A Week in Brittany

"Oh, I'm so sorry!" Exclaimed Simone rushing to pick up the empty jug and glasses.

"That's OK." Said Steve, getting up out of the chair and shaking himself down.

"It is certainly not OK." Greg said, sternly. "She's been told time and time again about her clumsiness and now she's ended up soaking a guest. "Simone, you naughty girl, say sorry, properly."

Simone put the tray and the recovered jug and glasses on the table, got down on her knees in front of Steve and bowed her head.

"Master Steve, please accept my apologies for my clumsy behaviour." Simone said. "I was entirely at fault and fully deserve to be punished."

"Do you feel she deserves to be punished?" Greg asked. "After all, it's you who is covered in lemonade."

"I... I guess so." Steve hazarded. He didn't really know but he guessed that this was all part of the game.

"She most certainly does." Greg continued. "But first of all we must get you out of those wet clothes. If you nip upstairs to the bathroom you'll find my dressing gown hanging on the back of the door. Change into that and bring your stuff down here. Simone will rinse it through and it will be dry in no time on a lovely day like today. Come along, off you go."

Steve was no more able to resist Greg than Simone was so he scooted up stairs and stripped off putting on the black cotton gown he found behind the door. He returned downstairs and handed the soggy bundle of his clothes to Simone who went to the sink to rinse them through. Whilst she was doing this Steve joined Greg in the garden where the drinks had been refreshed.

"I think a dozen strokes of the paddle ought to do the trick; do you agree?" Greg said casually. "And I think they would be best coming from you; after all, you were the one she threw lemonade over."

"A dozen strokes..." Steve had been just an observer, so far. Now Greg seemed to want him to get involved.

"Oh yes, a round dozen seems about right and on her bare bottom, of course."

"I'm not sure..." Steve stammered.

"Nonsense. You've seen me do it so I'm sure you know how. I think out here will be best; this garden is plenty private enough so there's no point in us all trooping inside." Greg's tone was light, as if he were discussing a picnic, not spanking his wife. "Remember, you start by ordering her to fetch the paddle."

At that moment Simone appeared with Steve's clothes which she took over to the washing line and hung them up to dry. Having done this she came over and knelt before Steve and Greg.

"Please, Sirs, I've rinsed out Master Steve's clothes and I'm ready to be punished." She said with her head bowed.

"Steve?" Prompted Greg.

"Go and... Go and fetch the paddle." Steve ordered. He was having trouble controlling his voice which was all over the place.

"Right away, Sir." Simone replied before getting up and going into the house.

"Don't forget it's got to be on her bare buttocks." Greg commented. "I think it best if you take her panties off rather than asking her to do it; part of arranging her to your satisfaction, if you see what I mean, shows you're in control. Ah, here she is."

Simone came straight over in front of Steve and knelt down holding out the paddle before her. Steve took it from her hands; it felt bigger and heavier than he'd expected.

"Stand up and bend over; you know the position." Steve said, trying his hardest to sound stern.

Simone did as she was told, her skirt riding up and exposing her panty covered buttocks. Steve remembered what Greg had suggested and got up from his chair to stand behind her. After first remembering to tuck the hem of her tennis skirt under its waistband his trembling fingers reached for the waistband of her panties.

He felt almost overcome by nerves as his fingers slipped under the elasticated waist and he began to pull them down. He had never removed a woman's underwear before under any circumstances, let alone to give her a spanking, and his trembling fingers felt like sausages as he eased the material back and down, over her buttocks and to the top of her thighs. Immediately he was hit with a problem, with her legs wide apart the panties would go no lower. He glanced over at Greg.

"You're in control here; if you want her to move her legs so you can remove her panties then just tell her so. In fact I would suggest an extra couple of strokes for being so uncooperative." Greg said matter-of-factly.

"Move your legs so I can remove your panties." Steve ordered.

Simone did so and Steve pushed them down her legs. As he did so he was crouched directly behind her bent-over form and his eyes were exactly at the same level as her bottom giving him a close up view of her everything. With his heart pounding he pushed the panties to the ground, getting Simone to step out of each leg at a time and then tossing them onto a chair with a casualness that he did not feel. Then he turned back to Simone and ordered her to spread her legs again.

