Teresa sprawled over Roland’s knee. He’d promised her a spanking when they arrived at his home, and they’d been there for all of quarter of an hour. He was delivering. His hand landed on her bottom and sometimes, more painfully, on the backs of her thighs.
Teresa held on tight to his right leg for balance and sometimes kicked her legs, though that was mostly for his benefit. She knew he was roused by this, only partly because of the hard mass pressed against her right thigh.
This hadn’t quite what she’d intended when she’d saved him the bother of removing her panties, by not wearing any.
She’d decided to wear nothing under her skirt several hours earlier, because she’d hoped they might go out after the Real Vampire social. She’d planned to walk him to a taxi stand through the nearby cemetery afterwards and suddenly demand to be fucked. That’d be splendidly goth, and it’d disconcert him a little, she was sure. And he’s still rise to the occasion. But there’d happened to be a taxi outside the pub and he’d hailed it.
Anyway, now she was getting that promised spanking, it made no difference; it would have taken him at most a few seconds to pull them down and off.
He took his time, his land landing every ten seconds, not too hard. The heat and the soreness were cumulative things. Both had built up slowly but surely as her spanking continued. She knew that she was colouring for him; he’d said more than once how very prettily red her arse and legs were turning.
He’d have to do this a lot in the future, he’d claimed.
TTeresa had said nothing, but she thought he was probably right. Not all fantasies turn out well, when realized, but this one was. She yelped suddenly, not because he’d smacked her but because he’d stopped and slid his hand into the damp valley between her buttocks and his fingers into her cunt
Roland wasn’t gentle, but she made a quiet moaning sound, riding his lap as he pleasured her. She made a deeper, louder, moan a few minutes later when the movements of her hips were becoming emphatic and he stopped stroking her and resumed her spanking, a little harder.
This happened twice more, and eventually she knew, objectively, that she was being spanked hard now, but there was not the slightest sense of pain. Only arousal, and the desire that each smack should be followed by another one just like it.