My Black Eye

I'd been overseas for a couple of months. Before I left I contracted with a gardening service to make sure that my place didn't start looking deserted and arranged with an obliging neighbour to clear out my letter box for the few odd letters that might arrive.

I finished up my stint about a month early, work completed. I was offered an opportunity to stay on for another three months but managed to decline gracefully. It's counter-productive to tell someone that they're an asshole and that I found working with them to be akin to working in a torture chamber, with me having to test the torture implements -- on myself. Yeah, you could say I had an incentive to do a sterling job and finish early.

I was pleased to note that my garden looked fine and there wasn't a backlog of junk-mail clustered around my letter-box. I garaged the car and went inside. The first think I did was to have a decent shower to wash away the travel dust. Leaving the bathroom, a lion refreshed, I walked straight into a fist that landed on my eye.

The fist was small and hard and accompanied by a startled scream. My immediate reaction on being assaulted was to fight back and I had a bunched fist heading directly at the face behind the fist that had greeted me. Fortunately for all concerned I noticed that the aforesaid face was small and quite pretty, and very feminine in nature.

I managed to stop my blow about an inch from that pretty face. This resulted in a horrified shriek and a little fist trying to dot my other eye. I caught that little fist so that no damage was done.

I spoke too soon. A hard little foot connected with my shin, causing me to lose my grip on that fist, and then my assailant was high-tailing it out of there.

"Hold it right there, Cheryl," I snarled, and she came to a halt and turned to look at me.

"Mr Adams," she gasped, then she gave another little scream. "Oh my god. You're naked."

With that realisation the high-tailing resumed at an even faster pace.

I shrugged and watched her go. I knew where she lived. So what if I was naked? I'd just stepped out of the shower in my own house. Why wouldn't I be naked? Sucks to be Cheryl right then. She got an eyeful while being somewhere she shouldn't have been. I'd have to wander over and ask what the hell was going on.

Lovely little Cheryl was not the neighbour that I'd asked to keep an eye on things. She wasn't even the daughter of said neighbour. She and her sister lived across the road with their parents. If memory served me correctly Cheryl was nineteen and Marie was twenty-one.

After I was dressed I looked up the Megains' number and called their house. I was lucky as Cheryl answered.

"Cheryl," I said cheerfully. "How nice to hear from you. Ah, I was wondering if you'd like to drop past and explain to me what was going on earlier. No need to worry. I'm fully dressed."

"Um, I'd rather not," she mumbled.

"That's OK. I can always drop over there and ask your parents what's going on. I'm sure I'll be fascinated to hear the details."

"You can't do that!" she yelled, apparently finding her full voice.

"Sure I can. I just step out my front door, cross the road, and walk up to your front door. If you like, I'll wait until your father gets home so he can arbitrate."

"No!" She sounded a little upset.

"So what's it going to be? Are you coming over here to explain or do I visit you, asking for that explanation?"

"Fine! I'll come over."

She might have said fine but she sure didn't mean it. Looking out the window I could see her coming like a little thundercloud that's determined to rain on its target of choice.

"Come on in," I said, holding the door open as she approached.

I ushered her into the front room and she sat on the couch, looking demure and furious. Also slightly embarrassed when she chose to look at me, which was only momentary. I wasn't sure about the source of the embarrassment, my earlier nudity or the nice shiner I was starting to sport. I'd have a genuine black eye in another hour or so.

I waited, not saying anything, letting the silence get to her. She finally started talking.

"Marie's boyfriend is a bully and a thug. Ex-boyfriend, really, as she dumped him, but she had to take out a restraining order against him. She's currently staying at my Uncle's place but Brad is trying to find her anyway. I saw him hanging around my place earlier and as I would have been home alone I chose not to go home. I knew you were away so I decided to hide in your place. When you lunged at me in the hallway I thought it was him and panicked. The rest you know. It's not my fault that you were at home."

"That leaves so many questions. Why didn't you call the police if Brad was hanging around? I'm quite sure the restraining order would have covered you place."

"It does and I called the police as soon as I got inside. They were hauling him away when I went back home."

She seemed quite pleased about that.

"Speaking of getting inside, how did you do that?"

