Lost in my world listening to a Tears For Fears playlist, I returned from my walk to and on the beach. The primary purpose was exercise, but the music and the beach made the healthy necessity enjoyable. Trying to increase my pace, I was working towards a fifteen-minute mile and was only about thirty seconds short of that goal today.
Given how flat it is, one would think that such exercise is easier in Florida, but I actually live on a hill that rises some fifty feet over the road to the beach. Then there’s the drawbridge over the Intracoastal Waterway with a much steeper grade on the way back.
The sun was warm, but a cool gulf breeze made the effort even more pleasant. I often walk in the early morning hours, sometimes before the sun rises, to take advantage of the cooler temperatures, but other times, like today, I go later for the eye candy on the beach.
Not exactly a Spring Break destination, the students that come to ‘my’ beaches are probably trying to avoid the craziness of those crowds, but that doesn’t mean there aren’t plenty of them. In the mile and a half of the beach portion of my walk, I saw quite a few young hardbodies among the retirees and snowbirds.
The sight of one trio was etched in my mind. Lying on their fronts away from the water, they were obviously working on their tan, giving the passing crowd a delicious view between their thighs, spread invitingly to maximize sun exposure. Wearing almost-nothing swimsuits, the slim strip of fabric between their legs just barely covered their sweet young pussies. I would have sworn that one girl had a bit of those delicious lips peeking out.
If it weren’t for the considerable number of people also walking, not sunbathing, on the beach I might have stopped for a few seconds to enjoy the view. As it was, I had to satisfy myself with a fantasy of them requesting the services of my tongue in their sweaty, slippery slits, maybe with them sitting on my face and their bikinis pulled to the side for full access. Passersby jealously watching as the three girls took turns to squat on my ready and willing tongue.
On the return trip, I took another look and pushed the fantasy out of my mind, concentrating on the music instead.
I was on the downside of the drawbridge, fully immersed in my music, and I didn’t hear the cyclists behind me wanting to pass but afraid of hitting me on the narrow bridge walkway. I first became aware of them when the fat tire of one of their beach cruisers touched the back of my calf. I literally jumped at the unexpected contact, instinctively hugging the short wall separating the car traffic from pedestrians.
“I’m so sorry, sir!” a young female voice said. I looked up from the offending tire and saw a pretty young blonde looking nervously at me from her perch atop the seat, with one leg on the ground holding her up.
In a modest yet enticing swimsuit, the girl smiled when she saw me smile, and with the beach fantasy still rattling around in my brain, I looked down between her legs at the enticing little bulge her swimsuit hid. ‘Oh, to be a bicycle seat!’ I thought.
“Are you okay, sir?” a different voice asked, and then I realized there were two of them.
The other appeared only a little older than the first, also in a swimsuit that had me pining for my youthful days when such an opportunity would not be missed without trying to get my hands into or these girls out of those skimpy suits.
“Yes, I’m okay,” I said, taking a deep breath that they probably took as a result of the bicycle tire hitting me, but was really me reacting to my imagining their nubile bodies, naked with their tight, young pussies splayed on the bicycle seats.
“We tried calling out to you, but you didn’t hear us,” the blonde said.
“Yeah, you probably shouldn’t have the music so loud that you can’t hear what’s going on around you!” the brunette scolded.
“Hey!” I started, “If you were my daughters, I’d be telling you to respect your elders as I put you across my knee!”
I shocked myself with that declaration as I’m not usually that brazen. I’m in pretty good shape, but I won’t say how much older I was, and my hair color would attest to the fact that I’m easily old enough to be their father or even …
I let that thought go, getting one last look at the two beauties as their feet re-engaged the pedals and pushed off.
“We’re too old to get spanked!” the blonde giggled as they pedaled away.
“You’re never too old to get spanked!” I called after them, eliciting another round of giggles as I watched their beautiful backsides flex with the effort of pedaling. Again, I couldn’t believe I’d just said that and chalked it up to the temptations of so many young, sexy bodies that day.
I resumed my walk, another hundred yards or so of the bridge remaining. I watched the girls as they disappeared in the distance and set my mind back on the amazing songs of the ‘Seeds Of Love’ album.
Another ten minutes down the road, I turned off the sidewalk next to the road to distance myself from the traffic noise, walking instead through the parking lot of a storage facility. I often look down as I walk, looking up only occasionally to get my bearings, but I looked up when I heard that same young female voice.