Now that he had her arranged he nervously hefted the paddle, feeling its weight in his hand. He wasn't at all sure how hard to go. Whilst Greg had obviously made Simone's bottom sting he hadn't really hurt her, not in any vicious sense. Wishing to err on the side of caution he started with a quite gentle stroke which, never the less, gave a resounding thwapp as leather hit flesh and made Simone give a little squeal. What he wasn't ready for was the thrill that ran through him. He didn't want to hurt Simone, not really hurt her, but there was something about spanking her which was electrifying. He essayed a second stroke, a bit harder this time and got the same rush. Her tan marks had left a beautiful white triangle where the bottom of her bikini normally went and this white triangle was quickly turning red. Another stroke and he almost overdid it; Simone gave quite a loud 'ow!' of pain and rocked forward, in danger of falling over. He'd have to control himself.

After that it turned into a bit of a blur. He kept just enough self control to avoid striking too hard or too fast but beyond that he was deep, deep in the thrill of it all. To have this beautiful woman, bent over, displaying her all as he tanned her buttocks an ever deeper shade of red did something to him, something deep inside and, by the time Greg called out that he'd reached fifteen and she'd had enough he was in seventh heaven. Panting slightly he let the hand holding the paddle fall to his side.

"And are her buttocks all nicely warmed up?" Greg asked.

"I... I don't know." Steve replied.

"Well, why don't you have a feel and find out?" Greg said as if it were the most obvious thing in the world. Steve dropped the paddle and gingerly reached out to touch the glowing flesh.

"Not just there." Greg continued as Steve's fingers ran across Simone's glowing cheeks. "Feel between her thighs, see if she's hot there as well."

Thus prompted Steve reached down and under to the shaven lips of Simone's sex. As Greg had prophesied they were quite warm and, as he probed, he could feel that she was slick with juices. Simone even moved slightly easing his fingers inside her.

"And now I think it's time Simone said 'thank you'. Sit down, Steve. Simone, you know what to do." Greg ordered.

Slightly taken aback by this Steve did as he was told and sat down on one of the lawn chairs. Simone released her ankles and, almost gingerly, stood up only to move to in front of Steve and kneel down again.

"Thank you, Master Steve. Thank you for punishing slave Simone." She said gently.

"By the looks of the bulge in that dressing gown he needs more thanks than that." Greg said with a laugh. "Go on, sort the poor boy out."

Simone ran her hands along the top of Steve's thighs pushing the dressing gown out of the way. It didn't take much before his rock hard erection was poking clear.

"Please, Master Steve, it would be an honour if slave Simone would be allowed to offer you relief." She said and, without waiting for an answer her head ducked down and her lips kissed the crown of his glans.

Steve had been aroused ever since the punishment had started and Simone was obviously no novice so, as her lips worked up and down the length of his shaft, it wasn't long before Steve could feel himself start to explode. Unable to control himself he thrust his hips forward and Simone responded by taking him deeper. He knew he ought to withdraw, a thousand porn downloads had shown the man shooting his jism all over the woman's face but, for the life of him, he couldn't stop now and with a harsh, guttural cry he felt himself climax, again and again he exploded with pleasure, again and again he felt Simone take what he gave her, swallowing the lot.

Exhausted and drained he collapsed back in the lawn chair with Simone still kneeling before him with a fabulous smile looking like the cat who's swallowed the cream. For a moment or two there was silence until Greg finally said.

"Well, that's that all sorted out but I'm not sure if your clothes will be dry yet. Do you mind leaving them here overnight? You can come and pick them up tomorrow?"

"No, that will be fine." Steve agreed. He could see the glances exchanged between Simone and Greg and he knew when he was not wanted.

"Maybe it would be best if you slip home now before your parents return. That way they won't be bothered by the dressing gown. Save on explanations." Greg urged.

"Certainly, good idea." Steve replied. "He looked down at Simone who was still kneeling beside him. "Thank you, thank you so much."

"See you tomorrow, big boy." Simone smiled. "Shall we say eleven-o-clock?"

Steve got up from his chair.

"OK, see you at eleven." And, with that, he left for the day.

