by Cyan
Copyright 2003 by Cyan
All Rights Reserved; No Redistribution.
The day had gone well, but once again I was having second thoughts about what I'd told Ken the night before. If I'd had half a brain, I'd have realized that as we met each of the people involved that I'd be aware of what Ken was thinking and it would be tying me up with knots. I was glad the day was over and we were back at the hotel relaxing in the bar. Most of us were at the designated hotel so I hadn't been surprised to see Beth come in. When she saw us, she immediately came over to sit down.
A drink does indeed make you relax. And of course that's part of the explanation for the little history that I'd related to Ken. I guess somehow we'd been talking about whether my college years deserved the term "wild" and that night had come up.
Yes, we'd been drinking that night, in my dorm room, me and three of my hall-mates. I remember it was a Friday or Saturday and we were among those without dates. We could have gone out together but sometimes you don't. You either feel sorry for yourself or you entertain each other.
It must have been midnight already and we'd watched a couple of TV shows and were sitting, talking when somehow we decided to prove we weren't, well, wet blankets or something like that. And a debate about what we could do arose and when it was done, we were sitting down to play--strip poker.
I swear it's true: right in my room, my roommate was out, we started dealing out cards, probably all of us nervous as hell about it and commenced. It was so cliche. Why four straight girls would do such a thing I don't know but it seemed a bit of wildness we could indulge in.
I remember that I did OK. After a bit, while I still was pretty much covered as much as I am at the beach, one girl, Sheila finally reached the pristine state and we made her stand and turn around once for us which since she was feeling good, did with a flourish. But then she wanted to keep playing so we had a problem to solve: what does one do when they are already nude and lose the hand?
Flashing at the window was mentioned: a quick parting and closing the curtain. Penalties involving some time in the hall were discussed. For a while it seemed we were enjoying thinking up devious challenges even more than the game. Eventually a spanking was mentioned. I remember Sheila looked nervous but we put it to her as a dare. Then we began to muse about who should do the spanking, with the hand's winner as the obvious choice, or perhaps the one who still had the most clothes on.
That was when Beth, my roommate returned. Beth was one of those girls who always had dates or so it seemed. She had a boyfriend of sorts but was apparently perfectly willing to accept other invitations if she found the guy attractive. So it wasn't unexpected that she was out that night.
I remember when she walked in, that a part of me felt totally lame: Beth finding us doing something stupid like we were doing. But Beth is pretty good at not spoiling a party so we soon found ourselves explaining it all. "I have a solution," she said. "I'll give the spanking."
And so it was. Somehow, starting at that hand, our smiles were nervous and not nearly so uninhibited. A couple hands later, Sheila received her first. We watched in silence as Beth gave it to her. Beth had to remind us that it wasn't a funeral and I guess we managed to lighten up a bit.
I tell you from that time on, all I could think about was the embarrassment I'd feel if I reached that point. I was braless pretty soon. Sheila and another girl, Marie got another from Beth. Beth simply sat, still dressed from her date, watching the progress.
Finally, after Sheila's third spanking, somehow we didn't pick up the cards again. Sheila said she had to get some sleep and I realized that we'd all been trying not to be the one to call it off before we'd risked what we'd made Sheila face. I'd come out unscathed and even still wearing one article of clothing. The girls had dressed and drifted out and soon Beth and I were in bed.
"So you missed out," she said. "On your spanking."
I was a bit surprised she was bringing it up. "I guess so," I said.
"Sorry?" I wondered why she would say such a thing. No, I said mentally but somehow the word never came out of my mouth. I remembered Beth spanking Sheila and Marie. It was weird but Beth had always been my roommate and somehow I knew that had made me feel superior. She and I did things together. As I thought, I heard Beth rustling in bed. "Come here," she said.
I looked over and in the dim light I saw she was sitting on the side of her bed. Her white nightgown was almost ghostly. "Come," she repeated. "It's your turn."
We never talked about it after that night, for which I was ever so grateful. Recalling slipping off my nightgown and placing myself over her lap filled me with embarrassment yet I knew I was so glad it had happened. The only difference in our life after that, other than the memories, was that I did find myself exchanging glances with Beth, far more comfortable glances than with any other girl. I even recall when we finally graduated and she left with, her things stuffed in her parents' car. She hugged me, which was to be expected, but what I also remember was after that, right before she left, a final remembering glance between us.
