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She hadn't mentioned spanking, but sure seemed to be begging forit. I thought I'd venture carefully into the subject. A harmlessremark she could ignore or respond to. "Sounds like you need abirthday spanking, Diane!" I ventured. "Hah! The last one I hadwas my on my 18th birthday. And you know what? It hurt like hellbut sure turned me on!"That was it. No persuasion was necessary. We headed for myapartment, stopping to purchase a bottle of champagne. At myapartment, we started drinking the champagne. We laughed, talked,and told our life stories. Then, suddenly, her mood changed.Diane began mocking me. Her remarks were punctuated with thatnaughty smile. And as she paced around the living room, I watchedher bottom bounce. It was time to administer the spanking herattitude and our fantasies deserved."Young lady, you are my guest, and although it is your birthday, Iexpect a modicum of respect and consideration." She repeated, in amocking tone, "respect and consideration!" . She had somehow managed to slide her camisole up so that her breasts hung over each side of the couch back, and she was squeezing them as she furiously worked the nipples between her fingers. The look on her face was pure lust; and what had at first been the slight scent of passion emanating from her cunt-lips was now a flood of juices whose smell permeated the air while its moisture permeated the crotch of her thong. I again stroked her ass, now feeling the heat and welts I had created, my fingers slipping down across the clothe-covered entrance to her pussy. Cupping her mound over the drenched material, I stroked her clit. She shivered. With the heel of my palm applying pressure to her opening, I fingered her button through the lace covering, over and over, while slapping her bruised buttocks; until she cried out in release, repeatedly shoving her mound into the ridge of the back of the couch in a humping motion. Now it was my turn. Standing behind her, I undid my trousers, letting.
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