Waking up, I gasped as I sat up in the bed. My tank top and pyjamas shorts were drenched in sweat, and my heart was trying to beat its way through my chest, but the details of my nightmare were already getting foggy, leaving me with nothing but a strong sense of unease.
My frightened mind was now further unsettled by the unfamiliar surroundings, and in my tired state, it took a few moments before I remembered that I had gone out of town to visit my friends Jessica and Mark. This wasn't my own bedroom, with its posters and knick-knacks; it was their clean, almost-empty guest bedroom.
I wondered if I had screamed during my nightmare, and whether I'd woken them up. I tiptoed into the hall, placing my ear against the door of their bedroom, where I could hear them both snoring peacefully. I glanced at the watch – it was half past seven in the morning, so they'd probably sleep for another hour or two.
Too stressed to go back to sleep, I decided to head downstairs to the living room and watch TV until they woke up. I zapped from channel to channel, trying to find something worth watching, but in vain. I considered fetching my laptop and surfing the web for a while, but my head was still too tired.
I was unsettled from the nightmare, I was tired, I was stressed, and I suddenly felt a little bit homesick. What I needed most was some sort of relief. I pondered going back up to the bedroom and masturbating, but I was sitting on a very comfortable couch. Ah, life's hard dilemmas.
After a few seconds, a naughty thought entered my head. Why should I go upstairs? Couldn't I just rub my nub right here, in my friends' living room?
The more I thought about it, the more appealing it seemed. There was something so transgressive, so DIRTY about masturbating in a living room that wasn't my own. My friends were sleeping, but they could wake up and come downstairs any minute, couldn't they? They could catch me on their couch, with my fingers inside myself, being a naughty girl. How humiliating that thought was! Now, of course, they were fast asleep, and wouldn't wake up for at least an hour. Or would they? They didn't usually wake up early, but it wasn't out of the question. It felt so risky and embarrassing.
Making my mind up, I reached for the roll of paper towels that Jessica kept near their couch in case she spilled wine – I had no intention of leaving any strange stains on their furniture. Placing a thick layer of paper below myself to catch any escaping moistness, I lowered my shorts, pulled my panties to the side, and began to rub myself.
Even in my sleep-addled state, my experienced fingers knew just what to do, and in a few minutes, I reached the edge. I grinned to myself as I again thought about how dirty I was being – pleasuring myself in someone else's house, while they were sleeping nearby.
It was only then, almost at the point of orgasm, that my drowsy mind remembered that I hadn't checked whether the curtains were drawn.
I spun my head around to face the large living room windows, leading out to the patio. My fears were confirmed when I saw one of Jessica's neighbours sitting on his back porch. The man looked to be about thirty, making him roughly five years older than myself, and the cup of coffee in his hand seemed entirely forgotten as he stared in my direction. One would hope that he would be gentleman enough to avert his eyes, but I guess chivalry is dead after all.
As I sat there on my friends' couch, with my fingers inside myself, being watched by a man I'd never seen before, my mind kept debating one massive question: abort or finish?
I could get up and close the curtains, but that would take me too far out of the zone, and I wasn't sure I had the energy to reach this point again. And I felt so stressed and tired, I couldn't deal with the thought of being denied my release. Besides, he'd already seen me. The damage was already done. Without breaking eye-contact with the stranger, I continued to rub, muttering to myself, " I've started, so I'll finish". After a few seconds, the dam was broken. Moaning as quietly as I could so as to not wake anyone – I didn't want MORE witnesses right now – I came. After taking a minute to regain my strength, I rose and began to clean up, making sure to close the curtains. And the most humiliating chapter of my life came to a close – or at least so I thought at the time.
An hour later, Mark and Jessica came downstairs. They asked if I'd eaten breakfast yet, and when I told them I hadn't, Jessica started to heat up some bread rolls and cooking some eggs and bacon, while Mark set the table and opened the living room curtains to let some light in. I could no longer see the man on the back porch, which was a relief.
Just as I started on my second bread roll, the doorbell rang. Jessica went to open it, and returned a few seconds later with the man I'd seen next door. "Julie, this is our neighbour David – we visit each other quite often. David, this is Julie, a friend of ours from London." My heart started beating faster, and I tried my best to keep a neutral expression on my face. This wasn't meant to happen! I wasn't supposed to meet this guy face to face, and have him learn my name!
