I couldn't believe it. I wanted too, but I couldn't: Anita just wasn't that forward. I looked at her face, her eyes wide with fear and hope, her lips parted slightly. I looked at her, bare from shoulder to waist but for her bra, and again I wanted my hands on her breasts. Gently, I put my hands on her shoulders while she watched me, waiting for an answer. I ran my fingers down her back to her bra and fumbled with it until it unclipped.
But I put a finger on her lips to quiet her and she did not protest. I pulled her bra off and spent a few glorious moments staring at her. But I was in for a spanking, and staring would not be the impetus she needed to make it happen, so I grabbed each of her nipples between thumb and forefinger and pinched.
Anita screeched. She had me face down in a leg lock before I knew what was happening. Somewhere in there my panties were removed. She did it so quickly and efficiently that I didn’t notice until they were gone. She slapped my bottom sharply. I yelped. I couldn't help it.
“You brat!” Anita shouted.
She spanked me again, and I yelped again. On and on it went. She spanked me hard and it hurt and I yelled for her to stop. Instead, she held me in her powerful legs and continued. I thought on nothing but the pain, the overwhelming sting that ignited in my bare buttocks and spread down my thighs to my knees to my toes which clenched like fists. It traveled up my spine to my shoulders, hard and tensed, and down my arms to my hands which grasped the comforter we’d put on the floor. I wiggled and bucked and kicked as best I could, but Anita held me firm.
After a while, I have no idea how long, the pain shifted, like the way you don’t notice you’re wearing your clothes after a while, you just get used to it. The pain became a part of me, and I welcomed it, I craved it. My body relaxed, and unclenched. When it was over, I missed it.
Slowly, I became steady enough to push myself to my knees. My whole body trembled with sensation and emotion. I swallowed hard and looked at Anita who was looking at me, fear in her expression. I reached out and grabbed her. I felt her fear flee her in a great exhalation and then she was the one crying. Our bodies, damp with sweat, fit like they’d been made for one another.
After several moments of crying onto one another’s shoulders, we took our blankets to the windowseat. I pulled my shirt off, it was damp with sweat anyway, and Anita pulled off her panties, which I noticed were damp too. Anita sat with her back against the side of the seat, and I snuggled between her legs and against her chest. My bottom tingled with the sting of recent spanking.We watched the storm as it continued to tear through the countryside with its tree-bending wind, dark-banishing lighting, and door-rattling thunder. The rain pounded on the roof like it might pound down the house.
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