She sat on the barstool pretending not to be interested in him. A single fact that encouraged him to believe she was not one of those enterprising young women who were offering their professional services. Not that he had anything against such girlsper se, but paying for it was against his personal code and in any case it felt too much like a wank.
The trouble was, although he was not bad looking for a 40-something businessman, he was hardly the kind of guy to usually turn the head of a 20-something goddess. Unless of course it was his £500 suit, which brought him back to his first thought.
The girl was blonde and although he usually went for brunettes, he had to say that the colour suited her. But it wasn’t her hair that had first grabbed his attention, it was her hips. A perfect sphere defined by a vanishing waist, perched on the barstool as if they might roll off at any moment. Then even as he watched her she had leaned forward to show off her gut twisting bottom and that was before he realised that she had some interest in him.
John glanced in the bar mirror and tried to gauge what she saw in him, meal ticket or suave older man. His hair was too grey, although as his barber said often enough, at least he had a lot of it. But he had to say that he was in good shape for a man of any age, let alone for one pushing 50. A fact complemented by the suit. Maybe his nose was too big, but then again… he turned his head slightly as casually as he could, it would pass. If he could change anything, apart from his age that is, it would be his height. At an inch above the average it was neither one thing nor the other. Oh what the hell, this business trip has been boring enough, just go with it and see, he decided.
He crossed the room to the other end of the bar as if he had just bought the place and grabbed the barman’s attention.
“Do you have anything older in the Oban line?” He asked, carefully studying the 12-year-old scotch.
“No Sir, but I can do you an 18-year-old Talisker,” the man replied. “Expensive.”
John fancied that the man’s eyes flicked to his right at the girl. Oh well, so what if he knew what his game was.
“Good enough,” John said casually and then glancing left, he added to the girl, “Been a long day, I need a decent drink.”
She had blue eyes a man could swim in. She was definitely out of his league.
“I know what you mean,” she purred.
John nodded, ready to retreat. Then smoothly he added, “Oh, can I get you something?”
“Can I try what you’re having?” She ventured with just a hint of nervousness. An act, he was sure, but he liked the demure type.
“Sure,” John agreed, nodding at the barman.
“Can I have ice in mine?” She made it sound like she thought he might say no.
The man winked and went away to fix it.
“I noticed you come in,” she said as she took her first sip. If she was going to add something it was lost in a bout of coughing. “Damn, there goes my cool. This is horrible.”
“An acquired taste,” he said with a shrug. “So you noticed me?”
She blushed and nodded.
“Well I noticed you, which is perhaps more understandable in the circumstances.”
Circumstances? What circumstances he berated himself, what are you talking about you idiot.
“My dad liked whiskey. It makes me think of him,” she said to change the subject.
“So I remind you of your Dad?” He knew the type, but it could still go either way.
It might be that she was just lonely and scared in a strange city. The hotel was full of such people.
“Not exactly,” she giggled.
“Thank goodness for that,” he laughed, “I’m not that old.”
“No you’re not, which is a shame in a way,” she lisped.
He cocked an eyebrow until she broke into laughter.
“Kidding,” she said punching him lightly on the arm. “What you think? I was the kind of girl with daddy issues?”
“Maybe,” he said with the hint of a laugh.
“Disappointed?” She asked, taking his arm.
“I’m easy,” he said.
He was feeling a little uncomfortable now. This was going too fast.
“And so am I,” she said with a grimace, “That’s what you’re thinking isn’t it.”
He shrugged. “You know, a boy alone in a strange city has to be careful,” he added in mock feminine voice.
She broke into rolling laughter.
“I’m sorry, I can be such a naughty girl sometimes,” she finally managed to say.
“How naughty?” He sipped at his Talisker and waited.
She licked her lips and studied him for a minute. The barman was nearby pretending not to listen. She glanced at him and he moved away.
“Sometimes I can be very naughty, but only if I have a daddy to keep me line,” she whispered.
“John,” he said, extending his hand. It was very English, but in her own way, so was she.
“Jo Carmichael,” she replied shaking his hand. She understood.