"Ah yes, I think I saw a little bit of her through the living room window earlier," he said, extending his hand to me with a friendly look on his face. While he hadn't been decent enough to turn his eyes away earlier, he was at least gentleman enough not to elaborate on WHICH little bit of me he'd seen. As I shook his hand, all I could think about was where those fingers had been the last time he'd seen me. Judging from the look he gave me, I guessed that was what he was thinking about as well.
Now that I saw him up close, he was a muscular man of medium height with long, brown hair and dark eyes. He was wearing a short-sleeved shirt and dark blue shorts. He had an attractive face, and there was something roguish about his smile that made me wish I'd met the man under less humiliating circumstances.
Jessica offered him a place at the table, and as he sat down, the talk flowed freely, though I took little part in it. What do you say to a man who's just watched you diddling yourself?
Jessica noticed that I was more quiet than usual and didn't eat much, and asked me if I felt unwell. "Not really," I told her. "I woke up early and couldn't fall back asleep, so I'm a bit tired." David raised an eyebrow at that, but mercifully, he said nothing.
Jessica soon left us to put her makeup on, and when Mark when down to the basement to start a load of laundry, I was left alone with David. Not wanting to talk to him, I stared at the wall as I nibbled on my bread roll.
"So," he said, "do you often masturbate in other people's living rooms?" It was probably the most pathetic opening line I'd ever heard, but at the moment, I really didn't feel I deserved any better.
"I had a nightmare," I told him as I finally met his eyes. "I needed to relax."
"Ah," he said, nodding sagely to himself. "Understandable. Whenever I sleep badly, I always start wanking in front of the windows too."
I glared at him. His attempts at humour were not appreciated. "I didn't realize that the curtains were open," I snapped.
He raised an eyebrow. "But surely you knew that you were sitting in the middle of the living room? Or were you too tired to realize that you weren't in the privacy of a bedroom or bathroom?" I fidgeted in my seat, and he grinned at my reaction. "Was there a part of you that wanted to get caught?" I blushed – his guesses were a little too close for comfort. His grin widened. "I think you are a very naughty girl, Julie. Maybe you deserve a good spanking."
I suddenly felt a little light-headed, and my throat was dry. Wiping my sweaty palms on my shorts, I debated whether I was upset or not about the direction this conversation was taking. I had never thought about being spanked before, but at the moment, the idea of being over this handsome man's lap wasn't entirely unpleasant. "Maybe I do," I admitted, once again staring at the wall. I couldn't look at him right now.
David, however, seemed amused at my discomfort. Leaning forward, he placed his hand under my chin, gently turning my face to look at him. I could have tried to resist, but for some reason, I didn't. "I'm going to go home soon. If you want a little trip over my lap, find some excuse for leaving the house and come see me. I'll even close the curtains." He smiled. "Unless you wish me to leave them open?"
I looked down at the floor, and he let go of my face. "I'll think about it," I whispered, blushing. "Coming to see you, I mean."
He grinned, patting my hand gently. "You do that."
Jessica returned, and the two chatted for a few minutes before David headed home.
About half an hour after breakfast, I told Jessica and Mark that I still felt a bit groggy, so I'd go for a walk and clear my head. Mark offered to go with me, but I told him I wanted to be alone for a little bit. I walked down the road, in case they were looking out the window after me, but as soon as I turned a corner, I backtracked until I reached David's house. With butterflies in my stomach, I rang the doorbell, and he opened the door with a smug grin. "Come on in."
He followed me as I stepped inside, and I could practically feel his eyes on the seat of my shorts as I walked. I'd changed out of my pyjamas shorts and night-time tank top into a low-cut t-shirt and another, tighter pair of shorts, and he seemed quite appreciative of my efforts.
"This is the living room," he said. It was a large, sparsely decorated room that indicated a taste of decor that I hadn't expected from a man like David. Like he'd promised, the curtains were closed. "I wondered whether we should take this to the bedroom, but the living room seems to be more your style, doesn't it?"
