Not Just a Spanking Pt. 01

So I have a loving husband, a considerate man who hardly ever has a cross word for me, never took liberties, a kind gentle lover who'd never even think about treating me harshly and certainly never raise a hand to me. My loving woke hubby from well before woke was a thing, father to my kids, hard working provider.

That sort of maybe explains why I was secretly hanging out in online in chat rooms, chatting about spanking stories in my early forties. Mostly ones where one thing led to another so to speak. So I found a virtual online friend, name of Palmer. He seemed to like the mostly the same kind of stories albeit ones where the man was... very focused on doing things with more mature bottoms shall we say. Smart, educated. We talked, carefully, circuitously, we both had a partner and wouldn't do anything to change that but neither of us were getting that particular itch scratched albeit from different sides of the equation so to speak. So never going to happen right? No chance! Unless someone said something really fucking stupid like 'What if it was just a spanking? Not, you know, actual cheating?'

Someone stupid, yeah. Me.

Eventually after some hemming and hawing and back and forth on how, the by then almost inevitable happened. A not quite as indecent as it might have been rendezvous in the afternoon in a posh hotel room in London.

He had texted me the room number and I entered after he had time to settle. He was sitting in a large leather chair in the room, the only thing I could focus on.

He was, well I won't say exactly a gentleman but well dressed, confident and nicely spoken. I did note a slight smirk as I stood before him the first time. We'd discussed it online so there was, deliberately, little to say. With only a little more than some pleasantries I can't even remember I was standing before him, he was seated in the only chair in the hotel room as I undressed for a man, who wasn't my husband. Not something I could say had happened in the last twenty years or so! God it was shameful, humiliating and, yes, seriously exciting, as I stripped for him, heart racing. It wasn't a striptease, a bit beyond me at my age but a simple... well... submission. He gave that slight smirk again and patted his lap. I was inexplicably thrilled to be accepted by that simple gesture. A sort of little victory in my afternoon's... deliberate degradation.

Now I am sure that for many reading this, it's just coy tease and foreplay but that was my first time, even after fantasizing about it for years. It's hard to say just how I felt as I presented myself for him. Submitted to another man, a not quite stranger. Bum up in the air. My plump mature bottom on display and ready as I felt the warmth of his body as I lay over him, hands and feet on the floor, another little bite of exciting shame as I spread my legs to steady myself in what must have been a rather revealing move now I think back.

I had my second little victory as I heard a murmur of pleasure and felt his bare hand stroke my bare bum. Lingering caresses had not been discussed but god the thrill! My plump mature bottom having that affect!

'Lovely' he murmured as he started, with nothing more than gentle pat, to set my bum wobbling. Slowly he upped the force in his blows, hand cupped, the sound sending a shiver of shame though me as each clap on my arse set my body wobbling. Cheeks flushed, god so shameful. I swear I could smell my excitement.

At that point it was getting a little physically awkward. As it may be obvious I'm no longer a slim petite young thing and it became clear the position was not going to allow much in the way of a real spanking. I felt... so disappointed. It was going to end there.

'Get down on the floor I think, on elbows and knees.'

I am not sure if I made a noise, certainly not any form of speech.

Now placing yourself over a man's lap is, well, many things but it's not really easily confused with any other possibility. Getting down on all fours on the carpet and presenting your bum to him is rather another.

I began to realise just what I must have looked like, hard to imagine he did not notice my... state of excitement. I may actually have wiggled my bottom. Possibly.

Then, well I may never know what might have happened if I'd retained the power of speech as he knelt down beside me and started to spank me. Bastard! Getting me in that state and that position and just spanking me!

Pretty soon he'd picked up the pace, much faster this time, god. My bum was wobbling, belly and breast swinging, bottom smarting as he started counting the real spanks, each one reddening my upturned bum and driving home my indecent, even slutty behaviour. I shoved my face into the thick carpet muffling my... noises. Not cries... more moans.

After he counted, as agreed, a dozen real smarting spanks, six on each cheek, sounding alarmingly loud in the room he stopped, hand sliding softly and gently over my now smarting reddened bum.

I heard a 'Thank you lovely, we'll talk later' and I heard him rise and, in retroflect he must have been a little unsteady himself, as I heard a pause and then the click of the door as he quietly left. We'd agreed a no fuss exit beforehand, neither of us sure how we would feel in advance.

My fingers were between my legs instantly, frigging myself like I was a teenager again, muffling my rapid orgasm in the thick shag carpet of the plush hotel room. As senses returned I realised to my horror I had not even locked the door. Hopefully it wasn't actually as loud as it felt.

Suddenly feeling a shiver as excitement subsided. I regained my breath. I pulled on my clothes once more. I looked round taking in the room, thick carpet, wood four poster bed, leather wing back chair. My gaze went from chair to bed and back again before I stared at where I had been kneeling, carpet still showing the indentations. I looked at that a long time.

Nope, this was clearly not going to be just a spanking if the rest of me apart from my head had anything to do with it. Stupid, stupid fucking me.