“Do you believe that, sir?” she asked, distracting me from my music again.
She was standing behind a machine that dispensed bottled water and ice, and again, I was taken aback at her youthful beauty. Her pretty smile beamed from a cute face framed by long, windblown blonde hair. Standing now, with the bike between her legs, I noticed her modest tits half exposed by the small suit top and then her slim body, swelling only slightly where her suit stretched tightly over her hips and crotch.
“I’m sorry, what?” I replied, entranced by her body and confused by the out-of-context question.
“Do you believe what you said?” she asked again and continued when I showed no signs of understanding, “That you’re never too old to be spanked?”
To say I was stunned would be the understatement of the year.
“How old are you?” I asked in disbelief, thinking the heat had got to me.
“We’re nineteen,” she replied with the pride of youth.
“Um. Yes. Yes, I believe you’re never too old for a spanking,” I replied with a serious face, as though answering a serious question. The image of this cute girl across my knee was instantly in my mind.
“Would you do it?” she asked. Still too surprised to respond, she continued, “Spank me? If I … if I asked you to?”
I imagined she could see that I was seriously thinking about it and putting the kickstand in place; she left her bike to walk up to me and took my hand. She pulled me behind the ice machine, stood so close to me I could feel the warmth of her body, and placed my hand firmly on her tight little rump. Her small suit left a couple of fingers touching the bare flesh of the bottom of her warm cheek.
“I’m sorry I hit you with my bike. I deserve a good spanking, don’t I? Ooo!” she yelped when I lifted my hand off her perfect butt and smacked it playfully. “Again!” she said, smiling with her lower lip between her teeth and yanking her suit down in back to offer a bare cheek. I quickly smacked each cheek just a bit harder.
“I don’t believe you, Candy!” her friend laughed.
“Ooo, yeah!” she said, putting her hand over mine and rubbing her bottom with my hand. “Will you put me over your knee and give me a real spanking?” she asked, looking into my eyes as my hand caressed her firm, round bottom.
“Here?” I asked, believing she’d do anything at this point.
“No. In my condo! It’s just across the bridge,” she said, adding, “Please?” when I didn’t respond immediately.
“You don’t even know me, um, Candy,” I pointed out to her, though my cock was straining at the fabric of my shorts, begging me to do it.
“That’s okay. Diane will be there to make sure you don’t do anything you shouldn’t,” she said, and when I looked over at Diane, she added, “She knows Tae-Kwon-Do.” Diane smiled, and I figured she’d been in this situation before.
“Okay. Where do I …” I started but was interrupted.
“It’s the pink and beige condo right at the end of the bridge,” she said as she got back on her bicycle. “Fourth floor. Ring the buzzer in the lobby, and I’ll send the elevator. Hurry, Daddy!” she giggled as they pushed off and rode away, with Candy looking back a couple of times until she saw me start walking in their direction.
I almost stopped, thinking this couldn’t be happening, but my hand remembered the feel of smacking her perfect bottom, and caution took a back seat to desire.
“Total distance, four miles. Total duration, one hour, fifteen minutes. Pace …” my exercise app announced through my earbuds, and I laughed, thinking they ought to make an app for spanking. ‘Total spanks, one hundred. Total time, five minutes. Bottom color, light pink.’
I was pretty hot and sweaty as I walked back over the bridge for the second time today, but they probably were, too. Thinking of what was about to happen, I realized it had been many years since I’d spanked someone as young as Candy, and I started getting hard imagining her firm, little tush quivering under my punishing hand.
I arrived at the condo and was soon riding the elevator to the fourth floor. When the door opened, Diane was standing there to greet me.
“Our little girl has been very naughty today, and I think she should be spanked more severely than the last time,” she said, assuming the role of … mommy?
“Yes, I believe you’re right,” I replied.
Looking towards the back of the condo, I could see a vast expanse of open doors with a fantastic view of the gulf. A cool breeze blew through the room, making it very comfortable despite the lack of air conditioning.
Diane motioned me into the large open-plan room with living, dining, and kitchen open to the breathtaking vista. About halfway in, I saw Candy sitting in a chair, conspicuously located in the middle of the room facing out, just within the shade of the western-facing room.