“Shall we have another drink Ms Carmichael?” He asked.
“In your room maybe; you do have a room here?” She took his arm.
“Complete with minibar,” he said with a gesture towards the lifts.
“You won’t let me drink too much will you?” She said with a giggle.
“Oh what happens if I do?” He asked conversationally as he led her away.
“You have to smack my bottom of course,” she lisped.
His world surged and he even became a little lightheaded. This was too good to be true, he thought, taking in her magnificent behind. His last rational consideration was ‘honey trap.’
Once in the room they were quick to embrace.
“I don’t exactly do this that often,” he said kissing her firmly.
“No I… No, there is no one at the moment,” he said, trying not to sound flustered.
“Now that does surprise me. How did you get away,” she purred kissing him back.
It was rare these days that mere proximity to a fully clothed woman got a rise out of him, but up close she was even more beautiful.
Embracing her again he reached for the zip on her dress; a red clingy number that flattered her figure. Not yet ready to presume he paused, toying with the tab for a moment.
Jo responded by inclining her head and kissing him, so he drew the zip down allowing her to step out of her dress. He twitched.
“Can I have that drink I mustn’t have?” She giggled.
“Aren’t you afraid I might spank you?” He said in a low voice.
“I’m only afraid that you won’t.” She didn’t meet his eyes, but pursed her lips and looked coyly about her.
“You are a naughty girl aren’t you? Perhaps I’ll give you a spanking you won’t like for playing me.”
Her eyes widened a touch and something like fear alighted there. Or was it excitement, he wondered?
“If you can make me cry I’ll do anything you want. If you can make me beg I’ll do anything…” she was panting now, “at all.”
John narrowed his eyes and considered all the angles. Maybe this was just too good to be true.
“Are you alone at the hotel?”
“I’m with another girl,” she said impatiently, clinging in to him. “You won’t tell her will you?”
“That depends how good you are,” he whispered, giving her a smack on the behind.
It was hard and sharp and she squeaked, but then closed her eyes and sighed a little. Okay, he thought, she is for real.
Sitting down he drew her unresisting over his lap and fondled her behind. She squirmed a little and clung on to his thighs. Reaching for the elastic of her waistband his throat tightened he felt ever so slightly dizzy; a feeling that had been all too rare in his life since his twenties. Then, all so slowly, he drew her semi-transparent lacy nothings down like a veil over the smoothest round bottom he had ever handled.
“I’ve done this before,” he said once her bare bottom was a tightly split sphere in his lap and smooth beyond dreams.
“I bet,” she said, squirming.
He watched her sparsely-haired sex peep in and out of view between her thighs.
“I mean, I don’t know you so banter aside, how hard do you want to play?” Under the circumstances he had to ask. “With a girl I know well, I don’t often play at it at all, if you follow?”
“I meant what I said. I’m a bad girl,” she said, suddenly serious. “Make me cry Daddy. If you can.”
He spanked her crisply with a relaxed palm. Her bottom was firm and resistant against his hand. The red mark supported the sensation that he had spanked her hard and he enjoyed the tiny bubbles of flesh that quickly formed where he had struck her. The girl, however, had not reacted.
He slapped her again, harder this time; almost as hard as he was able. This time she took a sharp breath through her nose and her bottom yielded a little. He twitched violently, suddenly constrained by his trousers.
“Perhaps I should get undressed first,” he said.
“I love the suit, it makes you boss,” she groaned, but added quickly, “But you’re in charge.”
This time even she felt him hard beneath her.
After several slow spanks that turned her bottom from pale to dark pink all over, he picked up the pace, even managing to spank her harder so that she wriggled and danced in his lap. He got to see her sex more often now and could not remember the last time he had seen a woman so obviously aroused. The other thing that struck him, was how incredible hot her bottom was, it sizzled to his touch. He had forgotten this part. It had been so long since he had spanked a girl this hard with just his hand.
The trouble was, his arm was getting tired and his palm stung as much as her bottom must be.
“Not wimping out on me are you?” She was panting and there was a faraway groan to her voice.
God, she can take it anyway, he thought.
