Bad Penny (8 page)

‘Tell me,' I breathed.

‘You're not going to suddenly yell rape or something, are you?' he asked.

I shook my head. My fingers were trembling on his thigh, and I was wondering if I dared move a little further up, towards his crotch. A strong feeling of expectation was building up inside me, yet I felt less than entirely sure of myself, and while it seemed that something was going to happen, I didn't really want to lead.

‘I . . . I mean, tell you what?' he said uncertainly.

‘What do you like to see?' I asked. ‘Especially?'

‘You'll just think I'm a pervert,' he said uncertainly.

‘I promise I won't,' I assured him.

‘Girls . . . girls in their knickers,' he stammered.

‘And nothing else?' I queried.

‘Well, maybe,' he answered, ‘or maybe just showing them, as if by accident or to tease . . . Look, you just think I'm a pervert, don't you?'

‘No, no,' I insisted, ‘I want you to tell me. After all that rubbish he was spouting, I just want to hear that girls are sexy, that I'm sexy . . .'

‘You are,' he put in, ‘you're really sweet.'

‘Thanks,' I answered. ‘Now go on like you were before. Tell me what sort of panties you like.'

I may have been inexperienced, but I knew enough from Kate to know that one of the best ways to seduce a man was to get into a dirty conversation. It was turning me on, too. The idea of girls showing their panties really appealed to me, although in my fantasies mine were always put on show to humiliate me or shown off because I'd torn my skirt or something. Another thing about panties is that they represent a girl's last barrier to a cock or a smacking hand, and I'd always found the idea of having my knickers pulled down particularly exciting.

‘White are best,' he said, ‘and quite big, and tight . . .'

‘What about pretty colours, like pale blue or pink?' I asked.

‘They're nice,' he answered. ‘Anything, as long as it doesn't look deliberately tarty. My favourite picture shows a girl bending over a gate, and this farmer's lifted her skirt to show her knickers to his friends, but she hasn't realised. It's only a cartoon, but it's so sexy. Her knickers are pink and really tight, and her bottom looks so firm and full . . .'

‘Mine are pink,' I said. ‘Would you like to see me like that?'

He nodded and swallowed hard. I was really turned on, imagining the girl he'd described and thinking how humiliating it would be to be caught like that, and then when I protested they'd just laugh at me, take my precious panties down and give me a good spanking to teach me a lesson. Maybe it was because I'd seen him really broken down, or maybe because I was so turned on, but I felt I could ask.

‘Go on, then,' I urged.

‘What?' he queried.

‘Make me show my panties,' I told him.

‘Here?' he demanded.

‘We'll hear anyone coming,' I pointed out. ‘but let's go in by the canteen, just in case.'

I took his hand and pulled him after me, feeling thoroughly mischievous. The area we went to was a square enclave and mainly blocked from view by a pillar. It was for students to get snack lunches but the little canteen was shut, leaving us a quiet space illuminated only by the street lights outside.

I felt great. Downstairs they were still ranting away about the evils of pornography and sex in general. I was upstairs and about to show my panties to a handsome young man. It was all so deliciously rude, and I was giggling as we made for the bit with the best light.

‘What's your name, by the way?' he asked, sitting down by the wall.

‘Penny,' I replied. ‘Penny Birch, and yours?'

‘Alexander Shaw,' he told me.

‘Well, Alexander,' I replied, deliberately imitating Rachel's voice. ‘Now that we've been formally introduced, I suppose it's acceptable to flirt with you.'

He may not have realised who I was imitating, but he laughed anyway.

‘It is quite unsuitable,' I said pompously, continuing the game, ‘for a woman to dress in a fashion that either highlights her figure or risks being sexually provocative. Above all, she should never show her underwear. This position, for instance, is quite indecorous.'

I turned and pulled up my dress, showing my legs and then the seat of my panties. As I looked back over my shoulder, I found him transfixed, his eyes glued to my bottom and legs. He looked really excited, and it was because of me. It felt really good, bending over to show my panties, an act which Rachel would have found unspeakably rude.

