Handing me the paddle she said, "I'm dreadfully sorry Ken. Please take this paddle. I must apologize. Can you sit?"Whew! (fans self) That was quite an ending!
I nodded and sat down, wincing as my inflamed rear end made contact with the seat. Joanne fumbled with a zipper on her shorts and then to my astonishment, pulled them off leaving her in sheer nylon panties and her halter top. She proceeded to undo her shirt revealing a firm pair of breasts in a skimpy bra. Clad now in just bra and panties she walked to my right side. I gripped the paddle and gazed into her eyes.
"Ken, I was awful to you. For that you must put me across your knee, pull down my panties and spank me real hard. Use that paddle and spank until my bottom is good and red."
Before I could answer, she lowered herself over my lap and gripped the rungs of the chair.
"Go ahead, take my panties down, Ken."
I transferred the paddle to my left hand, inserted my fingers of my right into the elastic of her panties, and pulled her panties down to her knees.
Her bottom was round and full, a gorgeous pair of alabaster globes that jiggled slightly as I shifted to perch her over my right thigh. She pushed on the floor with her toes arching her buttocks in anticipation of the paddle.
I raised my arm and whipped it down. Smack! Her bottom jiggled. Smack! The paddle left a hot pink band on the skin. Smack! Right across both cheeks. Smack! Crack! Smack! I started spanking in earnest, bringing the little paddle down in a snapping motion with my wrists. Joanne began to yelp, but I kept up a steady tattoo of spanks. With each spank, her rear cheeks would flatten, then bounce back into shape with a little wobble each time.
"Ooh, Ken, that’s it-- spank me harder," she said, now arching her fanny up in time with the rhythm of my smacks. For the next few minutes the room rang with the sharp retort of the "heat-for-the-seat" paddle against her bare quivering bottom globes. Her buns were really getting red and I decided to finish with a rapid volley. As I cracked the paddle down in a fast flurry of solid spanks, she squealed and wiggled, humping up and down on my legs. Finally I slowed down and with a last few solid whacks, I stopped.
I noticed she was sobbing quietly so I put the paddle down and began to rub her bottom to ease the sting. My fingers found her slit which was wet and slippery. Joanne moaned as I began to rub her there. She slid from my lap and knelt in front of me between my legs. I stared in shocked silence as she pulled my cock out of my shorts and placed it in her warm soft mouth. The sensation imparted by her lips as she bobbed her head up and down was one of pure hot pleasure. She alternately swirled her tongue around my penis and slurped with her lips gliding over my hard shaft. When I could stand no more I pulled her to her feet. She turned her back and putting her hands flat on the low table, parted her legs and arched her rear. I entered her from behind and thrust in and out of her hot sheath, my belly smacking her well reddened cheeks. I held out as long as I could but she soon climaxed with a shudder, triggering my own orgasm.
When we recovered she explained that her husband had died two years previously, leaving her the store. The kids were at camp. She was alone.
We had quite a weekend. I never did find a motel, there was no need. I did test out a few more paddles as well as a couple of straps and a switch (an old Southern specialty). It seems she had been "on the boil" for a while, having sorely missed the attentions of her late husband and his firm hand.
I left, vowing to return. But as luck would have it, I did not get back until that fall. Imagine my disappointment when I saw the sign outside--"UNDER NEW MANAGEMENT". She had left no forwarding address, but the new owners said something about family in the Midwest.
So, Joanne, if you're out there now...I'm waiting (she'd be sixty by now but I don't care).
Am I enough?
11 minutes ago