“Is that anyway to talk to Daddy?” He growled.
“No Sir,” she lisped, but he sensed she was lost within herself somewhere.
He stopped then and removed his jacket while she squirmed on his lap. His right armpit was damp. It felt strange to feel so localised an exertion. That’s when he remembered the tennis shoe in his bag by the bed. He always brought it in case he had time for the hotel gym. It was new and unused.
After retrieving it without tipping the girl onto the floor he patted it against her bare bottom.
“Oh Sir,” she said in a mock whine, “Don’t, please, I’m sorry.”
He knew she didn’t mean it, but in any case asked her, “You want to go?”
“Oh God no, you bastard, don’t tease.” Her distress was genuine this time.
He flicked the flat side of the soft shoe down hard across her bottom and she gasped aloud for the first time. The change in colour was dramatic and welcome in his eyes. Only the sound disturbed him. The hard thwack must have been heard far beyond the room. It didn’t stop him.
“What did you call me?” He said with synthetic anger.
“Nothing Sir, oh, I’m sorry,” she lisped.
He spanked hard and then harder several times in a row. His arm now reinvigorated. He knew the rapid assault was somewhat amateurish, but it was too satisfying an impulse not follow.
She jerked and grunted in response, wagging her bottom like a happy dog and thrusting it upwards to meet the swats. Her bottom held a tomato sheen now and he noticed that the shock-pimples were tighter and more pronounced.
“You had better be,” he snapped as he spanked her again and again.
Then to his surprise she spluttered to a sob and began to cry.
“I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry,” she wept; grinding her hips into him as she came.
He stopped and again enjoyed the heat of her bottom on his hand.
“You don’t have to stop,” she sobbed. “I mean, you can do whatever you want.”
He pulled her up by her hair and wondered what he had done with his condoms. She didn’t wait but reached for his groin and in an impossibly short time was sucking on his erection like he didn’t know what.
Given the state of his arousal, he expected to come quickly, but she seemed to know when to hold back and showed no signs of being eager to finish it. Looking down he saw the way that the two vivid red domes of her bottom protruded back as she worked on him.
“I have to spank you again,” he said. It was true, he was obsessed now.
Without the least demure, she crawled back into his lap and thrust her bottom back up at him.
If anything, this time the spanking was longer and harder. It certainly was if her tears and sobbing was anything to go by. So distressed did she seem at times, that he felt obliged to go easy or stop altogether. Then she would look around and plead with her eyes.
It took three bouts of extended spanking and her getting on her knees to pay him homage before he came. He could not believe how eagerly she milked every last drop to swallow as he exploded into her mouth.
When they had both got their breath back she said, “How do you want me next?”
The next morning John awoke to find her gone. Oh well, he thought, I am not sure I could have stood the pace anyway.
He wasn’t one for room service. It cost more than it was worth to him. So he showered quickly and headed down to breakfast in the hotel restaurant. Just as he got there he saw her coming out of the lift. She was with another woman, not quite as beautiful as her, but more than just attractive. Jo hadn’t seen him and he wondered if he should hang back or skip breakfast. Then he saw the other woman take her hand and lean forward for a quick passionate kiss.
At that moment John and the girl’s eyes met and she blushed. John gaped at her for a moment and she blanched. Then with a shrug she walked right past him.
“Where did you get to last night?” Jo’s lover asked as they drew level.
Jo pulled a wincey face sideways at John without her friend seeing and said, “Oh I… eh had to catch up with Daddy.”
“You came back late. You woke me,” the woman said in irritation.
“I’m sorry,” Jo pouted, adding in a whisper that none but her lover and John could hear. “Perhaps you should spank me later.”
John grinned and hung back to let them get ahead. They didn’t get too far before Jo paused and glanced back. Again without being seen she blew John a kiss and grabbed her behind mouthing a silent ‘ouch’ and offering him a wink.
John ducked out to get breakfast elsewhere and that was last he ever saw of her. He often wondered what Jo’s friend made of the undoubted bruises on her lover’s bottom when she went to spank her. He was willing to bet that she suffered, although in all probability enjoyed every moment of it.