‘That's nice,' he breathed.

‘Especially offensive to propriety,' I continued, sticking my bottom out, ‘is any display that in any way suggests that the woman is sexually available.'

I wiggled my bottom, watching him. His hand was near his crotch, but not actually on it. I stayed in position, bent forward so that my skirt rested in the small of my back. My bottom was stuck right out, my panties taut across my cheeks. My pulse was fast and my breathing was deep, too, as if I needed to take in extra air.

‘Should you see a woman in such a pose,' I went on, elaborating the game, ‘it would not be inappropriate to punish her. A spanking might be considered suitable.'

That was it; I'd been teasing, playful, yet I'd said what I really wanted.

‘Would you let me?' he asked quietly.

My heart leapt as he said it. I'd done it; I'd found someone who wanted to smack my bottom!

‘You wouldn't!' I teased.

He grinned, and not shyly either.

‘No, sir, please!' I squeaked as he got up. ‘Not that!'

‘I'm afraid that it is my duty,' he said sternly.

‘No,' I whimpered, ‘please, no, sir, not a spanking!'

He approached me, slowly, and then took me gently around the waist. I closed my eyes in bliss, concentrating on the feel of his strong arm as it circled my waist. We'd been playing, an erotic game, but still play. Now we weren't. He was going to spank me for real. It would really sting, really make me blush and kick and squeak. I sighed as his hand touched my bottom through my panties. It began to move, firmly and in little circles.

‘Come on, punish me,' I breathed.

His hand left my bottom and then came down across my cheeks, quite hard. I gave a little gasp, revelling in the sensation of it as another smack fell on the seat of my panties. I was bent over with my dress pulled up, being spanked purely because it excited him to punish me. My bottom was warming under the smacks too, and the heat went to my pussy.

He tightened his grip and started to spank harder, making me feel helpless. I started to kick a bit with each slap, wondering if he still needed prompting to take my panties down. A sudden flurry of sharp smacks had me squeaking and gasping and I realised that he almost certainly didn't.

‘I'm going to pull your knickers down, Penny,' he said.

I just sighed. His hand went to my waistband and down they came, slowly, peeled down to expose my hot bottom to his gaze. The way he did it was really lecherous, and very different from the pre-emptory, matter-of-fact way my aunt had pulled my panties down the last time I'd been spanked. She'd done it because she didn't see why they should stay up, although she was certainly aware that it shamed me to have my bottom stripped as if my exposure were of no importance. Alex obviously regarded it as very important, peeling them down and breathing heavily as my bare bum came on show. I sighed deeply as he settled them around my thighs, opening my legs in completely willing surrender.

I was open in front of him, wet, vulnerable and eager, my pussy gaping, my bumhole showing, my reddened bottom stuck up, naked. He began to caress me, fondling my bottom like a prize peach and giving the occasional little slap to make my cheeks bounce. There was something really lewd about the way he did it, moulding and squeezing my flesh, pulling my cheeks open so that he could get a sneaky peep at my bottom-hole.

‘I want to see you kick again,' he said, his voice thick with lust.

He took me back around the waist, much harder, and really began to beat me. The smacks were hard, and given with the flat of his hand across the tuck of my bottom so that each sent a shock straight to my pussy. It hurt, too, and I was quickly kicking as much as he could have wanted, my legs going up and down and my bottom bucking under the pain. I was squealing too, trying to keep quiet but not really succeeding.

When he finally stopped, it was all I could do to slump over the table. I felt genuinely punished and sorry for myself, but also in ecstasy, having been given a good, hard, male spanking for the first time.

He went back to exploring me, now touching my body with a prurient interest that I can only describe as molestation. Not that I minded, but it made me feel really defiled to have my bum-cheeks pulled apart and my anus inspected in minute detail from a distance of a few inches. He paid no attention to my boobs at all, but was completely absorbed in my naked, red bottom and the rear of my pussy. I took a grip on the far side of the table and clung on, hoping that, when he'd taken in every detail of my sex, he'd just fuck me out of hand.

‘You're so lovely, Penny,' he breathed.