I folded my arms around myself and tried to glare at him, though I was far too nervous to do it well. "You're teasing me," I said accusingly.
He raised an eyebrow. "Would you like me to stop?"
I hesitated. There was something about the way he spoke to me and looked at me that gave me a delightful tingle between my legs. "Well... it's... I don't -"
He placed a finger on my lips to stop my babbling, chuckling at my reaction. "You really ARE a naughty, dirty girl, aren't you? Don't say anything – just nod or shake your head." Without hesitation, I nodded. He grinned, placing a soft, gentle kiss on my forehead. Not for the first time, I wished I was taller, so men would stop missing when trying to kiss me. "Well, it's nothing a good spanking can't fix."
I didn't resist as he led me over to the couch. He sat down and gently guided me over his lap. My legs and torso were both resting on the couch, while my shorts-clad bottom was raised over his lap, presented for his attention. I wriggled around on his lap, feeling his bulge pressing into me.
The reality of the situation made me shiver. I was over a man's lap, and he was about to spank me. There was something terribly humiliating and exciting about it. "You're not going to spank me too hard, are you?" I said, biting my lip.
He gently patted my backside. "If it gets too much for you," he said, starting to rub my buns, "just say 'stop'."
"And you'll stop?" I said incredulously. "Just like that?"
He frowned. "Why not? This isn't some court-ordained punishment you have to suffer through – it's a bit of erotic fun that should hopefully be quite pleasurable to us both." He looked at me and must have noticed my nervousness, for his voice suddenly became quite comforting. "If you don't want to do this, you don't have to. We can sit here and chat, or you can head back to Mark and Jessica. Your choice."
I took a deep breath. I was in his house and over his lap. If I stopped now, I'd always wonder what could have been. "Go ahead," I told him. "Spank me."
He tutted. "You didn't say 'please'," he chided. "But I'll let it go this time." And he lifted his hand and began to spank me.
As the first smacks landed, I squirmed slightly, but more from surprise than from pain. He moved his hand from cheek to cheek, delivering gentle smacks that gave me a nice, warm glow. "How is this?" he asked, pausing with his hand resting on my bottom.
"It's nice," I told him. "I thought it would be more painful."
"It will be," he assured me, as he continued to spank. "I'm going to gradually spank you harder and faster – unless you tell me to stop, of course. But you seem new to this, so it thought it best to start gently."
True to his word, the slaps soon landed harder and faster, and I was fidgeting over his lap as my bottom grew warmer. I still had no intention of telling him to stop, however. "Tell me what a bad girl I am," I whispered.
He chuckled. "You are a VERY naughty girl, Julie. Only dirty girls, with dirty minds, would even THINK of masturbating in someone else's living room." His hand moved to the lower parts of my bottom, delivering a hard series of spanks that made me squeal and kick my legs. I would definitely feel that the next time I sat down! "And not making sure to close the curtains? Doing it in front of the windows, so anyone can watch? You are a filthy girl, Julie, and you deserve a good, hard spanking." He continued to spank from cheek to cheek, smiling as he watched me wriggle.
At this point, he placed his hand in the waistband of my shorts and began to lower them. I held my breath, but didn't protest as he drew the garment down to my knees, revealing my black satin panties to his gaze.
"How nice," he muttered appreciatively as he rubbed the seat of my underwear. I sighed contentedly, enjoying the comforting touch. "But these aren't the pair you wore earlier. Did you put these on for my sake?"
I blushed. "Maybe."
"How thoughtful of you," he said, and I barely prevented a moan from escaping my lips as his hand dipped slightly lower between my legs. To my great disappointment, he soon moved it back up to my bottom, however. "But it does make me wonder if your bra matches." He grabbed the hem of my t-shirt, jerking it up. As he pulled it over my head, he grinned. "It does!" he said as he saw my black satin bra.
"You know, I didn't agree to you seeing my bra," I scolded as sternly as I could – which wasn't much, seeing as I was half-naked over the man's lap, my pink bottom presented to his attention.
"I'm sorry," he said, while managing to not sound sorry at all. "Would you like me to help you remove it?"
Once again, the naughtier side of my personality took over. "Yes," I replied calmly. "Yes, I would."
