A New Lease Of Life

A New Lease Of Life

Life has some funny twists and turns, and I'm old enough to know that we never can tell what the day will bring. I've been divorced for 4-5 years now, and as a middle aged guy, I had all but given up on starting my life over again. Sex was almost a distant memory, and another relationship with some random woman seemed fraught with danger and mistrust. I was well and truly on my own, and not looking to change that status. I'd kind of come to terms with it, and my attitude was most certainly on the fatalistic side; what will be, will be.

That's when life turned round and bit me on the arse. It was a Saturday night and I'd gone out to a local pub, rather than sit at home watching TV. There was a good band performing some acoustic rock/unplugged sort of thing; a bit quieter than the usual pub band which, as an older man I quite appreciated. I arrived late, but managed to get a table at the back of the room, which suited me fine, as I'm not a front row kind of person. So, there I was, listening to a really nice bit of acoustic guitar interplay with the piano, when two or three young women asked if they could sit at the same table. I just kind of nodded at them, not paying much attention, after all they all looked about 20-25 years old; much younger than me, and as such not of much interest to me, nor me to them for that matter.

I was almost unaware of the one nearest to me leaning over my way. 'Thanks,' she said. I suppose I must have looked surprised, for she added by way of explanation, 'for agreeing to let us sit at your table.'

'Ah! It's no bother. I didn't expect to keep the whole table to myself all night, and if I had to share it, then you and your friends look like the kind people I'd like to share it with.' She smiled.

'Well, aren't you the lovely old charmer,' she said, teasing me, but there was a warmth in her voice that told me she meant no disrespect, just a sense of fun.

'I'll have you know madam,' I said, putting on my most pompous voice, 'That I'm only twenty five, but I've had a hard life. So, less of the "old," if you please.' She smiled.

'If you say so, "old timer," but that makes you far too young for me, I'm thirty five,' she replied. She seemed very pleased when I told her that I would have thought she was no more than 25-26 years old. It was true, she had long dark hair, very regular features, straight nose, generous mouth, and the most wonderful dark brown eyes. She was slim, but I couldn't tell much more about her figure as she was sitting down, and it was mostly concealed by the table.

'Oh dear, you are an old charmer, aren't you?' she teased again, but I merely replied that I was just telling the truth as I saw it, and she thanked me again. After that, the conversation kind of lapsed as she turned to her friends and joined in their conversation instead. I thought nothing of it, after all, she wasn't here with me, and I was grateful for our little chat, I had no expectations of anything else.

After a while she slipped off her jacket revealing a short sleeved T-shirt and a fair number of tattoos. I couldn't help but look, and while I'm no lover of tattoos, having none myself, on her they weren't repulsive or anything. The left arm which was the one closest to me had what I later learned was called a, 'half sleeve,' multi coloured, and looked very professionally executed. She turned and caught me looking.

'Are you going to give me a hard time about my tattoos?' she said, still smiling, but I just shook my head.

'None of my business really,' I replied. 'Live and let live is my motto. It's your body, and if you want to cover it in tattoos that's fine by me.' She laughed at that.

'I am not covered in tattoos, just some on my arms, well... there's one on my bum, but I don't generally go around showing that one,' she laughed again.

'Well... I suppose I'll just have to go on living the rest of my life bitterly disappointed that I won't see it then,' I countered. She smiled.

'Are you flirting with me, "old timer?" she teased me again. I smiled to let her see I was joining the game.

'Of course - I don't normally get the chance to speak to a beautiful young woman, so when I do I grab it with both hands.' She laughed and covered my hand with her rather more elegant one.

'You really are a charmer,' she said, giving me the full blast of those dark eyes, as she removed her hand from mine.

'You forgot to add, "old," this time. I must be growing on you?' it was my turn to tease, and again she laughed.

'Yes, you're right, but it doesn't seem to matter much, after all, we're only talking, not embarking on some life changing love affair.'

'Does it hurt?' I asked, changing the subject. She raised her eyebrows in query. 'Getting a tattoo, I mean,' I asked.

'Yes of course it does,' she answered. 'After I got my first one, I swore I'd never get another, but then I changed my mind a few months later, and I've had quite a few done since then.'

'Why do it if it hurts? I asked. She thought for a moment.