‘You can touch,' I assured him. ‘Anywhere.'

‘Even . . .?' he said hesitantly.

‘Yes,' I answered, although unsure if he meant my pussy or anus.

An instant later fingers touched my vagina and the very centre of my burnhole simultaneously. If his gaze had been intrusive, then once he'd been given permission to touch it was worse. A finger slid up my vagina, another probed my anus.

‘Not pussy and bum with the same finger,' I told him.

‘Right,' he replied and slid his fingers further in.

He put another in my pussy and started to wiggle all three inside me. The intrusive, prying quality of his exploration was really getting to me, but when he started to move them I really let go, panting and sighing and just purring from the feel of such intimate indignity. I was so wet that I could feel my own juice on the insides of my thighs where my panties were touching. He seemed content with just molesting me, but he was only using one hand, and I could guess what he was up to with the other. I was enjoying being felt, but he was getting quite frantic and maybe was just going to come while he fondled me. I was sure it would be easy to enter me, yet there was still a little scared voice in the back of my head telling me not to let him. Then I remembered Rachel and the League of Purity and how much I hated their cold, disapproving attitude to life.

‘Put it inside,' I begged, my voice urgent yet small in my own ears.

‘May I really?' he asked as if in disbelief.

‘Yes, please do it,' I begged, determined to let him have me before I got second thoughts.

‘Oh, thank you,' he sighed as he took his fingers out of me.

Even as I felt something firm touch my vulva I realised that he too must have been virgin, for all his height and looks. Then my vagina was opening under the pressure of his cock and I wasn't thinking of anything except the fact that I was being entered. There was no pain; it just slid inside me, filling me with a blissful, soothing sensation that just made me want to close my eyes and purr.

I was lost, bent over with a freshly smacked bottom and a penis inside me, absolutely in heaven. He did it slowly at first, as if unsure, then sped up and started to groan and grunt. I realised he was going to come, as he was riding me with the same frantic urgency that Aran had always shown just before orgasm. It had hurt in my bottom; though in my pussy it was bliss and had me panting and groaning without restraint. He hadn't been in me two minutes, though, and I wanted more . . .

Only I didn't get it. At that instant, just as he started to come, the lights flooded on. I opened my eyes to find myself looking straight at Rachel and the speaker from the meeting. Her mouth was open, and I'll never forget the look on her face if I live to be a hundred.

‘Penny!' she gasped.

As if that wasn't bad enough, Alex was at the point of no return, actually coming as the lights went on. He pulled sharply back, spraying my reddened bottom-cheeks with sperm and treating them all to a fine view of his erection at the very point of orgasm. Rachel screamed, the speaker was trying to find words but couldn't. I just smiled.

5

Hothouse Peaches

There had always been something sexual between my cousin Kate and I. Not that it had ever amounted to much: just hugs and kisses that were perhaps more intimate than was normal between close friends. There had also been her desire to have me lose my virginity, and to watch it happen. She had been seriously turned on by it, playing with herself while her brand new husband prepared to enter me. Unfortunately that had been the moment that Kate's mother Elaine, my aunt, chose to turn up. They had made a hasty retreat; I'd been spanked.

I hadn't seen Kate since, but the memory of that spanking was still hot in my mind. It had turned me on so much that I'd given myself an orgasm afterwards – my first – yet in my fantasy it had been Kate and not her mother who had me across her knee as I squealed and kicked my way through the punishment. I'd always liked the idea, and had actually suggested it to Kate before that, but she'd just giggled.

Since then a lot had happened to me. I'd gone up to university, done well enough to give my confidence a serious boost and had two serious relationships. The first had been with Aran Ray, a magnificently athletic black man who was obsessed with my bottom. He had buggered me, really roughly. I hadn't minded until I found out that he was uninterested in anything else. Then there had been Alex, who was obsessed with me full stop and with whom I was still going out. He had taken my virginity; indeed, we had traded virginities. We had been experimenting enthusiastically ever since, and, nearly a year after I had seen Kate, my sexual experience and confidence had improved a thousandfold.