Spanking Megan

It's easier than you might think to live your life just going through the motions. I don't know exactly when it happened to me, but I do know that one day about three months ago I woke up to that fact. Here I was, in my early 50's, divorced and bored to death with my job. Bored to death with life in general . . . especially my social life, which was virtually nonexistent.

I'd been divorced for over a decade and had had my share of dates, and even a couple of longer-term companions. God, I hate the word "companion," but "girlfriend" doesn't' seem quite appropriate for a woman over 40, which most of my "companions" had been. And it was actually fun to play the field again after having been married for 25 years. I enjoyed seeing what was "out there," so to speak.

It's not that I had any trouble getting dates, or even sex for that matter. There are plenty of single women around my age who are delighted to find a man who isn't either gay, married or toting enough baggage to fill a Greyhound bus. And I guess I wasn't all that bad to look at, either. Unlike so many of my contemporaries, I'd managed to keep my weight down—I still weighed about 175, to go along with my 6-0 height. I still had most of my hair, though there was a lot more grey in it. And people told me I gave the appearance of someone younger than my 53 years.

But at the same time, what I found "out there" left me pretty much wondering, in the words of the old song, "is that all there is?" I knew from reading erotica and hearing discussions of current sexual mores, that there were women out there somewhere who enjoy pushing the envelope sexually. And I was eager to see if I would enjoy pushing it with them.

I work from my home office and spend a lot of time on the computer, so on a whim, I decided one evening to see what I could find on one of those social networking sites. Since I already had an email account with Yahoo, I decided to try Yahoo 360. Over six months or so I managed to link up with a number of "friends," some of whom I began to chat and exchange emails with. I was surprised, not to mention pleased, that there seemed to be a significant number of younger women who apparently enjoy older men . . . at least in the virtual sense. One of these was Megan.

Megan was a pretty girl, 19 years old, and from the pictures she had shared with me I knew she had a full figure and long blonde hair. She was tall, at 5-9, and also quite smart, even though she often tried to play the classic "dumb blonde." It always irritated her when I called her on it and told her to act as smart as she really is.

After meeting online, we chatted some, then began texting back and forth, before finally talking regularly on the phone . . . almost every night. We had some very hot conversations, during which she described to me some of the things she had done with a fuck buddy that she goes to school with. The kid—Andrew-- is kind of a jerk who dates someone else and basically uses Megan only for sex. She usually gives him blow jobs, but they fuck occasionally, too. She told me she rarely cums when she is with him and usually feels used afterward. Despite that, Megan seemed almost addicted to the kid and had trouble keeping herself from giving in each time he made a booty call.

I had encouraged her to ditch the guy and quit letting him take advantage of her, but she kept going back. Finally, and I'm not sure exactly where this came from, I told her that she would have to be punished each time she got together for sex with this boy. A blow job would result in a hand spanking, and if she fucked him, she would suffer my paddle.

It was sort of strange that I even thought to bring up spanking because I rarely used corporal punishment with either of my two kids, who were both now well into their 20's. And I certainly didn't own a paddle. But I had been reading some erotica that combined spanking with sex, and I was fascinated by the dynamics of it . . . not to mention aroused by the idea.

It was clear that Megan liked the idea of being spanked because each time we talked, she confessed another liaison with the boy and she would tell me what they did in exquisite detail. It turned us both on for her to do that and also earned her more swats. Of course, to actually deliver those swats, I would have to meet Megan in person.

Finally, after talking for about a month, we decided to meet. We lived about an hour and a half apart and met at a hotel in between our two towns. I arrived first and felt the excitement building as I waited for her. Of course, I wondered if she would actually show up, as so many of these online liaisons never seem to materialize.

I went over in my mind the things I planned to do when she arrived. I checked once more in my suitcase to make sure the paddle, which I had secured just for this occasion, was there. It was. I ran my hand over the tapered wooden handle and admired how it flared out to make a broad flat surface where it would come into contact with Megan's tender bottom. The paddle was about a foot long from tip to tip, and probably a half inch thick. I knew it would make quite an impression on her . . . in more ways than one.

