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Carla's first time

“Carla, come in here please.” I heard my husband calling from the dining room, where I had spread out the books I needed to write my term paper on the table, next to my laptop.

“Sure honey,” I called back. I finished hanging the shirt I’d just ironed, and switched the iron off at the wall. Unsuspecting, I wandered through to the dining room.

“What’s up?”

Dave was sitting in front of my laptop. He looked around, his face serious – not a usual look for him, he’s quite the joker.

“Did you get much done on your paper today, Carla?” he asked.

“Quite a bit. But I’m really stuck on the final analysis, so I may need to ask my professor for an extension.”

Dave works in biomechanics, the area I’m also studying, so I thought he’d been glancing over my paper to see if he could help.

“An extension… are you sure you’ve been working hard enough to warrant an extension?” he responded.

I was confused. “What… what do you mean?”

“Well, if you’d been working really hard all day and still couldn’t get it done, then I’d understand. But be truthful, Carla, you haven’t been working hard at it all day have you?”

“I had the odd coffee break, but I was in front of that damn laptop pretty much constantly since 8am this morning!” I protested.

“You may have been sitting in front of your laptop all day, but I get the feeling you weren’t working on your paper that whole time, were you?”

My heart sank – what if he…? Hadn’t I…?

Dave frowned at me. “I just wanted to check out a Google map, so I jumped online on your laptop. And when I bumped the screen saver, this browser came up,” he continued, moving the mouse so my screen lit up to show… a browser opened to Lush.

Gulp – I hadn’t closed it down and cleared my history before Dave got home. I was normally so careful, but this time – that’s right, my Mom had rung and asked me to check our diary for dinner next week, and I’d wandered off to do that and then got distracted and had never come back to my laptop. I was just checking out the latest Lush stories – a half hour at what the end of what really had been a full day’s work. And now Dave knew my dirty little secret. I felt mortified.

“It’s not what it looks like,” I blurted.

“Hmm, and what would that be?” he queried.

“Okay, it is what it looks like but… I was just curious.” I finished lamely.

“It seems as though most of the stories you read on this site had a spanking theme,” he gestured to the screen again. “Is that something that… interests you, Carla?”. Dave looked at me with a raised eyebrow.

Oh god, he was so good looking, and we had a great sex life but it was kind of… straight. How could I tell him that although I found him incredibly attractive and fully enjoyed making love with him, when I fantasized it was about something a bit different.

“Ummm, well, you know, I…” my voice tailed off again.

“I see,” he said. Then in a firmer tone “I think there’s only one way to deal with this. You deserve to be punished for mucking around when you were supposed to be finishing your paper, and I think it’s high time you got to experience some of what you’ve obviously enjoyed reading about.”

My heart leapt – wow, was he really going to…

“It’s late,” he continued. “I want you to go and get ready for bed. Put your pyjamas on, but no panties underneath. Wait for me in the bedroom, and I’ll be in shortly,” he finished sternly, turning back to my laptop with a dismissive gesture.

I scuttled out of the dining room, and was up the stairs in our bedroom before I knew it. My fingers trembled as I got undressed. It felt weird putting my PJs on, as I normally wore panties underneath, but Dave had been quite clear on that point. My PJs aren’t particularly sexy – cotton fleece drawstring trousers and a singlet top, but I have a good body and they still show off a few curves.

Once I’d changed and sat down on the bed to wait for Dave, I had time to think about what would come next. He’d said I deserved to be punished, and he was obviously planning a spanking – my first one! But how would he do it – over his knee, me standing in front of him, lying on the bed – my mind raced through all the permutations of position I had read about on Lush over the last few months since I discovered the site.

My stomach was full of butterflies. I could swear my butt was already tingling in anticipation. My cunt certainly was – the excitement of finally living out my fantasy was making me wet already.

I took a deep breath. How much longer would Dave be? And what was he doing? Should I wait sitting here on the bed, or should I be standing when he comes in? Would it hurt a lot? Would I enjoy it as much as I thought I would?

I got up, and then sat down on the edge again. I played with my hair. I smoothed my PJ trousers down along my legs. Oh god, I was getting more nervous by the minute. Now I just wanted to get started – the suspense was killing me.

Finally I heard Dave’s footsteps coming up the stairs. He stopped to use the bathroom and brush his teeth – arrggghh… didn’t he know I was in here waiting on tenterhooks? Why was he mucking around worrying about his teeth, of all things!

