warm against the metal. I opened my eyes, turned my head to the tree line, and imagined being a branch, leafing out, more and more, I began to tremble and had to shut my eyes again. The better to feel you with, I thought. I couldn’t get enough of the feel of him—on me, in me, over me, behind me. His touches. Yum.
Hearing his familiar ‘almost there’ sound, I gave in, shuddered and cried out with my own release, and felt him shoot, warm and wet inside me. Oh, my favorite.
I collapsed against the trunk lid, ready for some post cumming petting and cuddling. He was so good at that. I craved his pets and snuggles and sweet words.
Then, “Crap.”
“Excuse me?” That was not his usual comment. “Wasn’t any good for you?”
“Truck coming,” he pulled out of me and wiped dry quickly, then tossed me the towel as I scrambled my pants up and ran for the car door, pulling my shirt together, and noticed him doing the same. We were barely inside when he started the car, slammed the door, threw it in gear, and started driving out from the glade.
“It’s a one lane path!” I laughed. “What are we going to do?”
“Be polite,” he grinned, and pulled over as far as he could and inched his way along as the truck got nearer.
I blushed. “Think he saw us out of the car?”
My question was soon answered as we rolled slowly by the truck. The farmer’s passenger window was down and we clearly heard him shout, “You kids get a room!”
We broke up into hysterical laughter as we drove on.
* * * * *
Daydreaming of that fantastic sex and our happy times, I concentrated on that thought, reflecting on the fun, and smiling. We had the best times together. Even though I remembered, understood, and agreed with my reasons for breaking up with him, I sometimes missed Cole so much.
It seemed almost impossible that I was here in this place now. Meeting a stranger, and coming for such needed discipline. It was just insane almost and yes, so very weird. But people did weirder things. I had thought over the last week, what if I’d stayed with Cole, and did this on the side? Why hadn’t I thought of that while I was wit
h him?
Well, I probably wouldn’t have done it. Who would want another male touching them when they were in a relationship with Cole? Not this girl. So it wouldn’t have happened. No having cake and eating it.
Right now, all I wanted was Cole. I missed his smile, his laugh, his hands, the way he touched and handled me, his smell, and I ached for him so badly at that moment that I almost sobbed.
So really, when I knocked on the little cabin door, and he opened it, I was almost expecting him.
But. Still. Life does not work this way.
My mouth fell open. “Dammit! Cole?”
“Miki? What the hell!”
The look on his face probably matched mine. Confusion.
Then a dawning realization and we both burst out laughing at the same time. A weird reaction? Maybe it was, but it seemed the thing to do.
He took my arm and pulled me into the room. All my butterflies had suddenly disappeared, but an extremely awkward feeling came over me. He pulled me into a hug, and it seemed so natural and so very right. I felt as if I’d come home. Then I felt very strange and pulled away.
“So… um…” I stammered, mouth suddenly dry, looking up into his much beloved and very familiar face. “Anything you want to tell me about? Any little secrets or anything I might not have known in the year we dated?”
He grinned that oh-so-sexy grin at me, and seemed much calmer than the situation called for. But I knew him well enough to know he certainly felt equally as shocked and surprised. “Maybe. How about you?”
I just stood and stared into his gorgeous hazel brown eyes, noticed his hair was a bit longer, and realized I approved, and couldn’t think of anything to say. “I don’t know….” I trailed off. Then realization dawned. “Oh, Cole Jonathon. Mentor John. I see. Sneaky, aren’t you?” Shaking my head hard, I tried to get my brain to resume its natural position, pop back in place and, perhaps, maybe, work or something as I repeated, “I don’t know…” See! It worked! Brilliance!
“You don’t know that you came here to get some guidance and a good whupping?” he prompted.
“I didn’t know it would be from you,” I wailed. “You never once—”
“Neither did you,” he said.
“So you are really Mentor John? You do this sometimes?”
“Yeah, I am, and yeah, I do. Well, I used to. But I quit before I met you. It’s a long story.”
We stared at each other for a long minute, then speaking almost in unison, “How come you never told me?”
“What?” Again a duet. We are so articulate, the two of us. It’s almost like we belong together.
I had no clue why I was suddenly so turned on. I’d broken up with him over eight months ago, hadn’t seen him since, and he’d not tried to contact me. He was just too sweet for me. I needed a man with backbone and gumption and—
Oh.
Wait.
Um….
Then a thought occurred to me. Was this a set up? Would he do that?
Suspiciously, I asked. “Have you been stalking me on line?” He certainly had the skills to do that if he wanted.
“Huh? No. Shall I ask the same?” he said, not as suspiciously as I had asked.
“What? No,” I replied. “What’s going on here?” My mind raced, but stood still. I had no clue about who this oh so familiar man standing in front of me with an evil grin and dancing eyes could possibly be. He went out and spanked people? How come he had never spanked me? He would meet strangers? Did? How often while we were together?
Damn, he looked good. Damn, I’d missed him. Damn, I’d better watch saying damn out loud. Mentor John had mentioned he didn’t like cussing.
Was I sure he hadn’t set this up? How could he have? I had a new email, just for playtime, and hadn’t been on the site where we met, when we were together.
Who knows?
Who cares? He was here. I was with him. Oh, I’d missed that. Missed him. Missed everything about him, so very much.
“You been okay?” I asked him, hungry for more details than the state of his health.