'I like the art of it, and it marks me out from the crowd, and believe it or not, it actually gets a bit addictive after a while.' Now it was my turn to think for a moment or two before formulating my next question.

'In what way is it addictive?' I asked. 'Is it the tattoo itself, or you've mentioned pain, is it the pain you like?' I asked, fully expecting her to waffle and not tell the truth, or simply tell me I was getting too personal. She took a while to mull it over in her mind before replying.

'You're asking some questions here that are making me really think this over,' she took a sip of her drink before going on, 'questions I've never even asked myself before. I suppose in the beginning it was the thrill of seeing the art appearing on my skin, but lately, with the bigger tattoos like my half sleeve here,' and she indicated her left arm, 'I seemed to like the pain as much as the picture.' she looked at me, I think to see my reaction, but I made no judgements about her, either in words or in gesture. 'Yes, now that I think of it, the pain was as important as the tattoo, and that's what makes it addictive to me. I never thought of it before, like that I mean,' she finished lamely.

'Well, pain releases powerful hormones called endorphins, 'I explained, 'which are the body's natural response to pain, and I know from various things I've read that they can be addictive, so it's not surprising that you like it. I believe it can almost be like a sexual release,' I added. She looked down at the floor in an embarrassed sort of way, and I realised that I'd hit the mark.

'Oh dear, are you thinking I may be some sort of pervert?' she said, trying to flirt again and lightening the moment. I led her on.

'Yes, I was thinking that,' I said, making her look at me sharply, but I quickly added, 'actually I was hoping you were.' She looked at me, with a fair bit of surprise and even shock on her pretty face. 'Lots of women find pain quite pleasurable, especially the submissive ones.' I went on. 'They like to be spanked and have their hair pulled etc.' I left it there, hanging in the air. It hung there for quite some time. It was obvious she was deep in thought, but eventually she spoke

'Yes, I can understand that, I like my hair being pulled,' she said quietly, 'a lot.' I waited, hoping she had other confessions to make, but she seemed reluctant to confess unaided, so I asked her to tell me more, adding that I knew she had more to tell. Bit by bit she added that she liked the thought of being submissive, and then she admitted that she'd love to be spanked. 'Just to see what it was like,' she said, sounding as if she were trying to justify what she had just said.

'Well, that would save on the cost of the tattoo, if you just went straight for the pain option,' I remarked, then quickly. 'You've never been spanked?' I asked. She shook her head. 'My ex-wife liked being spanked, and other things besides,' I said quietly. I could see I really had caught her interest now.

'You spanked your wife?' she said almost in disbelief, and I could see the curiosity was almost killing her.

'Only because she asked me to. I wouldn't normally go about hitting women, but if a woman really gets pleasure from being spanked, then I'll spank her. My wife loved it, so who was I to deny her that pleasure.'

'What did you use to spank her with?' she asked, all caution swamped by her curiosity.

'Sometimes just my hand,' I answered, holding up my hand to illustrate, 'other times, I used a simple wooden spoon from the kitchen, or one of her slippers, but over the years we built up a few other items, like a spanking paddle, a riding crop, and a garden bamboo cane. I still have them somewhere at home,' I added slyly, hoping she might bite.

'Oh god, that sounds so exciting,' she admitted with a tremor in her voice, and I suspected that she really was excited - sexually. I began to realise that something extraordinary was taking place, but how to take advantage of the situation? I needn't have worried. 'I'd like to see them; the paddles, whip and things...' she tailed off. I agreed that it would be no problem to show her, and asked when would she like to see them, and she surprised me by saying, 'Well, now... tonight if that's possible,' and then she seemed to realise what she'd said. 'Oh god, I sound so forward, and I'm not like this at all usually.' I assured her that I had nothing better to do, and so she made her excuses to her friends and we both left the bar.

I drove her to my house, and before we got out of the car, I suggested she call one of her friends and tell her my address, just as a safety precaution. I wanted her to feel safe and secure in my company. Once that was done I invited her in, and we went into the lounge. She had a good look around, that old feminine curiosity, taking hold.