From the way his thighs tensed under me, I could tell that I had surprised him with my audacity, but he quickly took charge, moving his hands to unclasp my bra. He pulled it away and placed it with my shirt on the nearby table. Making a snap decision, he pulled my shorts off to join them.
I was now dressed in nothing but my skimpy panties. Resting on my elbows, my upper body raised, I turned my head to glance flirtatiously at him, giving him a glimpse of my naked breasts.
"You are beautiful," he muttered, and from the way his bulge grew below me, I could tell he meant it. I impishly began to twist my hips, rubbing against his erection, and as he looked down at my pink backside, he suddenly remembered what he was supposed to be doing.
Lifting his hand, he spanked my wriggling bottom. His left hand rested on my back, while his right hand made sure to cover the entire surface of my reddening rear. I let out the occasional yelp when he slapped particularly firmly, or on a spot that was already quite sore.
"These panties are absolutely soaked," he commented. I blushed; there was a certain amount of truth to his words. He placed his fingers in the waistband, beginning to lower them, but I immediately reached my hand back and held them in place – I wasn't entirely sure I wanted to give up my last line of defence without a fight.
He was a strong man, and I had no doubt he could have bared me forcefully if he wanted, but he didn't. Instead, he raised an eyebrow. "You know, you have nothing I haven't seen already," he pointed out.
Realizing the truth of his words, I fidgeted and buried my head in the cushions in shame. After a few seconds, I released my grip and moved my hand in front of me. Slowly, as if uncovering some great treasure, he peeled my panties down and off, placing it with the rest of my clothes on the table. I was now entirely naked and at his mercy.
He rubbed my bare bottom for a few minutes, causing me to moan, before suddenly lifting his hand and delivering a crisp smack that made me gasp. He continued to spank me, and I twisted and squirmed on his lap, crying out with every stinging slap.
"Are you learning your lesson, you dirty, naughty girl?" he scolded.
"Ouch! That stings, David!"
"Would you like me to stop?" he said, his voice expressing concern, though he didn't stop spanking me – or even slow down.
I hesitated. "That's not – I'm... I don't know!" I stuttered, squealing in pain.
He chuckled, clearly amused at my suffering. "Then we'll continue a few minutes more."
His hand continued to rise and fall, delivering a burning sting to the entire surface area of my poor bottom. This was the most terrible and wonderful thing that had ever happened to me.
Tears running down my face, I eventually felt him stop. He helped me up, and I was soon sitting on his lap, curled up in his arms as he ran his fingers through my hair and whispered how I was a brave girl, and that I had taken a hard spanking very well. There was something deliciously humiliating about sitting naked on a fully clothed man's lap, but I also felt warm and safe in his arms. It was lovely feeling, and in my tired state, I almost fell asleep.
I had another need that was more urgent than sleep, however. Once I had stopped crying, and my bottom has stopped throbbing, there was another throbbing that only grew stronger, as if the fire between my legs was being fed by the fire in my backside. Still naked, I kneeled over him on the couch, one leg on each side of him, the bulge of his trousers rubbing against my sex. I gazed into his eyes, licking my lips. "So ... what do you want to do now?" I asked as innocently as I could – which wasn't easy, in the circumstances.
Fortunately, he knew exactly what I wanted – especially as it was the same thing that HE wanted. He lifted me up and placed me down on the couch, starting to take off his clothes.
"So, you're finally back from your walk," Jessica said when I returned. "And you brought David with you."
"Um. Yes," I said as we entered, trying to seem calm. David headed into the living room to chat to Mark, but I waited with Jessica, telling her the story I'd come up with. "I met up with him while out walking, and he decided to come with me."
"Even though you told Mark you wanted to be alone?" She raised an eyebrow. "And the two of you must have been moving very fast. You both seem exhausted. You must have done a lot of ... walking." From the look on her face, she definitely realized that we'd just slept together – which wasn't much of a problem to me. I just hoped she never found out what ELSE we'd been up to.
I tried to stop myself from blushing, but I don't think I succeeded. "We can still have a movie night, right? All four of us?"
"Yes, David is always welcome here," she assured me, with a knowing look on her face. "He's a very good friend. I'm glad that he decided to... come with you."
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