"Um." She blushed and dithered and finally confessed. "My father taught us how to pick a lock in case we were ever locked out. It works on your lock quite easily."

Fair enough. It looked like I needed to upgrade my locks.

"I see. All fully understandable. Of course, from where I stand you're guilty of breaking and entering, trespass, and assault. And you're also guilty of gross stupidity. If I hadn't managed to not punch you I could have smashed your face. I'm talking two black-eyes, a broken nose, broken teeth, and even a broken cheek bone. What would that Brad character have done if you'd punched him?"

"It wasn't my fault. I panicked. You'd panic, too, if a naked man jumped out at you."

"I don't know about panic but I'd certainly be disconcerted. And I didn't exactly jump. Just stepped out of my own bathroom. Ah, you haven't covered the other items I mentioned. You know, the criminal offences?"

"I didn't do any of those things. Trespass, possibly, but that's nothing."

"I disagree and my eye disagrees." I indicated said eye and smiled when she looked at it and winced.

"Yes, well I'm sorry about that but you shouldn't have startled me."

"There's an etiquette for leaving a bathroom that I don't know about?" I asked.

"Yes," she snapped. "You wrap a towel around yourself instead of flaunting yourself."

I had to laugh. Flaunting myself?

"If I'd known that you were there I would have, but I don't usually allow for burglars being in the house."

"I wasn't a burglar!" Rather irritated it seemed.

"Would the police agree with you?"

"Who cares? It's not as though you're going to call them, now is it."

She seemed quite confident of that and I had to agree that she was right. I'd have to be an asshole to do something like that. Didn't mean I couldn't stir a little more.

"You're right. Why bother the police over something I can handle myself? I think a simple paddling will serve as a reminder to think before you jump into sticky situations."

"What!? There's no way I'm going to let you spank me."

"Well of course you wouldn't. I was just assuming that that's the sort of penalty that your father will apply when I tell him about this little debacle."

"He wouldn't believe you." I pointed to my eye and she changed her mind. "Okay, he might believe you but he wouldn't spank me."

"No? Ah, what would he do to punish you?"

"He'd, ah, he'd, oh my god." Her voice trailed away and she suddenly looked horrified.

"Yes?" I prompted.

"You can't tell him. He'd ground me, or take my phone away forever, or say no electronics at all for a month. Oh my god. My social life will be ruined. You can't tell him. You can't tell my mother either. She'd be worse. You'll have to do it."

"Excuse me? Do what?"

"Spank me. You'll have to do it yourself."

If I had false teeth I'd probably have swallowed them at that stage.

"Me?"

"Yes, you! If it's a choice of you spanking me or blabbing to my parents I'll take the spanking every time."

"Seriously?" I wasn't sure that I believed her. She had to be kidding.

"Yes, seriously."

I moved over and sat on the couch next to her.

"Okay. Bend over my knee." That was putting it on the line for her.

"What, now?"

"Why wait? You can always leave and hope I don't tell your parents."

She started chewing on her lip while she thought it over. Would I or would I not tell her parents? She just couldn't be certain. I could almost see from the look on her face when she decided to take the spanking right now so that the whole incident was finished.

She bent over my knee most reluctantly, but she did bend over. A hand on her back held her there and I flipped her dress up out of the way. That didn't provoke a reaction so I peeled her panties down. That certainly provoked reaction.

"Wait a minute. What are you doing?"

"Just lowering your panties before I spank your bottom, of course," I said in a most reasonable voice. "Um, come to think of it, if you change your mind and decide to run away you could trip on these and hurt yourself. Better if I take them right off."

I suited my actions to my words while she protested rather indignantly. Didn't help as I just dropped her panties onto the floor in front of her. Seeing them there would be an ongoing reminder that she was now commando.

My hand started drifting lightly over her bottom. Just my fingertips really, wandering around.

"I'm in a bit of a conundrum," I grumbled. "If you were my daughter I'd know just how to spank you. The same if you were a child."

"With their panties on, I would hope," came the snapped comment.

"Well, yes, in their case," I agreed. "You, however, are a lovely and nubile young woman, and spanking your pretty little tush isn't the first thing that comes to mind."

"If you think I'm having sex with you then you can damn well think again."

