This story has appeared before on “The Library of Spanking Fiction“. It was also published in e-book format by LSF Publications and is available for sale.
The ceiling fan whirs as it turns its endless circles above the kitchen table. I am waiting for you to come down. It’s the first time for me to visit the house of your parents but they aren’t home, just like your little brother. I am not exactly sure of how warm it is, but it is close to 40 degrees Celsius and that is a bit above my comfort zone. My hand clutches a refrigerated can of soda and is becoming wet with the condensation forming on the can. I don’t mind because water is the only thing that can provide adequate refreshment.
Finally you come downstairs. You put on a short, white dress that leaves a lot of your back exposed. Under the dress, I can clearly make out the green bikini you’re wearing. For me, you have a pair of blue swimming trunks. They belong to your brother and I can borrow them for today.
“Okay, let’s go to the lake,” you say with enthusiasm.
Before I know it, we’re in your small, beat-up Volkswagen, hurtling at break-neck speed down the narrow road that will take us to the lake. The top is down and the rush of wind is warm. At this speed, talking is nearly impossible because of the wind noise and the blaring car radio. Instead, I kill the time by looking at you as you drive the car. You love speed, that’s obvious. The smile on your face betrays how much you enjoy the wind whipping your rather short hair this way and that. Shadows and sun alternate each other on your arms as we speed past trees. The upbeat music from the car stereo encourages you to drive faster and with a touch of worry I observe you slamming the gear in third to slow down for a curve. The engine revs as if in protest to being treated in this manner. Carefree, you round the curve and slam down on the gas. The engine roars and the aging Volkswagen gains speed for the last bit of road, uphill.
Over the hill, we have a view of the lake. It is roughly triangular, with a tiny island in the top of the triangle. The island is in the furthest tip of the lake from where we are. On our side, there is a small beach made up of gravel and sand and this is where local people go in the summer to cool down. Surprisingly, it is not crowded today. The gravel parking lot has only 5 cars in it and a few bicycles. We park next to the other vehicles already there and instead of opening the door of the car, you just climb out the side. I choose a more traditional way of leaving the car. Carefree as you are, you leave the top down and walk to the beach right away. The path there is quite uneven and you’re only wearing flip-flops, but somehow you manage to look graceful walking in those too.
We find an empty space on a patch of sand to spread out the towels. The nearest people, a couple with two small children are over 30 meters away. I watch in admiration as you unzip your dress in the back and let it slide down your body. It falls in a crumpled heap at your feet and you don’t bother to pick it up. From where I am sitting on the sand, I can look up at you, appearing almost statuesque against the clear blue sky. You’re slender, with long legs, a heart shaped bottom, flat stomach, small breasts, a rather long but elegant neck, slightly pointed chin, a nose that’s a tad too small for your face. Your eyes are a bit wide apart and have an intense green color, though now they look more blue as they reflect the water.
Your hair is a light brown but the sunlight has bleached a lot of it so that you are almost blond now. I can’t help but wonder why such a lovely, elegant, intelligent and spontaneous young woman would want to hang out with me and be friends. And even a bit more than friends, if you count that one night after a rock concert. From the first day we met, when I lent you my pen, you have been nice to me. I always believed that beautiful women were dangerous, especially when they knew they were beautiful. But when I tell you that I think you are beautiful, you just brush it off like dry sand.
“Are you going to change into your swimming trunks or are you going to sit there staring?”
Your question brings me back to the present. I get to my feet and begin to undress. I realise that I will have to be naked there for a short time when I take off my underwear and before I can step into my swimming trunks. That makes me feel slightly uncomfortable, so I turn my back and do it as fast as I can.
“Jesus, do you ever get in the sun?” you ask, sounding shocked.
It’s true, my skin is so white that I actually reflect the sunlight and blind anyone looking directly at me.
“Not much,” I admit. Next to you, I look even more white.
“Well, you’re going to burn up alive if we don’t put something on you.”
