Christmas!

So tough for us girls at Christmas, are we good and gets lots of presents, or be naughty and get deliciously  punished? I won't tell you my decision, but however I behave I'm hoping to wake up and find something exciting in my stocking!

Whatever you are all up to, do all have a wonderful Christmas. As for me,  I'm already looking forward to producing some naughty posts for when I'm back with you all.

Liz   xxx

Mrs Robinson!

Having read my recent post on dirty old men, my correspondent James     commented  that it was a bit one sided and that there were Mrs Robinsons  in this world redressing the balance. I did wonder for a second if there was a touch of “Methinks the lady doth protest too much” in his comment, not that for one second  I thought  that James was a secret female, but then I decided that  it was time  to give the Mrs Robinsons of this world some credit. After all one day, please God a long way  in the future, I might well become a Mrs Robinson myself.

For the uninitiated,  in 1967 Dustin Hoffman and Anna  Bancroft starred in a film called The Graduate (yes, it was before my time too, but it’s a bit of a classic)  and the central theme was Mrs Robinson, an older woman, seducing a boy of college age and thus introducing the world to the Mrs Robinson character,  the sexually predatory older woman.

Nothing in this world ever appears fully formed, but always evolves and emerges from something else but the astute can generally see the signs at  an early stage. The Mrs Robinsons of this world were once upon a time doe  eyed creatures of innocence, confused by sex and a it’s ramifications but very curious about it and eager to  know more.

“Oh is THAT what a cock looks like!  Gosh it’s rather wonderful isn’t it, and  its getting bigger all the time. My God it’s huge isnt it! May I touch it? I can! Oh you  are so kind. It’s very firm and twitchy isn’t it and there’s a sort of dew drop at the tip. Is it all right if I lick it off.......?  

      

And so on and so on.  In private she now loves to dwell on all he new and wonderful experiences, playing them over in her mind as her inquisitive fingers recreate the wonderful sensations she has experienced.

Before we know it the this student of the erotic arts is a young queen of  bedroom, adept in all things arousing and pleasing and  still eager to hone her skills at every opportunity.

At this stage in her career  the embryonic Mrs Robinson tends to enjoy the company of  older men as they can teach her so much, and if that means that  a little discipline  has to be exercised on her upturned and deliciously bare bottom from time to time, it is part of her education and she does not complain.

At this stage in her life the world is her oyster  and all is kissing and pleasure and it is as if it will never come to an end.

I her middle period she is mistress of her life, switching from dominant to submissive at will depending on who she is with. She is happy to be the plaything  of the dominant male and equally happy to mingle with lovers  of nearer her own age.

Now confident in all aspects of love and lust, she enjoys passing on her skills  to the new breed of up and coming sex kittens,

but if course not forgetting to teach lessons that will not be easily forgotten.

It is at this stage that she first discovers the pleasures of the young and uninitiated  male, the smooth faced boy with a clean hairless body but with an appendage that is  savage and uncontrollable and apparently  insatiable.

Previously  her younger but sexually sophisticated self had  dismissed them as being of no interest, but now the beauties of their freshly formed bodies and the hunger of their new manhoods seems irresistible.

 It seems to be the perfect marriage, a woman adept in all the bedroom arts and a boy eager to learn and experiment, and if occasionally an undignified lesson has to be learned, well it’s the fortunes of war!

After all she’s prepared to let the right young man turn the tables on her from time to time.

In her final stages Mrs Robinson is patient, philosophical and sanguine.  She still has an undoubted presence and has looked after her figure well. She may not be a girl any more but she is still a force to be reckoned with. At parties she is to be seen hovering in corners and entertaining all around her with scandalous stories of her past misdeeds, a glass of champagne in her hand and her eyes constantly on the lookout for any potential young conquests. Should  any  come close to the outer silk of her web, before they know it her words and charm are enticing  them further in, and without realising what is happening to them they are being  prepared as her next feast.   

And all I can say is lucky them!

Even Dirty Old Men need love!

A comment  from a  follower drew my attention to the fact at the world is full of dirty old men and it occurred to me that they are a much maligned species and need the same amount of love an affection as the rest of us. Let me clarify however that I am not talking about those who interfere  with the young and the otherwise vulnerable who should be castrated then tied to the railings of any convenient public building so we can all throw donkey poo at them.

So what is a dirty old man, or DOM to save me repeatedly typing it? Essentially a DOM is a fourteen year old boy who happens to have stayed  that age for quite a long time now and over the years has acquired  a certain dexterity if not polish at appreciating the pleasures of the well endowed or not overly dressed  female,

or indeed judging by the behaviour of many DOM, any female at all not actually resident in a twilight home.