I'd seen her once or twice since that day at other reunions and school things but this was the first time Ken had met her. And I'd gone and told him the whole story just the night before! "Yes, Julie and I had some wild times together," she said, and I caught the tiny glance my way just after she said it.
"So I heard," said Ken. I wanted to kick him under the table but decided his answer was natural even for someone without such inside knowledge.
But Beth didn't seem willing to credit it to that. She looked at him speculatively, then glanced at me, then said "And what exactly did you hear?"
"Unbelievable things."
Beth gave me a look. An accusing look if I ever saw one and once more, I was sure she could read the guilt in my face and no more had to be said. "How interesting," she said, her eyes not leaving mine. "And what did you make of them?"
"The world is full of surprises," said Ken. I definitely wanted to kick him though I knew I was just as much to blame, both for telling him and for losing my cool under Beth's stare.
"So it is," said Beth, now looking at Ken, "and have you continued what I started?"
I almost choked. Ken looked shocked, then suddenly burst out laughing. "Now that would be personal," he said but even I could see that she'd be reading a no in his face.
"It wouldn't be the first time that personal things were revealed," she said, glancing my way. Then she just sat there. Beth has a way exuding confidence even as she is silent, remaining unperturbed even under the most embarrassing circumstances. As she sat there I saw her smile grow. Finally she said: "Well, I'm off to bed now."
She stood and left. But before walking away, she said, cool as could be: "By the way, my room is 4C."
We stared at her. She certainly was as good looking as she had been in college, if not better. I'd gathered she'd been quite successful since those days. And apparently unattached.
Ken and I were uneasy the rest of the evening. I heard him laugh nervously. Believe me, we were never involved in the sort of thing Beth was hinting at. I knew it had to appeal to Ken on some level. Beth was the sort of woman whom you didn't want to bring your dates to meet because you'd know they'd be wishing they were dating her. Ken hugged me when we got in bed but somehow nothing more came of it. Soon I heard his snore.
I lay in bed that night, thinking. Outrageous Beth suggesting that Ken spanked me. Never saying it outright but the implication had been there. I supposed it was her way of punishing me: the more I'd actually revealed, the more I'd be embarrassed even though she'd never said anything outright. And her invitation, totally open, to both of us. That she'd open the door and let us in should we take her up. What had she expected to happen? All it had been before was a spanking. She'd spank me again? In front of Ken?
It was idiocy. What could possibly make her think I'd be interested in a repeat of our little scene so many years back? Ken snored. I found myself sitting on the side of my bed. I found my robe.
She opened the door a crack, then wider. "And where's Ken?" she asked as she let me in.
"Asleep," I said.
She took my hand. She took off her robe, her nightgown was not sheer, but revealing. Of course, I'd seen her many times. She sat on the side of the bed. "But he's supposed to learn how it's done," she said. I'd dropped my robe. I stood next to her, in my nightgown. I was paralyzed, unable to move. "The nightgown too," she said. When I still didn't move, she lifted the hem. Then after waiting a moment for me to take over, she stood and pulled it off me.
* * *
She massaged my rear. I knew it was coming, any second. Back in college she hadn't massaged my rear first. "Your husband was supposed to be here," she said. "To learn what you need. You need this, don't you?"
I didn't answer. She gave me a first smack, then giggled. "You know," she said, "since our little experience at college, I've since discovered that I'm quite good at this." She gave me another. It stung. "If you'd brought your husband, he would have found that out too."
* * *
She'd taken off her nightgown. I knelt between her legs, her hands on the side of my head, softly yet I could tell they'd be unyielding if I did anything but what she intended. My rear still stung. She'd seemed so happy putting it in that state, massaging it more, between. "You know," she said as I kept my tongue busy, "this is quite pleasant." Her breathing had told me that already. "But I'm convinced that husband of yours can give me a real thrill. He's going to wake up in the morning to find us both in his bed."
I felt her hands, slightly firmer as if I might try to protest. They relaxed once I gave in. I merely continued as she obviously intended. She laughed, seemingly at my behavior or lack of it. "And," she said, "he's also going to learn first hand about my talent. The one you enjoy so much."
Cyan Stories
Erotic fiction, sex stories, for erotica lovers.