S is for Spanking. Lucy Salisbury

that moment the man turned in our direction too suddenly to allow us to hide our rather obvious attention. I found myself blushing again, but Stacey merely smiled, far better able to handle the situation than I was. Fortunately we were saved by the landlord, who’d just asked Mr Blue a question, and the arrival of our food. Nevertheless, I was feeling a little uneasy as we settled down to eat, and all the more so when I was obliged to make a trip to the loo and found his eyes following me all the way and all the way back. Stacey was merely amused, and a little excited.

      ‘He’s not gay then, is he? His eyes were glued to your arse, not that I blame him, if you must wiggle like that, you little show off.’

      ‘I wasn’t wiggling! What if he makes a pass at me?’

      ‘Turn him down. Maybe he’ll try me instead.’

      ‘Stacey, you wouldn’t! You’re supposed to be with me, at least while we’re away together.’

      ‘That’s OK, you can watch. Or maybe I’ll spank you in front of him to get things going. I bet he’d love that, right after you’d turned him down.’

      ‘Stacey!’

      ‘I’m only joking, silly. He is nice, but like you say, we’re together. Besides, if he approached you first I’d hardly take him up on an offer later, would I? I do have some pride. Shall I get another bottle?’

      ‘Yes, why not?’

      The man continued to watch us as we drank our wine, sometimes from the corner of his eyes, sometimes openly. Stacey had grown bored with the game and ignored him, but it was harder for me because of where I was sitting; I found it impossible not to glance in his direction from time to time. He noticed and his interest increased, making me ever more flustered and less able to look away. I was sure he was going to come over to us at any moment, and wasn’t at all looking forward to the embarrassment of having to turn him down. Finally Stacey got fed up with my behaviour.

      ‘Look, Lucy, if you want to go three in a bed that’s fine, but either go and invite him over or stop flirting with him.’

      ‘I’m not flirting with him!’

      ‘Yes you are, and you know it. OK, I’ll go and talk to him then.’

      She’d already half risen and I quickly reached out to put my hand over hers and stop her, although I was no longer sure what I wanted. The wine we’d drunk had started to get to me, and he did have a very fine body, while Stacey’s threat to spank me in front of him had triggered one of my favourite fantasies, punishment in front of a man who then got to do as he pleased with my body, which would be more humiliating by far if I’d turned him down earlier. He’d seen it too, and now he knew that something was up, bringing my feelings of shame and uncertainty up further still. Stacey spoke as she sat down again.

      ‘You go then. Look, he’s looking right at you.’

      He was, leaning against the bar with his drink in one hand, watching us with open admiration. I imagined his amusement as I was turned over Stacey’s knee in front of him, and how he’d be thinking what a little pervert I was to get off on being spanked by my friend even as his cock started to grow to the sight of my rear view being exposed. Or maybe he’d want to do me too, and once I’d been reduced to a red-bottomed, tear-stained mess he’d certainly want me to take his cock in my mouth and complete my humiliation by sucking him off. I could do it too, if I just had a few minutes of easy, friendly conversation to let me know that whatever his reaction to my sexuality he genuinely thought of me as more than just a sexy body with a set of conveniently wet holes to stick his erection into.

      ‘OK, I’ll do it.’

      I got up, less than perfectly steady on my feet and feeling very insecure indeed. He saw and gave me a grin that was pure, arrogant self-assurance, to which I returned a nervous smile. I reached the bar and he said something I didn’t catch as the landlady spoke to me, asking if Stacey and I would like any dessert. The moment was broken, and once I’d politely refused and she’d moved away I found myself standing next to him at the bar, completely lost. He wasn’t, moving close and putting one strong hand on the small of my back as he spoke.

      ‘Hey, Blondie, how about I slip eight inches of rock-hard dick up your sweet little cunt?’

      As he spoke his hand had strayed down to the turn of my bottom. It was far too much, far too soon. Before I really knew what I was doing I’d swung around, to plant a slap full across his face, hard enough to knock him back and leave a livid handprint on his flesh. For one awful moment I thought he was going to hit me back, but he got himself under control just as the landlord returned to the bar, while three men at the nearest table had half risen from their seats. There was a brief, aggressive exchange of words, which I barely took in save that the other four males all seemed keen to take my side. Then Mr Blue had swallowed his drink at a gulp and walked out even as the landlord told him he was barred, which left me trying to assure four men and Stacey that everything was alright.

      It wasn’t. I felt guilty, both for the way I’d reacted, which wasn’t really fair, and for the way everybody else had turned on Mr Blue. Stacey and I had been flirting, and even if he’d overstepped the mark he hadn’t deserved his face slapped and the very public humiliation of being thrown out of the pub. I wanted to apologise, and I felt drunk and off balance too, so pretended I was in need of a trip to the Ladies and then slipped outside. It was dark, with a single yellow light illuminating a double line of cars and trees showing black against a starry sky beyond. There was no sign of Mr Blue, save possibly a pair of red tail lights moving away down the lane, but the fresh air was very welcome indeed.

      I walked to the end of the car park, where an ancient and wheel-less Volkswagen camper van had been left to rust beside the hedge. It gave me the shelter I felt I needed and I propped myself against it, drinking in the cool, clean air in an effort to clear my head, only to jump at the sound of approaching footsteps.

      ‘You OK, love?’

      ‘Yes, really …’

      It was Redbeard the Pirate, who’d been among the men keen to take my side. We spoke for a moment, and there was no mistaking his desire for me. I half wanted to give in, but couldn’t overcome my own ill feelings for what had just happened until he put an arm around my shoulder, an arm like a tree trunk. I stiffened automatically, but only for an instant before I’d allowed myself to be gathered in against his chest. He began to talk, in a rumbling bass, attempting to comfort me with clumsy words that I barely heard. Yet I couldn’t help but react to his touch, my body trembling badly, and it was just too easy to accept the comfort of his arms.

      I could feel a hard bulge swelling against my belly even as he assured me there was nothing to worry about. Had he simply taken me then and there I wouldn’t have resisted. My defences were down and I was drunk and horny, as well as feeling guilty for being a tease, and he was so very obviously turned on. Yet I knew that it would have to be me who made the first open move. I didn’t say a word as I slid his zip open, nor as I went down on my knees to pull out his cock, straight into my mouth. He reacted with a low moan, but accepted his tribute, letting me suck as he leant back against the side of the camper van. The feel of his cock in my mouth was more comforting than anything, at first, but as he began to stiffen up I was getting increasingly eager. My hand went up my dress and down the front of my panties as I began to masturbate him into my mouth.

      His hand settled on the back of my head, to take me gently but firmly by the hair, holding me in place. I had no intention of stopping, but it felt nice, a big, strong male hand to make sure I gave my blow job properly. He’d already begun to groan, and I began to rub harder, my fingers bumping over my clitoris as I sucked and licked and kissed at his straining erection, trying to be a good girl for him but determined to keep him back from the edge until I too was ready to come. Only when I felt my cunt begin to tighten did I take him deep in once more, as far as I could, deliberately squashing his helmet into my throat to make myself gag, a gloriously dirty thing to do and one with inevitable consequences. I felt his grip tighten in my hair and he gave an urgent grunt, jamming his cock yet deeper into my throat as he came. Spunk erupted into my gullet and