'Mmm... you have a nice house,' she complimented, and then hesitated. 'So, what do we do now?' I offered her a drink, which she refused, saying she wanted all her wits about her for this first experience. She wanted to remember every single moment, so I left her there to go and get the items I'd previously mentioned. It only took me a minute or two to find what I needed and returned to the lounge. She looked a bit nervous, and so I showed her some of the things I had, like the paddle, whips, handcuffs etc. I suggested she choose anything she wanted to try, and she chose the paddle, and a riding crop, explaining that the bondage items were maybe a step too far for her first experience. She admitted that the thought of being helpless excited her, but it was maybe a bit too much for her first time. I agreed, adding that there was no hurry to introduce her to bondage straight off, she could try that as and when it suited her, and so we were agreed.

'How do we start?' she asked, 'what do I have to do?' I suggested that it would be a good idea if she removed her jeans, so we could spank her bottom unhindered by the thick denim material. 'Okay, that sounds reasonable,' she agreed, and began to unbuckle her belt, her jeans hitting the floor within seconds, where she stepped out of them. She had great legs, long and slim, beautifully shaped, with trim ankles. She also removed her ankle socks. 'Now what?' she asked, and I gave her two options.

'Well I can either get you to bend over my knees, in the traditional position, or perhaps just face down over the table,' to which she replied that lying over my knees at this stage may be a little too intimate, but face down, bending over the table was okay. She compliantly walked over to the dining room table and bent over it, presenting her beautiful slim bottom to me. Her pale skin looked smooth and unmarked - no spots on her bum that I could see. 'Are you ready?' I asked.

'Yes,' she said quietly, 'go easy on me for a start please, until I see how much I can take.' I selected a wooden kitchen spoon, a long-handled heavier one, and stood behind her, studying her bottom. She wore a black thong, very skimpy, which hid very little. In fact, it had, 'ridden,' over to one side, and her shaven pussy was in plain view. I could see her excitement oozing from between the generous labia; I suspected she may have been turned on, but hadn't realised just how much. 'Please,' she almost whispered, 'do it now.' I stepped closer and brought the spoon down on her buttocks with a sharp smack. She yelped, but undeterred, I smacked her again and again, each blow eliciting a whimper or yelp of pain, five or six times until her bottom took on a lovely pink, rosy, 'glow.' I asked her if she wanted more, and she replied,' Oh please, don't stop just yet.' Her breathing was fast and shallow, and I gently massaged her bottom cheeks to help soothe the pain.

'Poor baby,' I said, 'I know it hurts, but bad girls must expect to be punished.' She nodded in agreement, and so I brought the spoon down on her bottom again, and again, covering as much of her bottom as I could. I even pulled her arse cheeks apart, getting in closer to her pussy with the spoon. She moaned and yelped with the mixture of pleasure and pain, and I very gently smacked her puffy cunt lips with the spoon, testing her reactions. She loved that too, so I stopped for a moment. 'Are you happy with this?' I asked, massaging her bottom again, and she nodded her head. 'More of the same?' I suggested, and she nodded vigorously. Without asking her permission, I pulled her panties down, letting them drop to the floor, where she stepped out of them. I picked them up, noticing that in her resumed position, her legs were spread wider than before, the glorious pussy now on full view, and oozing copious amounts of her sexual secretions. Just one question from me, 'Horny?' and she nodded again. I stroked the inside of her thighs with my hand, close to her pussy without actually touching it. She spread her legs wider, and arched her back, displaying herself for me, eager to be touched it seemed to me. I let my hand stroke over the labia, and she moaned, but no protest, so I let one finger part the lips and slip within. There was no resistance, she was far too wet for that. She moaned loudly and shuddered with pleasure as I massaged her pussy, and then I began to spank her methodically, making sure I was covering as much of her bottom with pain as I could. It was all too much for her, she began to come, and within seconds she was writhing and moaning across the table, whimpering and groaning with the pain and pleasure.

I let her come down from the peak of her climax, just standing behind her watching. The tattoo on her bum was clearly visible. I took a handful of her long dark hair, and tugged it viciously, pulling her upright. She turned and came into my arms, thanking me profusely.