The hotel room was pretty seedy, actually, but it was conveniently located, and we weren't getting together to admire the quality of the room, anyway. A king size bed dominated the space, which also featured a small table and two chairs tucked into the corner, along with the usual nightstands and chest of drawers.

There WAS one nice thing about the room. As I opened the door to come inside, I noticed that the rooms on either side seemed to be unoccupied. And given that it was nearly 10 p.m., I figured they would remain empty all night. That was a good thing, given what Megan and I would be doing. I thought there probably would be some noise.

I heard her voice through the door first. I think she was asking someone which way it was to the room number I had given her. I recognized it immediately from all the time we had spent on the phone. At that point I knew this was actually going to happen. I felt this tingling sensation deep in my belly, and it continued to build. I hadn't felt this much excitement since I was a teenager.

I opened the door before she even had the chance to knock. And there she was, looking back at me with surprise in her big green eyes. There was apprehension there, too, I could tell. She could probably see the same in mine. I motioned for her to come inside, and she entered wordlessly. She was so nervous that her body was trembling a little.

"I'm glad you came," I told her in the gentlest, most reassuring voice I could muster. "You look nervous."

"I am," she responded, almost in a whisper. I loved the fact that she sounded just like in those many conversations we had had on the phone. "You're not a serial killer, are you?" I think it may have actually been a serious question. It made me wonder how strong her desire must be for her to take such a chance.

I put my hands on either shoulder and pulled her close to me. "There's nothing to be afraid of," I said, trying to calm her. "I'm not a serial killer. But don't go meeting anyone else like this because you never know who might be."

She was tall, as I expected her to be, and even prettier in person than her photos. Her lips were full and sensuous and, of course, there were those beautiful green eyes. She was wearing a short sleeved dress with a V-neck and full skirt that hit her just above the knee. It was made of a lightweight fabric with a print design on a light background.

I began to move my hands lightly up and down her bare arms, pulling her a little closer as I did. She leaned closer, but just stood there, still apprehensive. I motioned to the large bed, "Why don't we relax and get to know each other?" I led her over and we both kicked off our shoes, sat down on the bed and scooted up until our backs were resting against the headboard, our legs stretched out in front.

I put my arm around her shoulders and pulled her gently to me, and she seemed to relax a bit and melt into my body. In a moment, I lifted her chin and kissed her for the first time, gently at first, nibbling lightly on her lips, moving from upper to lower, then back again. "I'm so glad you decided to come," I whispered between kisses.

"Me, too," she responded with a soft sigh.

I then pulled her harder to me, kissed her more deeply, then slowly down her neck as I traced one hand over her full breasts. I could feel her hard nipples even beneath the fabric of her dress and bra, and she gasped as I pinched one and rolled it between my finger and thumb. It would have been very easy to just go with that feeling and let things progress naturally. Undoubtedly, we would have been fucking in very short order.

Instead, I stopped abruptly and said in a stern voice, "All right, young lady. I think we have some business to take care of before anything else." She looked at me in surprise, at first, because she had been lost in the moment, as I had been. Then a gleam of recognition lit up her eyes.

"What do you mean?" she asked coyly.

"You know what I mean," I responded. "You've been a very naughty girl lately, and now you're going to have to suffer the consequences." I stood up and walked to the end of the bed and sat down. "Come here," I commanded.

"What?" she said, trying to act like she didn't know what was going to happen.

"You know what, Megan. Come here."

And with that, she slowly stood up and came over to where I was seated. "Lay across my lap," I told her, and she complied readily. I pulled her dress up to expose her wonderfully round bottom, which was almost totally bare already because she was wearing a tiny lacy thong. Her skin was milky white and very smooth to the touch.

"I warned you about what was going to happen if you kept misbehaving with Andrew," I told her. "But you just kept giving him blow jobs, and even fucking him." My voice got a little louder and sterner with each word. "And you knew it was wrong, but you did it anyway, even after I warned you to stop. You may have enjoyed it while you were doing it," I went on, "but there comes a time when you have to suffer the consequences for that enjoyment."