“Not bad. You?”
“Crappy, obviously,” I pointed out, deliberately not rolling my eyes at his obtuseness.
Duh. Men. Why would I be meeting someone for a paddling if I were just fine and dandy? For the sheer joy of butt pain? I didn’t think so.
“Oh.” He said. “I guess I know that, don’t I?”
I suddenly realized all the details I’d given in our online chats. Yeah. He knew more about my life, post break up, than I knew about his.
Oh. He knew how I’d screwed up my life since I’d left. I blushed. Did he think I screwed up because I missed him? Was he disappointed in me? Now that he knew it was me? What did he think about me?
I was too focused on me, I decided, and needed, some time and some breathing room.
Besides, I wanted to look at him. The man always looked fine. He’d grown out his dark hair some, and I liked it. I also liked the stubble on his jaw. I always had. Yum. His muscles looked as if he’d been spending some time at the gym.
I shivered thinking of those arms around me, pumping on either side of my body.
Oh, merciful heavens, I needed to catch my breath. I needed to sit quietly and regroup. I needed, “Give me the short version of your long story,” I suggested, deliberately putting some distance between us as I walked over and sat in one of the easy chairs.
He nodded. “Okay, then you’ll give me your side of this, and then I’ll paddle that cute butt like I’ve wanted to so many times.”
Sigh. Yeah, that. I’d almost forgotten why we were there.
He hadn’t.
I really hadn’t, either.
Chapter Three
Cole took a deep breath and I admired his chest. Yes, he had a shirt on, black long sleeved t-shirt, but I knew what was underneath it. Okay, in reality, I was admiring my memory of curling up against that chest, happily exhausted and purring madly. A good one, it was, oh yes.
But then I focused on his words. No, it wasn’t easy in my state of mind! Thank you for noticing!
“I’ve always known I had a fascination with spanking. I’m one of those,” he started.
“Always?” I interrupted.
“I thought you wanted the short version,” he said, laughing.
“Sort of, I guess,” I mumbled and tried harder to keep my mouth shut, as he continued.
“So, yeah. One of the dad’s in the neighborhood I grew up in, was always running out of the house and grabbing one or more of his six kids and swatting their butts three or four times, right there on the street, for whatever transgression they were doing. I got so I looked forward to waiting on that to happen again just a little too impatiently while we were playing. So sometimes, I’d help the process along by encouraging misbehavior,” he grinned at me while my mind raced.
My Cole? My sweet, adorable, never gets upset, wonderful, sap of a boyfriend, used to try to get his neighbors in trouble? To watch their butts get paddled?
“How old were you?” I asked.
“Eight, ten, maybe,” he shrugged. “But the very second I hit puberty and understood some things, I wanted to be the spanker, but not of any kids. I found my high school girl friends were mostly very willing to go over my knee and get their skirts lifted and their bottoms paddled. I had all the dates I could handle once word got out.”
“Really?” I gasped out. “They wanted their… they wanted you to… and you…” Why this shocked me, why this made me jealous, why I was suddenly upset and… oh, he was talking again!
“I’m telling the short version, Miki. You asked,” he settled on a chair he’d pulled out from under the desk and motioned for me to get up from the easy chair, and sit on the bed. Why? I don’t know but I obeyed.
Obeyed? Where had that come from?
“Once I got to college and then for a few years after, I found out a lot of women want just what you contacted me about. They want a good paddling with no strings. I’m good at
it, as you will find out soon,” He lifted his eyebrows at me and I stuck out my tongue at him. Mature.
“Most of them have a reason, or just make one up because they don’t want to say, ‘it makes me feel better after,’ and though I recall you gave me reasons but also said you liked the aftermath. Two for one. How could I resist?”
“So you didn’t,” I whispered. “Did you know it was me?”
“Miki, I might have suspected, because of your writing, the way you phrase things, some of your quirks. But, I didn’t know for sure, even though I know you pretty well. I really had no clue you wanted this.” He paused. “I had no idea, and that causes me some consternation. I’m usually a pretty good guesser. I’m pretty upset I didn’t realize you wanted this.”
He sighed and stretched, and I drooled. Then he sat up and gave me a look I’d seen a few times and loved. All alpha male and dominant and hot. “Your turn, tell me why you want it,” he said, in commanding tone I’d only heard during sex before. When it turned me on so much I could barely function. Okay, he was all about turning me on, instead of turning me over his lap, wasn’t he?
But I wasn’t going there yet. I didn’t quite believe, still, he hadn’t been stalking me, didn’t know it was me. I still wasn’t ready to talk to him about one of the few things I’d kept from him in our relationship. It was embarrassing, mortifying and I didn’t know why. He wanted this too, in a much different way than I did, but still. Why was I feeling this way and he obviously wasn’t? Well, who knew what he was thinking. He really never shared his innermost self with me, now did he?
Funny how you can know someone so well, and yet not know them at all.
“You haven’t finished your story yet. Why did you stop—” Hesitating… why was the word so hard to say? “Spanking, before you met me?”
A flash of pain crossed his eyes as he sighed. “I don’t like to talk about. It’s bad and I made a very bad judgment call.” He sighed again, and I could see he searched for the right words. I really wanted to jump in his lap and comfort him, but I waited. Sitting where he told me to sit. Finally, he started talking again.