Friday

Steve paced around the cottage. It was only ten thirty; he still had half an hour to go and the time seemed to be passing so slowly. The rest of the family, wishing to make the best of the warm weather, had headed for the beach some time back and Steve had had to endure a certain amount of ribbing from his father over his preference for playing tennis over lying in the sun or swimming in the sea. After they had gone he had showered and shaved, even applying a dab or two of his father's aftershave. As he stared in the mirror he wondered quite what he was doing; Simone was, after all, a married woman and, even if she wasn't, he understood full well that she was out of his league. Why then was he getting more sex in the last four days than he had had in his entire life so far?

He sat back in an armchair and, as he thought over yesterday's events, his hand slipping unbidden under the waistband of his shorts. Idly he stroked his prick as he remembered the blow-job he had been given; how Simone's lips had slid up and down his shaft, how her tongue had played with his glans and how, as he had inevitably succumbed, she hadn't missed a beat but had swallowed everything he could give her. Back at school Dave had boasted of how Felicity Woodman had sucked him off but, if his experiences with Jenny Blaine were anything to go by, he very much doubted that she would have done so, let alone swallowed.

Steve had to ease back; he seemed to live on a hair trigger nowadays and if he wasn't careful he'd stain his shorts with all the embarrassing explanations that would involve. He glanced at his watch; ten thirty-five; only five minutes since he last looked. With a sigh he headed back for his bedroom. He knew a way of passing the time and relieving the tension.

"Hello, Steve" Greg called out as, twenty minutes later, he went round to the cottage across the road. "Simone's still upstairs getting ready but she won't be long. Have a seat; would you like a drink?"

"No, I'm fine, thank you, Mr Anderson." Steve replied as he lowered himself into a sun lounger.

"What's all this 'Mr Anderson' nonsense?" Greg laughed. "I thought we got past all that. Simone and I have really enjoyed your company these last few days and you've really helped Simone improve her game. There's not much chance for her to vary her style, back at home. It's good for her to have a different opponent for a change."

"Well, I'm really enjoying playing with her as well." Steve replied before suddenly blushing as he realised the double entendre. "Err... tennis, that is."

"And here she is." Greg said as the door to the cottage opened and Simone appeared. "Now off you go and see if you can't beat the pants off her."

Simone gave Steve a friendly wave and, like some eager puppy, he leapt up out of the lounger and rushed over to carry the tennis bag for her. As he followed her round to the tennis court his eyes were firmly fixed on her behind as it wiggled provocatively under the pristine white of her tennis skirt and his prick was stiffening as he anticipated what would follow. And when they got to the court it seemed as if Simone were deliberately teasing, flirting with him to put him off. The net result was that Steve was quite off his game and really quite glad when, nearly two hours later, Simone said that she had had enough.

Puffing slightly from all the exertion Steve and Simone returned to the garden where Greg was still deep in his novel. He looked up as they approached.

"All finished. I'm about ready for lunch, how about you?" He asked.

"Ooh, yes, please." Simone said eagerly. "But have I got time for a quick shower first. I'm all hot and sticky."

"Why not? Steve and I will set up the table in the meanwhile." Greg replied.

And so it was. Simone disappeared upstairs whilst Steve and Greg laid out bread, cheese, fresh fruit and wine on the garden table. They had barely finished before Simone reappeared wearing a light cotton sun dress short enough to display her long athletic legs to good advantage.

Whilst they ate Steve was constantly aware of a tension in the air. Once again Greg and Simone kept exchanging glances in some unspoken conversation and all the while Simone looked nervously excited. She barely pecked at her food but was quick to empty her wine glass. Meanwhile it was Greg who made most of the small talk but he too seemed a little over animated. Finally they were finished and Simone stood up and started to clear away the plates.

"Here, I'll help with that." Greg said, sorting out the cheeses on their board. Steve also started to help but he was told quite firmly that they would manage and that he, as their guest was to sit back and enjoy himself. As they headed for the house, their arms laden with the used dishes, Steve lay back on the lounger and sipped his wine. One minute turned into five and they seemed to be taking their time and Steve was beginning to wonder what was up when they finally reappeared, hand in hand with Simone looking more nervous than ever. After a quick glance at Greg she let go of his hand and came over to where Steve was sat and, kneeling down beside the sun lounger, she rested her arms on his thighs. For a moment there was silence until she seemed to make a resolve and she turned her head to look Steve straight in the eye.