Being unsophisticated and inexperienced a real  fourteen year old boy tends to nudge his mates and go “Phwoarre “ whenever he sees a girl in a tight tee shirt or tiny skirt,

whereas the embryonic or junior DOM certainly thinks that but his efforts to strangle it at birth means that  it comes out  in a sort of strangulated  whistle. The fully fledged DOM in possession of a bus pass and elasticated trousers (they’re so comfortable!) is happy to nudge complete strangers and give the full phwoarre routine along with raspberry noises and uncalled for strange arm movements.

Both fourteen year old boys and DOM spend a lot of their thinking about all the  things that they would  like to do to any passing totty given half  a chance,

but  circumstances won’t allow them to, so they  deal with this by playing with their willys in a virtuous attempt to  expel all sexual thoughts, and indeed after expelling great ribbons of something else, they tend to be  free of such thoughts for at least three or four minutes .

The big difference between fourteen year old boys and DOM is  subtle one. The boys look at provocatively clad girls and positively revel in their near undress, dreaming of the days when they will be just that bit older and such totty  will be theirs for the taking.

This tends to be what they  think about  when playing  with their  willies .

DOM on the other  hand think it quiet disgusting that these young tartlets should be strutting the pavements  making an exhibition of their pretty little boobs  and cute little bums and giving everybody flashes of underwear when they do the bend and  stretch,

 and convince themselves that:-

(a)  said strumpets would benefit from a good old fashioned across the knee spanking, skirt up and knickers down,

and

(b) that they would be the  best possible person to administer it, and as they have  a clear hour to spare before their bus comes, way not here and now?

This tends to be what they  think about  when playing  with their  willies.

So sincere is the advanced DOM about that that he keeps  a supply of books and magazines on the very subject to of dealing with naughty girls be consulted on a regular basis.

He is not entirely without cultural interests and often can be seen browsing the window of specialist bookshops,

and often imagines that maybe he and his best friend might expand their horizons and go off to somewhere historic and obscure together where they can enjoy  days lying on the beach enjoying the beauties  of nature,

and maybe at night split the cost of having a simple  relaxing massage together,

but that is still yet to happen.

 

So what happens to men between being fourteen and emerging as resplendent fully formed and battle scared DOM? Not a lot. Most of them go through a period  where they learn to keep their politically incorrect thoughts to themselves, even though inside they are still simmering like a pressure cooker. This is called marriage. This rarely works for very long (whatever did I see in her?)

and  then have to endure the messy horror of the first divorce followed by the disappointment of the second marriage which, they went into seriously believing that they had learned from the first and that this time it would  be different. It’s after the second divorce when, like a person who has experienced a cataclysmic hangover they go round clutching their head and chanting “Never again!” and it’s only then that all their pent up thoughts about that secretary he once  threatened to spank,

not to mention the au pair who they were certain was positively gagging for it,

are allowed glorious release and suddenly they can  be their true selves at last . Finally they can stand outside the pub with others of their breed  on a Saturday night  watching all the passing totty who would all benefit from the  attentions of an older and more experienced  man,  and uninhibitedly exchange pwoarres and be happy at last.

He doesn’t know it but  the DOM is a lover of beauty, even if after all these years he still hasn’t leaned appropriate ways of expressing it. He is a force of nature and has illustrious forbears, Jacques Casanova, Frank Harris, Pablo Picasso, Augustus John, and Georges Simenon to name but a few  He may have a bulge in his pants and roving hands but his heart is in the right place, and let us girls be honest, as we sashay past  a building site flashing our thighs and our uplift bras, it wouldn’t be the same without their chorus of approval!

Jane

Just occasionally I produce  a short story written from a man’s point of view. This is one of them. Enjoy!

She was a walking wet dream, an erotic fantasy made flesh, and just looking at her across the room sent my loins tingling. Maybe  nineteen or twenty and so ripe with juice it was almost  seeping from her skin. Leaving aside her gorgeous pouting face, it was hard to choose which bit of her was the most arousing. Her bottom was a thing of beauty  tightly clad in a short dress that pasted itself over its impudent  jut, and her legs were sleek and smooth and eroticised by sky high heels.

But it was her breasts that  I could not take my eyes off, firm and full and seeming to be straining upwards to  meet my eyes which kept sweeping over them. I wanted to touch them, lick them, expose them to the fresh air and having fondled and explored to the full, bathe them in a torrent of my sperm.

But that being out of the question I simply asked Jane who  was the proud owner of these luscious  breasts if maybe  Sally’s party had outlasted its early promise  and maybe I could offer her a taxi home? To my delight, and after a brief flash of her smouldering eyes in Sally’s  direction, she said yes.   She hooked her arm into mine as we walked off down the street and I felt sure that the night was only just beginning.