'Oh fuck, that was good, I've never felt anything like that before. Thank you so much, it was just... incredible.' I pulled her T-shirt higher, and she raised her arms, letting me strip it from her, and her lacy black bra soon joined her panties on the floor. Now she was naked, and I pinched her nipples, gently to start with, but then harder. Again she moaned, whether with pleasure or pain, I didn't care. I rubbed her pussy again and squeezed the chunky nipples hard. She thrust herself against my fingers letting me know she was eager for more and I experimentally slapped her gorgeous breasts with the wooden spoon. She yelped with the pain, but didn't protest, so I continued, making her breasts as red as her bottom while slipping two, then three fingers into her sodden pussy. She came quicker this time, thrusting hard against the invading fingers in her pussy. She could hardly stand in the aftermath of her orgasm, so I led her back to the table, and she lay face down on the surface again, totally at my convenience. She was still in another world, as I opened up her pussy with both hands and slipped my hard cock into the gap between the spread lips. I slid home into her wetness, her eyes opening momentarily, but closing again, bowing to the inevitable as I began to plunge in and out of her sublimely wet hole. She began to thrust back against me, trying to get as much of my cock as possible. She was an eager and enthusiastic lover, even more so when I began to pull her hair, and spank her with the spoon. She came again, shrieking with pleasure as I fucked her and abused her hot and horny body. Just before I came, I pulled her off the table forcing her to her knees, and she knew what to do, taking me in her mouth and sucking me to a long awaited orgasm. She swallowed the lot, her beautiful dark eyes looking up at me, which only made me more horny but soon she had drained me, and as I dwindled, I pulled her hair again and withdrew from her mouth. She got to her feet on shaky legs and came into my arms again, once more thanking me. I couldn't believe my luck in finding the most wonderful, beautiful lover, and quite by accident too.

Later, both of us with a drink in hand, sat and chatted about what had just taken place. We agreed that we had both had a wonderful time, and we'd like to repeat it as soon as possible.

'I'm sure you have a lot to teach me,' she said, and I agreed, hoping to spin her education out as long as possible.

I didn't see her again for almost a month, which I found disappointing, but various things, work, family commitments, etc, kept us apart. She called me and arranged to come round to my house on the Friday night, and let's not beat about the bush. We both knew why she was coming - she wanted more of the same and to experiment with other new things too. I was of course delighted to oblige her.

This time she looked different; not so much the, 'rock chick,' more of the demure lady. I liked it. She wore a white blouse and a black skirt, and what I hoped were stockings, sheer black and very classy looking, showing off of her fabulous legs. Patent leather high heeled shoes, very high, completed the ensemble and she looked a million dollars. I offered her a drink, and this time she accepted. We were in no hurry, and so we sat and chatted for a while, but I could tell by the constant crossing and uncrossing of her legs that she was becoming quite agitated. A sure sign that she was aroused, and ready to go.

'Sit right on the edge of the sofa please,' I asked her, making it sound like an order. She placed what was left of her drink on the side table, slipping forward to the edge of the sofa as asked. 'Now let's see if you're going to be a nice submissive girl for me,' I said. She didn't reply, but nodded her head confirming my hopes. 'You have beautiful legs,' I commented, and she smiled, thanking me. 'Why don't you just spread them apart for me?' I suggested, and after a momentary hesitation she slowly spread them wide, showing me her slim thighs and confirming that she did indeed have on stockings. 'Oh dear,' I said, in mock disgust, 'stockings! You are a dirty girl, aren't you?' She smiled a wicked smile and again nodded. 'Come here please,' I ordered her, pointing to a spot in front of me, and she got up, off the sofa and stood in front of me where I indicated. I could tell by her breathing that she was very aroused now. I put my hands on her legs and slowly caressed them, letting my hands slide just under the hem of her skirt. I went no further, just maintaining my hold slightly above her knees, sensuously caressing and gently kneading the flesh of her legs. Her legs were trembling with excitement, and much to my delight, she adjusted her stance and now stood with her legs apart. Not too far apart, but enough to give me unhindered access to her pussy if I wanted it. I let my hands slide higher feeling the nylon material of the stockings slowly give way to the beautiful smooth skin of her upper thighs. She gave out a little breathless, whimper of pleasure as I gently stroked and massaged her inner thighs. Instead of going for the ultimate goal of her pussy, I bypassed that particular treasure and went for the panties, hooking the waistband and pulling them down. She obligingly stepped out of them, and stood with her legs apart again, expecting me to go for the next stage, but instead I told her to go and sit back on the sofa again. I knew she'd be confused, but I was teaching her a lesson about obedience, which I knew she would appreciate in the long run. I picked up the panties and examined them as she sat down. The gusset was soaking wet, virtually dripping with her juices, and she looked embarrassed.