You rummage around in your satchel and produce a bottle of sun block which you toss at me. I manage to catch it, much to my surprise and start smearing. You offer to do my back for me and I agree. It feels good to have your slender fingers touch my back, which is already hot from the sunlight. I then offer to help you. You let me do your back. Lying on your stomach, you undo the spaghetti strap of your bikini top on your back. I feel privileged just touching you like this. Your bronzed skin feels warm and soft under my fingertips as I rub the cream into your back. I then start on your legs and you don’t object. In fact, you close your eyes and let out a dreamy sigh. Pushing my luck a little, I let my hand wander up your inner thigh a bit further than strictly necessary, but you don’t seem to mind.
“You’re good at that,” you say as your only comment.
“Thank you, it’s my pleasure.”
“Maybe I should have you do every inch of me… you really are good with your hands. You always manage to find the right spots.”
“Thanks. I’d be happy to.“You giggle.
“Yes, I’m sure you would. But we’re wasting a great day and it’s time for a swim!”
That’s so typical of you. You seem to have this way of getting me all worked up and then changing the subject. And you don’t even seem to know that you’re doing it.
Protected from the sun by the sunblock, we walk to the waterline. We walk next to each other. As we walk into the water, it feels cool but not cold. Perfect to cool off in.
“Let’s swim to the island,” you say.
I have my doubts as it is quite far, probably more than one and a half kilometres, but I don’t want you to think that I am chicken so I agree. It’s quite a swim, fortunately for both of us. However, it’s clear who has more stamina because as we get closer to the island, you start leading more and more. You look over your shoulder and shout at me to encourage me. Slowly, the island gets closer and closer and finally, we scramble through underwater vegetation onto the beach. The island is hardly worth the name. There are 4 or 5 small trees standing in the centre, where there is some grass. All around the grassy area, on the water’s edge, are high reeds. We lie down on the grass, resting and catching our breath.
From where we are, we are totally obscured from anyone’s view. Taking advantage of that fact, you take your bikini top off, baring your perky breasts. I can’t help but think how beautiful you are. Lying down here, it is possible to imagine that we are the only two people on the planet. The only sounds are those of the light breeze playing with the leaves on the trees and rustling through the reeds. We hear birds and insects and the calming sound of small waves murmuring and breaking on pebbles. We smell fragrant wild flowers. The water cooled us down and now the sun is warming us up again, it is hard not to become sleepy. I can feel the sun drying up the drops on my skin, the wind playing with the hairs on my chest. I am calm and relaxed. Suddenly, your voice pierces the silence.
“Isn’t this a great spot?”
“Yes, it is … very nice.”
“I love to come here in the summer.”
“I understand why.”
You are quiet for a bit and then another question.
“If there is one thing you could have or do right now, what would that be?”
“Anything at all?”
“No matter if it is possible or not?”
“Yes, just anything.”
“Well, if there is something I could do … just anything…”
“I’m not sure if I can just say it. You’ll think I’m weird.”
“I already do, so…”
“In that case … I’d spank you.”
Did I just say that out loud? Yes, I suppose I did because there is no response. Then, there’s a slight chuckle and then you laugh out loud. It’s an honest laugh though, not a laugh to make fun of me. When I open my eyes, I find that you are leaning on one elbow, looking down on me. The nipple closest to me almost touches my arm.
“That was not a joke, was it?”
Your voice sounds cool and not shocked. Your face does not betray any negative feelings about the idea.
“No, it was not a joke.”
“Why did you pick that?”
“I just like to do it.”
“You’d like to spank me?”
Your face frowns up a bit now, but it’s a thinking frown.
“Well … why not? I mean … you’ve got a great bottom that’s just begging for it.”
You turn your head to the side, pretending to listen.
“I don’t hear it asking for anything,” you say, with a clever smile on your face. I can’t help but smile.
“See, that’s exactly why you need a spanking!”
You laugh too.
“I hadn’t thought you would be kinky.”
“Well … I guess I am.”
You’re quiet for a second, thinking again.
“So … how would you do it?”
“Yes, of course the spanking!”
“Well, I suppose I’d start by taking you over my knee.”