"Master Steve." She began. "I've been a very naughty girl and once again I need to be punished. All week I have been behaving like a whore and a tease in front of you. Master Greg and I have discussed my behaviour and we have agreed that, as I have behaved as a whore, I should be punished as a whore. Please, Master Steve, we have agreed that I need a special punishment and we need your help; slave Simone would be grateful if you would be so kind as to fuck her in the arse, show her what it's like to really be a whore."

Steve was speechless. As a child of the internet generation anal sex was the holy grail and, furthermore, something he knew he would never get from girls of his own age. Indeed, to date, baring Simone, his entire sexual experience boiled down to a few clumsy gropes. Now here she was offering herself to him but the situation was so extraordinary and he was so overcome by nerves he didn't know what to do or say; all he could manage was to sit there with his mouth open.

"Please... I need you to show me what a naughty girl I've been." Simone said sweetly still looking him straight in the eye before she turning away and, with her back towards him, she knelt down on the grassy lawn and reached behind herself to flick up the back of her dress only to reveal 'Please fuck my arse' written on her buttocks in thick felt-tip. Still dazed Steve turned to Greg who smiled and held out his hand which was holding what looked like a toothpaste tube and a washcloth.

"It's OK, we've both agreed to this." He said. "Here, you'll need these. She's pretty tight so you'll have to lubricate her well."

"Yes, yes, please, Master Steve, use lots of lube, push it deep into me. Make it nice and slippery for when you slide inside." Simone echoed from where she was knelt on the ground.

Feeling as if he were in some sort of dream Steve looked from one to the other before sitting up on the sun lounger and taking the lube and washcloth from Greg. Then he knelt down on the ground behind Simone and, putting the washcloth and the cap off the lube on the ground beside him, he dithered, wondering quite what to do. He started to point the tube towards her bottom but that didn't seem right and why had he been given the washcloth?

"Squeeze some out on your finger and then ease it in." Greg suggested and Steve gratefully complied. "No, more than that, there's no need to be stingy."

Steve squeezed the tube until his index finger was covered with a generous dollop of the gel. Tentatively he placed his finger between the cheeks of her buttocks feeling for the rosebud of her sphincter. Gently he rotated it a bit but he was too shy to do much more.

"Push it in." Simone urged, her voice slightly breathless. "Push it in, Master Steve. Push your finger inside me. Open me up, make me ready for you."

Steve pushed a little harder and Simone pushed back until the initial resistance was broken and he felt his finger slip inside. The lubricant was pretty effective and, once he was past the initial barrier, his finger slid easily as far as the second knuckle. A deep sigh from Simone encouraged him and he wiggled it around and slid it back and forth a bit.

"That's it." Simone said softly but urgently. "Work it well in, open me up, make my bum hole ready to take you."

Despite the urgency coming from his groin Steve was fascinated by what he was doing and by Simone's reaction. He withdrew his finger and applied another dollop of the lubricant. This time it was easier, there was much less resistance and, as he buried his finger as far as it would go, Simone was moaning with passion, arching her back so as to open up her rear end.

"Now, Master Steve, now, take me now. I need you inside me. Please, don't tease any more." Simone gasped between little sighs of pleasure.

Steve removed his finger and realised immediately why he had been given the washcloth. He wiped his hands on it and managed to get the worst of the lube off but he was too impatient to do a proper job. Then he reached for the elasticated waistband of his shorts and, hooking his briefs with his thumbs so as to slide them down as well, he pushed them to the ground. His prick, freed from these constraints, leapt forward, ready for action. Steve took it in his hand and leant forward, easing it between Simone's buttock cheeks. Nervously he pushed the tip against her sphincter but, even with the lube, it was still very tight. He pushed a little harder...

"Yes, yes, Master Steve. Push it in; push it inside me, deep inside me!" Simone implored.

Steve gave another push and this time he overcame the initial resistance and he felt the tip slide inside her. He fought the desire to push hard and slam himself all the way in; he wasn't at all sure how long he could hold out if he didn't go gently and he didn't want to embarrass himself by coming too soon. Slowly, evenly, he slid himself inside, feeling the pure bliss as the tight grip of Simone's sphincter slid down his shaft.