"I didn't think any such thing," I protested, my fingertips still trailing aimlessly around. I did notice that that light touch was being felt enough to provoke some reactions that I'm quite sure Cheryl would rather not happen.

"No, I'm just wondering how hard and how long I should spank you. I wouldn't want you to feel short-changed with the spanking. I mean, you might start feeling guilty if you got off scot-free. On top of that I'll have to be careful about how I spank you. While the buttocks are fair game it would probably embarrass you if I spanked you here, for instance."

My hand slipped between her legs, gently cupping her mound. Really, if she hadn't wanted me to she should have kept her legs together. It turned out she didn't appreciate that touch as she squealed and twisted about rather strenuously, resulting on her slipping off my knee and sitting on the carpet.

She glared up at me, plainly furious. Too furious, apparently, to notice that her dress had ridden up and she was revealing all. I manfully ignored the view.

"You -- you rotten brute," she gasped out. "You've got no intention of spanking me, have you?"

"Not under these conditions," I admitted. "A sexy spanking leading up to some mutual carnal delight would be another matter. Unfortunately even that can't take place right now."

"Yes, because I won't permit it," she snapped.

"Um, no," I said, picking up her panties and putting them in my pocket. "Because Mrs Jackson is walking up the path, carrying the mail she's been gathering for me while I was away. She must have spotted me arriving home."

A horrified Cheryl was on her feet in a flash, straightening her clothes as she moved.

"My panties," she hissed, looking a little annoyed. (Okay -- A lot annoyed.)

I opened the front door just as Mrs Jackson was about to knock. I invited her in while ushering Cheryl out.

"If you care to drop back this evening I'll have a character reference written out for you. Good luck on your application."

I closed the door on her while she was trying to mumble something. I don't think she knew what she wanted to say and I certainly didn't understand a word of it.

"Mrs Jackson," I said, turning to her with a smile. A stickler for the formalities that woman. Fortunately one of those formalities was to be a good neighbour and do things like collect mail.

I asked if she'd like some coffee and she hastily refused. What, be alone with a man in his house for more than a minute? Unheard of. I suspect that the main reason she came over wasn't to deliver the mail but to see what Cheryl was up to. As she'd overheard an explanation she was ready to leave. Cheryl would have questions to answer about what she was applying for and given warnings about visiting a man's house.

"Even though it's not my place to say so," she'd start off, and then deliver horrendous warnings that were certainly none of her business. Just her being a good neighbour. I guess that comes off as rather petty of me but all-in-all she was a nice woman and I rather liked her. Just a little too concerned about formalities at times.

With the house to myself I sorted out the mail, most of it junk, and then relaxed. I didn't need to be in the office until the following week and I had that rare occurrence of time on my hands and nothing in particular that I needed to do. It's good to be lazy occasionally.

I was slightly surprised to have Cheryl come and visit me that evening. I politely ushered her into the front room and suggested she take a seat. She perched on the edge of the couch, looking nervous.

"Um, you've got my panties," she mumbled.

"Quite right. I forgot all about those."

I fished them out of my pocket and politely handed them to her. She blushed as she took them and hurriedly stuffed them in a pocket of her skirt. That actually made me take a closer look at her. She'd changed her outfit and was now wearing a skirt and button up blouse. It seemed to me that she had one button too many undone, giving a very attractive cleavage. Also, I was prepared to swear that she wasn't wearing a bra. The wobble of her breasts under that blouse was rather more pronounced than it had been earlier.

"Um, I really came over to apologise," she told me.

"You already did for this," I observed, lightly touching my shiner.

"Oh. Did I?"

"You did."

"Oh. Well I feel I should apologise for the other stuff as well. I shouldn't have broken in and I'm sorry."

"Don't worry about it. You felt you were in a possibly dangerous situation and took steps to make sure you weren't. Quite a sensible thing to do, really."

"Thank you. Ah, were you really going to spank me earlier?"

"Possibly, possibly. Maybe you were fortunate that Mrs Jackson arrived when she did. I guess you'll never know."

She looked at the floor and gave a little sigh.

"I feel so guilty when I look at you. That eye looks terrible."

"Just some minor bruising. It'll fade quite fast. If anyone comments I'll just mention a door. One thing I won't mention is a sweet young thing with a wicked right fist."

She blushed and looked elsewhere again.