“Like this?” you ask, as you position yourself over my lap. As you do, both your nipples brush over the top of my thighs. I sit up startled. I hadn’t expected you to react like that!
“Sort of, yes,” I answer.
“Okay, and then?”
“I suppose I’d bare your bottom.”
You look up at me expectantly.
“So, what are you waiting for?”
A bit flushed, I hook my fingers under the waistband of your bikini bottoms.
“No, no … wait a second, tiger! You’d better hike them up instead of pulling them down.”
A bit flustered, I agree. I pull up the material of your bikini bottoms so that most of your bottom cheeks are bare. I have quite a lovely view now.
“So, what happens next?”
I place my hand on your bottom and softly begin to rub it, squeeze it, pinch it and massage it.
“That doesn’t feel much like a spanking,” you say, clearly enjoying the sensations.
“Patience,” I say. “We’re getting there.” The first slaps are soft, barely producing any sting. They help to get the blood flowing though. I continue delivering soft slaps, letting your bottom jiggle until I see some pink developing. Now the spanks are getting a bit harder, still not really spanks, but these you are feeling clearly. You rest your head on your folded hands and look totally relaxed.
“How are you doing there?” I ask.
“Fine … it feels tingling. It’s not too bad.”
Again, I slightly increase the force of my spanks, keeping the frequency low and rubbing in between.
“Ow … that stings…”
“No … have I been bad?”
“Yes, I think so.” You wriggle your bottom a bit. I see that as an invitation to continue, so I do. Your response continues to be soft “ooohs” and “aaaahs”. Nothing to indicate that you are really in pain. I also know you well enough to trust you to stop me when it’s going too far. As your bottom reddens, I decide to take it up another notch. Your response becomes a bit more pronounced, but there are no indications that you are in much discomfort. I keep this pace and force for some time, then I decide it is time for the big finish. With my hand on your bottom, I tell you the following.
“We’re almost done. But I think I need to finish with ten good, solid smacks. What do you think?”
“Ten? I can take those!”
I am surprised that you agree to take even more. You look quite red from where I am sitting.
“Tell me if it is too much, okay?”
“Of course!” The first good swat hits your solidly on the right cheek. You flinch, but otherwise there is no reaction. It is the same for the second swat onto your left cheek. One by one the slaps hit your bottom and I can now clearly make out some finger marks as well as a distinct redness. You flinch and squirm a tiny bit and I can see your muscles clench. You seem very determined to take all ten though, as you bite your lower lip. I admire your determination. With the last 10 swats given, I stop and release your bikini bottoms. You reach back and rub your cheeks, but there’s a big smile on your face.
“So, how was that?” I ask.
You sit up and the dry, tough grass makes you grimace as you sit on it.
“It wasn’t bad, actually … I thought it would hurt more.”
“Not a bad experience then?”
“No … it sort of made me feel like a 40’s movie star…”
Only you could come up with that kind of comparison. And you do resemble a kind of modern Veronica Lake.
We decide to enjoy the sun a bit more. This time you lie on your tummy with your hands folded beneath your head. Your eyes are closed and you are still naked except for the small bikini bottoms. The slight red and pink blotches on your bottom contrast clearly with the green bikini bottoms.
“My bottom feels warm in the sun,” you say, as if you are reading my mind.
“Of course it does. Would you like me to kiss it better?”
You raise your head, look at me and then slowly begin to smile.
“Okay,” you say. I bend down, bring my lips close to your bottom cheeks and then press a long, soft kiss on each one. When I look up at you, I see you smile, but there is also a mischievous spark in your eyes.
“So … does this mean you’re officially an ass-kisser?” you say.
I smile, then feign anger.
“What did you say?”
With a shriek, you scramble to your feet and assume a position from which it is easy to sprint away, either left of right. I also get up and feeling your playful mood, I pretend to come and grab you. You evade me easily and start running around the small growth of trees, your bare breasts bouncing with every step. I run after you and after a few evasive turns, I manage to grab you around the waist, pick you up off the ground and in one smooth movement, manage to turn you over one upturned knee. You wriggle and squirm a bit but there’s no real resistance.
