Australian Penthouse

As my hand landed on Jackson’s arse with a resounding smack, I felt a tin­gling in my palm; I was enjoying the spanking as much as he was!I hadn’t expected to be so turned on by the act, and, in all honesty, I hadn’t expected to be spanking Jackson at all. We’d only been out to­gether a few times, and though he’d vaguely mentioned being into kinkier things than most guys, I didn’t really think we’d end up participating in any of those things, not for a while at least. But when we went back to his apartment after a date and I discovered a paddle sitting on his book­shelf, I grew curious and couldn’t stop myself from asking him about it.

Jackson’s eyes lit up when I held up the paddle and asked him what it was for. I was sure my questions sounded stupid, but he was so excited to tell me about his particular kink that he didn’t seem to mind my queries. He went on and on about how much he loved being spanked and having a girlfriend wield the paddle—or even a bare hand—and redden his arse. The more he talked about it, the more turned on I got, and soon I was imag­ining what it would be like to be the one who spanked him.

I’d never even thought about doing that before, and the sud­den urge took me by surprise, but I knew I had to act on it before I lost my nerve. When Jackson finally paused in his enthusiastic paddle explana­tion, I asked him, somewhat timidly, if he wanted me to spank him. He seemed as surprised by my question as I was, but he quickly recovered and told me he’d love it—if I were sure I wanted to play.

His concern for me was sweet, and I assured him of my absolute willing­ness to try out his version of foreplay. He was so excited that he swept me into his arms and kissed me pas­sionately, his tongue working its way between my lips to tangle with my own. As we kissed, his hands moved over my body and down to my arse, which he squeezed a few times be­fore lightly smacking it as we broke our kiss. The swat was unexpected, and I jumped a bit, but when I saw the lust in his eyes, I immediately felt myself begin to grow more aroused.

Taking my hand, Jackson led me to his bedroom and sat me on the straight-backed chair he kept in the corner. I looked around the room as I sat down, and though I’d been in his room before, I was seeing it as if for the first time, now that I knew about his special desires. The hairbrush on the dresser was no longer a neces­sary tool for maintaining his appear­ance, but a spanking instrument. The T square sticking out of his brief­case in another corner wasn’t simply a ruler, but a paddle. And although I was still a bit nervous about the whole thing, thinking about Jackson’s naughty side made me wet.

Jackson performed a sexy striptease while I sat, slowly pulling off his shirt and tie, kicking off his shoes and then wiggling out of his pants. When he was finally down to his briefs, he walked closer to me again and asked once more if I was sure.

“I want to do this,” I said, my voice husky with arousal. “I really want to spank you.” And I did.

Jackson lay down across my lap, his growing erection nestled between my legs, and his arse sticking up in the air, still covered by his underwear. I’d never consciously spanked anyone before, and though I’d occasionally smacked a lover’s arse during sex play, this was something very differ­ent. But Jackson turned his head and smiled at me, and that was all the en­couragement I needed to continue.

Raising the paddle in my right hand, I brought it up past my shoul­der and then watched as my arm swung it back down to gently hit his arse. The paddle didn’t hit hard, but to me, the muffled thwack was frighteningly loud—and unexpectedly erotic. I smiled as Jackson let out a low moan, and then I raised my arm again, ready for swat number two.

After only a half dozen gentle swats with the paddle, Jackson turned toward me and asked if I would like to try spanking him with my bare hand.

“It’ll feel so much better,” he said. “For both of us.”

I didn’t know if he was right, but I could tell he wanted me to try, and after my success with the paddle, I was more than willing. I dropped the paddle onto the floor and lifted my hand. Then I smacked him, and when my hand hit his cotton-covered butt, I felt myself get even wetter. There was no sharp sound to accompany that swat, since a bare hand on cot­ton briefs doesn’t make much noise, but the feeling of hitting him with my hand was so much more erotic than simply using a paddle to do it.

On the next swing, I tried to pay more attention to where I was hitting him and added a bit of force, instinc­tively knowing that he liked to be spanked hard. This time there was more of a noise, but it was still muf­fled, and even though I was already completely turned on by spanking Jackson, I wanted to hear the sound. Besides, during his brief spanking lecture, Jackson had mentioned how much he loves hearing the sound of the paddle or a hand connecting with his arse, and I wanted to give that to him, too.

I began inching down his briefs, waiting for him to protest, but when he didn’t, I pulled them clear of his butt and then raised my hand to spank him again. This time, when my palm connected, there was a resounding thwack that echoed in my mind. I felt my pussy gush at the sound, and when Jackson moaned loudly and wiggled on my lap, I knew he’d appreciated the move.

Having become totally comfort­able with my role in Jackson’s spanking scene, I was smacking his bottom – rhythmically, getting more and more turned on as each smack landed on his bare arse. I saw his butt turning red, too, and seeing my porcelain-white handprint framed by his flam­ing cheeks each time I smacked him was the most exciting thing ever.

After almost two dozen spanks, I felt Jackson’s dick start to twitch be­tween my thighs, and I knew he was getting close. And as much as I was enjoying spanking him, I still wanted some more traditional action, too. Luckily, Jackson could sense my needs, and he leapt from his posi­tion over my knees and pulled me up with him, hurriedly undressing me as he moved us both over to the bed. He pushed me down on my back and climbed on top of me, ready to take charge.

He kissed me hard and then ran his hand down my body to my pussy. He dipped a finger between my lips then, and when he felt how wet I was, he quickly aimed his dick at my drip­ping slit.

A moment later, he was push­ing inside me, and I almost came at the initial penetration because I was so turned on from spanking him. He started thrusting, and then he pounded into me enthusiastically, his dick flying in and out of my sex while I writhed under him. I’d never felt so aroused before, and all the an­ticipation that had built up while I was spanking Jackson was taking its toll.

I was on the verge of a climax be­fore the sex had really gotten started, and I felt a bit guilty that it would be over sooner rather than later. But the way Jackson was panting as he stroked in and out of me told me that he wasn’t too far from climaxing either, so I had nothing to worry about.

After thrusting into me for only a couple of minutes, I heard Jackson grunt and I opened my eyes to see his face screwed up. He was clearly on the edge of orgasm. I started humping up to meet his strokes, and it didn’t take much effort on my part before he was coming, grunting even louder as he started to shoot his semen.

I wasn’t too far behind, and a mo­ment after Jackson popped his load, I came, too. My pussy spasmed around his dick, squeezing him and draining him of every drop of his seed while my own juices flowed out of me and coated his shaft.

Before I even realized it, we were both totally spent, and Jackson and I were cuddling together, panting and gasping to catch our breath. I looked up and smiled lazily before kissing him and starting to drift off to sleep. But before I was too far under, Jackson whispered in my ear that I was a nat­ural at spanking, and he hoped he would get to share his passion with me again.

We haven’t really gotten into spanking again since that first time, but I’m sure we will soon. And who knows, maybe next time I’ll let him spank me!

Name and address withheld

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