As I continued my lecture, I began to run my right palm lightly over her bare cheeks. "How many blow jobs have you given him since I told you to stop?"

"I don't know," she responded hesitantly, "four or five, I think."

"What do you mean, you think?!" I said, louder still, smacking her right cheek hard with my hand.

"FIVE!" she yelped.

And without further warning, I stopped caressing her bottom and gave her five hard swats on her right cheek. Smack. Smack. Smack. Smack. SMACK. Each one was harder and louder than the last. "Oh!" she squealed, more in surprise than pain.

"Five sounds like a good number to me," I told her, "you're going to get five swats for each blow job. And those were for the first one."

I started caressing gently again, soothing the cheek that had just received the spanking. It had started to turn a little pink. Then five more . . . Smack. Smack. Smack. SMACK. SMACK! This time I focused on the left cheek and made them a little harder, too. "All right," I announced, "that's for blow job number two." As I finished the second set, I let my hand drift down the back of her legs, then up between her thighs, stroking her smooth skin gently. But I didn't go too high. I wanted the tension to build.

"All right, let's get this out of the way," I said as I slid two fingers inside the back of her thong and began to pull it down. Without a protest, she lifted herself from my lap just enough to allow me to pull it down her legs and off. I smiled when I saw how wet it was. Megan was obviously enjoying this as much as I was.

As she settled herself back onto my lap, I let my hand drift down between her thighs again, this time high enough that I could feel the heat radiating from her pussy. I'm sure she could feel the bulge that was growing in my jeans, as well. It felt so good to have her pressed against me like that. "Now then," I said, "that's much better. Let's get down to business again."

Smack! Smack! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! Five more swats, but this time I alternated from one cheek of her beautiful round ass to the other. "OWWW!" she cried, after the fifth one. "That hurts!"

"It's supposed to hurt. That's what happens when girls misbehave as you have," I reminded her. By this time, both her cheeks were a bright pink, and I could feel the warmth generated by the spanking. This time I moved my hand higher between her thighs until I touched her pussy ever so lightly. I could feel her juices coat my index finger, so I moved it back and forth just a little, making her squirm with pleasure.

Just as her breathing began to quicken from the pleasure, I removed my hand and moved it back to her bottom so I could caress her warm pink cheeks once more. Then, SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! The sound of five more hard swats echoed through the hotel room, and I could hear Megan whimper a little.

And even before she could brace herself, I applied the final five, just about as hard as I was able. "Owww! Owowww! Owwwwww!" she protested. "I promise I'll be good from now on!"

"And just how do you plan to be good?" I asked.

"I won't give Andrew any more blow jobs . . . I promise."

"That's my good girl," I whispered soothingly. And with those words, I began to caress her warm, wet sex from behind as she continued to lie across my lap. I slipped two fingers inside, collected some of her abundant nectar, and used it to moisten her clit.

"Mmmmmm, that feels good, Daddy," she whispered as she began to move on my lap. Her belly was rubbing against my swollen cock as I slid my two wet fingers up and down lightly on either side of her little pearl. I couldn't remember anything feeling quite that good. We stayed there like that until we were both close to orgasm.

Finally, I helped her up from my lap and as we stood facing each other, I helped her lift her dress over her head and slip off her bra. When she was completely undressed, I looked her up and down admiringly. Her breasts were indeed full and firm, with two hard nipples about the size of the end of my little finger springing up from the center of pinkish brown areolas that must have been bigger around than silver dollars. I allowed my gaze to drift down across her belly to the curve of her mound, which was completely smooth.

I put one hand on the back of her neck, pulled her to me and began to kiss those full lips deeply, passionately, while my other hand moved down and lightly traced the length of her crease. She was so wet by this time that her nectar was almost dripping onto my fingertips.

"All right, Megan," I said, breaking our kiss, "I want you to stay right where you are, but look behind you." She looked puzzled but turned her head to look over her shoulder. Reflected there in a large mirror mounted on the wall, was Megan's beautiful form from behind. And most prominent of all was her firm, round bottom, which had been rendered bright pink from the spanking.