“Ass-kisser, hm? I will show you ass-kisser,” I growl in mock anger. I place a few solid smacks on your bottom and you shriek and squirm but there’s still no real resistance. Suddenly feeling brazen, I decide to go a bit further. I hook my fingers behind the waistband of your bikini bottoms.
“You know something? I think it is time for these to come down.”
“Oh no…” you moan. You moan is somewhere between anticipation, embarrassment, nervousness and excitement. I notice you are breathing rapidly and that there are goosebumps on your arm. Are you excited? Yes, it certainly seems that way. I can’t deny that I am becoming excited as well, with your warm, nubile body over my knee and about to uncover your behind. Since there is no real protest, no objection or anything in your posture that shows you are uncomfortable with the situation, I slowly, teasingly slide your bikini bottoms down.
“Oooohhhhh,” you moan.
“There, much better,” I say. You look at me from over your shoulder. Your cheeks have become flushed and your pupils are clearly dilated. Your mouth is open somewhat and I can see moisture on your lips.
“Are you going to spank me more?” you ask.
I smile and answer by simply slapping your bottom cheeks again. Your face turns to look away. You shriek and moan but there is something else underneath the obvious reactions. The tone of your shrieks and moans is altered by what I believe to be excitement. I continue the spanking until your bottom is quite red and your squirms are becoming earnest. When I stop, you go limp over my knee and your right hand flies back to feel your bottom.
“Oh, it’s so hot!”
“As it should be. So, am I still an ass-kisser?”
“Oh no…” Your hand returns to the ground, supporting your body again and I have a very lovely view of your two upturned cheeks which are nice and red. I can’t help but touch them to feel their heat.
“So, have you learnt your lesson and can I let you up or do I need to go on spanking you?”
“No, I learnt my lesson,” you say, almost whispering.
I help you to your feet and as you get up, your bikini bottoms slide down further to your knees where they remain. I can’t help looking at you, how you look and also the expression on your face. Gone is the playful little girl that you were just before the spanking. I see a face that is tense with excitement now. You don’t mind your bikini bottoms at half mast, that is clear. Seconds later, you kick them off towards the area where we resting just moments ago.
You are there, naked and looking right at me. You come to stand in front of me, your nipples almost touching my chest. Before I know what happens, your lips are on mine, kissing me urgently. I wrap my arms around you, my hands sliding down your back and coming to rest on your bottom. It is very warm, but so is the rest of you now. We are locked in a tight embrace, kissing, feeling each other. Somehow we end up lying on the grass. The rough, dry grass is prickling my back, bottom and legs, but on top of me is a soft, warm woman, kissing and fumbling to get my swimming trunks off. We make love in the shadow of the small trees, hidden from view by the reeds. I had no idea that today would turn out like this.
Lazy and satisfied, we are lying naked next to each other on our backs in the shadow. Rays of sunlight filter through the canopy of leaves above us, playing on the grass and on our skin. Finally, I manage to raise myself up on my elbows to look at you. You look happy and peaceful. There is no sight more pleasing in this world than that of a beautiful woman, drowsy with sexual satisfaction. I could lie down like this for ever, next to you. Inside of me, I feel an incredible joy, satisfaction and gratitude. The feeling is impossible to put into words.
“Thank you,” I say, knowing that the words are painfully inadequate.
You turn your face towards me and smile up at me in a lazy manner.
“It was my pleasure,” you say, and I don’t doubt that for one second.
“I had no idea … I mean … that you would enjoy this…”
You frown a little, trying to look angry but failing miserably.
“Don’t you get any ideas. I’m already plotting my revenge.”
“I can’t wait.”
Later still, we swim back to the beach, dressed in our swimwear again of course. As we leave the water, I have to suppress a laugh. Swimming has reawakened the redness on your bottom cheeks and as you walk up the beach back to our towels, the redness forms a strong contrast with your green bikini. Should someone be watching us, they’d have a pretty good idea of what we had been up to. Fortunately for us, the beach is nearly deserted and either way, I would not have the heart to tell you.