“Stand up,” Dave’s loud voice startled me. I jumped up from the edge of the bed as though I’d been shocked. I hadn’t realized he’d finally come into the bedroom.

He looked me over, and nodded approvingly.

“So, it’s the thought of being spanked that gets you turned on these days, is it?”

A rhetorical question, I decided, and stayed silent, looking down at my feet in embarrassment.

“What is it about being spanked that appeals?” he persisted.

Damn. He wasn’t going to let me away on this one.

“Just that…um… I guess it’s the thought of… being under someone else’s control,“ I finished in a rush.

“I can help you with that,” he mused. He reached out and grabbed my wrist, pulling me towards the end of the bed. Placing both hands on my shoulders he turned me around so I was facing the foot of the bed. “Now bend over, and present that sweet ass of yours for me to give you the spanking you want and deserve.”

His rough voice, and rough way of putting me into the position he wanted, sent a rush of warmth to my cunt. I bent over as he’d instructed, putting my forearms flat on the bed. My ass was already sticking up in the air when I began to realize what a truly vulnerable position this was. Dave pushed down on my lower back.

“Arch your back and present your butt for me, honey” he said gruffly. I could tell by the change in his voice that he was getting turned on too. I arched as much as I could, pushing my butt up and out.

“When I was young, my Dad would take a slipper to us when we’d misbehaved,” I heard Dave say. Wow – that surprised me, he’d never spoken about that before.

“And I can see this sweet ass of yours would benefit from that same treatment,” he continued.

He reached down to pick up one of his slippers that was sitting beside the bed. Dave has big feet, and for some reason he favours those Granddad-style tartan slippers with the leather soles. I realized I was about to get very well acquainted with this particular slipper.

“Since this is your first spanking, we’ll do it over your PJs.”

I felt a little disappointed, but a tiny bit relieved at the same time. I’d kind of always imagined being hand spanked, it seemed likely that a slipper would hurt a lot more. Having something between my skin and its sole might well be a good thing. But there was something naughtier about being bent over and spanked by my husband with a slipper, like I was a little girl. I was getting more turned on by the minute.

Dave grasped the waistband of my PJ trousers firmly in one hand, and pulled up slightly so that the fabric was taut over my buttocks. Because I had no panties on, the seam rode up between my slick lips and created a certain friction that only made that area throb with the need for release even more.

I felt the sole of the slipper do a circle on my right butt cheek first. Dave must be lining up and choosing his spot, I thought. I braced myself for the first spank.

Dave pulled the slipper back and WHACK! I bucked, and yelped – the sting from the leather sole was much more intense than I had anticipated. The PJs hardly felt like any protection at all. Before I had chance to really catch my breath, Dave pulled back and landed the slipper with another almighty WHACK, square on my left butt check this time.

He quickly got into the swing of things, landing alternate swats on each cheek with only a few seconds respite in between. I counted 12, before he stopped for a moment. Tears were pricking my eyes and I was breathing heavily, both from the exertion of keeping myself in his position without wriggling or kicking, and from the building wave of desire inside me. It felt so good to be disciplined by this loving husband of mine.

“Last two,” Dave told me. “And they’re going to be hard ones to finish off.”

WHACK, WHACK. He delivered the last two smacks double strength, one to each cheek.

I heard him drop the slipper and grab the waistband of my PJs with my hands. He dragged them down across my throbbing ass, down to my knees. He pushed me flat onto the bed, face down. I heard him fumble with his own pants, his breathing as heavy as my own.

He thrust two fingers inside me, realizing that I was dripping already. I felt my cunt stretching, as he forced a third then a fourth fingers deep inside. His weight came on top of me as he removed his hand, and he guided his thick cock into me instead.

I felt totally pinned, with my PJs around my knees making it hard for me to spread my legs as wide as I wanted, but he just kept pounding in to me. This was the feeling, the losing control feeling, I had been yearning for. I was being fucked, entirely at my husband’s will. And every time he slammed into me, his body would push up against my tender ass, reminding me of the spanking he had just given me. I came hard, and the contractions of my cunt around his penis must have been intense because he cried out and came too, with one long deep thrust inside me.

We lay, spent, on the bed, him still on top of me. My ass ached, but it all added to the most amazing post-orgasmic feeling.

"Thank you”, I whispered to him.

“Anytime”, he responded. God, I hope he meant it.

This story is protected by International Copyright Law, by the author, all rights reserved. If found posted anywhere other than with this note attached, it has been posted without my permission.

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