A rush of air escaped her lips as she saw it. "See," I whispered, "that's what happens to naughty girls." And with those words, I slipped two fingers inside and pressed my palm against her mound and moved it in slow circles as our tongues met in a deep, wet kiss. She instinctively moved her feet a little farther apart to allow me greater access. My fingers found her g-spot and began to massage it slowly, but firmly, and she responded with a low moan and reached down and began to trace her hand along the length of my hard cock. In less than a minute, she shuddered and stiffened her legs as a mild orgasm flowed through her. She put her arms tight around my neck and held on to keep her balance.

I moved her back gently until her legs touched the bed, and she sat down limply. I quickly followed, trying not to break either our kiss or the intimate caress I was offering her sex. We managed to scoot our way up the bed until we were able to stretch out completely, our bodies facing each other. But soon, I moved up a bit and eased Megan onto her back, so I could part her legs further and continue pleasuring her with my hand.

We continued to kiss, lips, neck, ears, chest, as I massaged her spot more vigorously, while making sure that my palm was grinding into her clit. By this time, she was helping me by lifting her hips from the bed just a little and moving them to the rhythm of my touch.

Her breaths were coming harder and faster at this point and I knew she was very close again, so I moved my mouth from her neck, downward to her breast and took one nipple into my mouth as deeply as possible and began to swirl my tongue over it. It took only a few more moments of attention to her breasts, coupled with the work my hand was doing down below, until I felt her body stiffen and then begin to buck wildly. She thrashed her head rapidly side to side, eyes closed, moaning with pleasure.

In a few more moments, her orgasm subsided and she lay still. I removed my fingers from her hot, wet tunnel and moved upward a little, offering a taste of herself, which she eagerly licked from my fingers. I kissed her again, pressing my tongue inside to also sample a taste of her wonderful pussy.

We lay there cuddling together for a short time, my hard cock still throbbing with arousal. But I was not ready to fuck yet. I wanted this pleasure to last as long as possible. So I slid downward, pressed her legs apart and positioned myself between them, with my face just inches above Megan's beautifully smooth mound. I blew lightly and soothingly along the length of her for a few minutes, then began to lick the outside of her lips before moving my tongue in a circle upward across her mound, then back down the other side. I hadn't even come close to entering her yet.

I made that circle with my tongue several more times before using my fingers to part her lips slightly so I could take one, then the other into my mouth and suck gently. By this time, her hips were moving almost imperceptibly, but enough to show me that she was enjoying what I was doing. Before long, I used my tongue to part her lips and began to lick upward until I found her swollen clit. I licked up one side of the little pearl, and down the other, careful not to make direct contact. After only a few licks, she began to raise her hips as if to show me where she wanted me to concentrate the sensation.

"Oh, Daddy," she moaned, "oh please, more. Please . . . . yes . . . there . . . mmmmm."

As she continued to encourage me with her moans and whimpers, I glanced up and saw that her eyes were closed, lips parted, and she was rolling both nipples between the thumb and finger of each hand. I could tell she was again very close by this time, so I increased the intensity of my licks, finally centering the attention right on her swollen clit. I drew her pearl into my mouth and began to suck, triggering another orgasm. This time her hips were bucking so hard that I had to slip my hands beneath her thighs and pull her tight to me to maintain contact.

Her climax came in several waves that rose and fell in intensity. Finally, as it began to subside, she pushed me away, having grown too sensitive for any more contact. I moved upward again and ran my tongue along the outline of her lips so she could taste her nectar once again. She licked my mouth and thrust her tongue inside, obviously relishing her taste.

After her climax, we lay there for probably almost an hour, my arm around her and her head resting on my chest. I caressed her cheek, which was damp with perspiration from the exertion of her climaxes. Finally, she whispered in a soft voice, "Daddy, did you bring your paddle?"

I was really surprised that she had taken the initiative regarding the paddle, but I was certainly willing to go with it. "Of course I brought it," I told her firmly, "and you know I'm going to use it, too, because of those two times you fucked Andrew."