"Um, Mrs Jackson isn't here now," she observed.

And was that a broad hint that it was time for a spanking? Only one way to find out. I crossed over to the couch and sat down next to her. A gentle bit of pressure and she leaned over my knee again, apparently receptive to the idea of really getting a spanking.

Skirt up and panties down and off brought no response apart from a slight gasp as her panties departed. Her legs were parted enough to reveal her mound, and I was prepared to swear that it hadn't been that smooth when I'd seen it earlier. My hand glided lightly over her bottom, finally lifting and come down in a sharp spank.

That got a bit of a reaction. A sort of squeaking noise escaped her and her legs parted just a little more. I settled down to giving her a nice little spanking. Nothing too onerous but certainly enough to make her bottom smart. I also observed the results.

Her pudenda were parting, her inner lips protruding, moisture glistening in the folds of flesh. When I considered the time was right I swung her back to her feet and then pulled her back down so she was sitting on my lap.

I flicked open another couple of buttons on her blouse, spreading the sides apart to reveal her breasts. She started to say something but I simply pressed a finger against her lips and shook my head. She subsided and my hand closed over a pink-tipped breast. Her nipples were already erect and I was happy to start teasing them.

Bending my head I caught a nipple in my mouth while my hand slid along the inside of her leg, finding and closing over her vulva. She let out a faint whimpering sound but didn't try to stop me. I stroked and probed, exploring her intimately. I determined that she wasn't a virgin and while not very experienced she was willing to gain a bit more.

Just to confirm that I wasn't rushing her into something she didn't want I unzipped and moved her hand to my open fly. She barely hesitated, her hand slipping inside my trousers to see what she could find. Finding what she wanted she manoeuvred it into the open and started playing with it.

By this time she had plenty to play with. I was absolutely rigid, standing thick and tall and she had her hands full.

I kept on touching and teasing, nibbling on her nipples, kissing her face, doing my best to bring her to a point of complete receptiveness. I finally bent her back, moving her off my knee and flat on her back on the couch. Her skirt was rucked up around her waist and the blouse was wide open, her breasts on display, nipples glistening slightly from my saliva.

I pushed my trousers right down, moving to settle myself between her thighs. I moved her hands into position, one on my cock and the other on her mons. My own hands moved up to cover her breasts. Cheryl knew exactly what she wanted. She parted her lips with one hand while delicately steering me into place with the other. As soon as I was in place I started pushing into her. She gave a little cry and pushed up hard to meet me, and I drove fully into her with that first thrust.

Her legs came up and wrapped around me and her hands clutched at my shoulders. Any reluctance or nervousness on her part must have been completely within my imagination. It was rather obvious that she knew just what she wanted.

I started moving inside her and her response was immediate and instinctive. She clung tightly to me, her hips moving smoothly to meet my thrusts, and that erotic sensation of flesh rubbing against flesh was very much in evidence.

We'd only been going for about a minute when she started giving out with eager little murmurs of approval. That was another thing that I found erotic, the way she was unashamedly enjoying me. (Fair enough, I suppose, as I was most certainly enjoying her.)

We kept on going. Neither of us in a rush to finish things off, both content to let it stretch. We had a nice rhythm going with no real sense of urgency.

Yet!

That sense of urgency slowly grew, with our rhythm picking up pace as it did so. Finally we were going hot and heavy, with me driving in just as hard as I could with Cheryl happily lifting up to take what I was giving her.

Being the senior partner I felt it was up to me to make sure she was completely satisfied before I took my own satisfaction but she was so sweet that it was a near run thing. I was relieved when she climaxed and let my own climax surge forth, pleasure washing over both of us, and that's the way it should be.

We disengaged and I slipped off the couch to kneel on the floor next to it. I then unfastened her skirt and drew it down her legs. She grabbed at it, surprised.

"What are you doing?" she asked.

"Taking off your skirt, which will be followed by the removal of your blouse. When you are completely naked I'm going to fetch a bowl of warm water and wipe your body down. After that I'll lay you on your tummy and give you a massage. When you are completely relaxed from the massage I am going to enjoy your lovely body again, taking my time over it. I'm of the firm opinion that seconds are to be slowly devoured and that's what is going to happen to you."