                                                    ***

“Mmm! You kiss nicely!”

“So do you!”

It was that  very pleasurable  stage in the proceedings, overtures and beginners and the main event scarcely  hinted at. She’d invited me in for a coffee, and one thing as they say had lead to another,

and now the two of us were rolling around on her massive sofa. I’d removed my jacket , but she was still in that lascivious dress which was fine with me as, unlike a lot of  men I enjoy all the preliminary stages of seduction, and wanted to savour  each element of it as it unfolded. Even so, I was a little surprised when I reached up a hand to explore one of those delicious breasts of hers to find her grasping my wrist and pulling it away.

As she was still kissing  me with real fervour I decided that she needed a little more time and continued to enjoy her mouth against my own, but a combination of the wine we’d been drinking and the sheer visual overload of her gorgeous body which was held tightly against me was having its effect and sheer animal  lust was taking me over. Almost without thinking about it my hands started to explore  her body again, but wherever they  landed she eased them away and I was getting a touch annoyed.

Everything she did was encouraging me, but at every turn I was also being rebuffed. I didn’t want to spoil  things by getting angry, but this  was taking cock teasing to a new level.

“What the devil is this?” I eventually said, sitting up and pulling away from her. It this some sort of game?"

“Of course not!” She looked  at me like a mongoose assessing a young and inexperienced snake. “It’s just that I’ve only just met you and I’m really not that  sort of girl.”

But what sort of girl  was she? Having said her piece she started to unbutton my shirt and to run her tongue down my chest so it seemed that everything  was  all some sort of erotic joke, but  it was a joke that was making my loins surge and my head swim with longing. Unable to contain myself I grabbed her wrists and swung her round so she was below my on the couch , then, after another session of hungry kissing I pinned both  of her hands above  he head in one of mine and with the other took possession  of a breast before sweeping my questing fingers down to her epicentre, but even as they made first contact she managed to squirm out from under me and she was free again.

Seconds later  we were both on our feet, the two of us staring each other and panting like a couple of cage fighters planning our next assault. For a moment neither of us spoke, the tension palpable and me  so confused  I didn’t know what to do. As I glared  at her, her eyes were  sending me messages I was unable to interpret. If she didn’t want to have sex with me on this our first time together I could cope with that, but accompanying it with this perpetual come on was too much. No girl had ever offered me so much and given so little and I simply did not know how to deal with it. Deciding that  I couldn’t take any more of this I was about to turn away and walk out when she put her hands up onto her head in a pose of pure provocation, all the while  her eyes full of blatant sexual promise.

“As I told you,”  she said.  “I’m not that sort of girl. I’m not going to have sex with you tonight............” She paused and   her eyes lidded like some old fashioned screen goddess.  “No matter how hard you spank me!”

I thought I had already been on fire, but now I was at melting point. This little madam had been working me up to this pitch of arousal and anger quite deliberately. What she wanted was for me to spank her, and had made sure that I was charged up and more than ready to do so. All my arousal and anger fused together in a great surge of sexual overload and even quicker than she could have imagined despite her carefully laid plan I had leaped across and grabbed her.  

“So you want to be spanked!” I said through gritted teeth “Well by God I’m not going to disappoint you!”

She screamed and struggled but in ways that long experience  told me was for effect only and in a second I was perched on the couch with that delicious body of hers across my knee and held firmly in place. Never had I seen a more spankable bottom, her dress stretched tightly over it and so short that it scarcely covered it, ending at that exact spot where thigh and bottom meld together.

The sight was so arousing and perfect it could not be improved on,  and anyway I was too impatient to punish her to waste precious  seconds pulling up her dress, so without any preamble I set in to spank her as hard and punitively as I could. My insides were churning with a cocktail of lust and rage and as her legs threshed and scissored  I brought my hand down on her provocative little arse with puritan fervour.

“I’m sorry! I’m sorry!”  She screamed back at me. “I didn’t mean it!” But now knowing that she was one of those females of the species  who get aroused by being punished I wasn’t going  to let up, and anyway I simply had to spank out my anger  at  her endless cock teasing earlier. I had spanked girlfriends  in the past, but  just as a bit of sexual role play but  never had I spanked anyone with the desire to hurt and punish as I was doing now. For whatever reason she had encouraged me to do  this, but I’m sure she hadn’t expected the punitive onslaught I was now visiting on her upturned bottom . She was screaming and protesting,

 but I had her tight and had no intention of letting her off lightly, and anyway it  was getting me so aroused that nothing was going to make me stop. Spank,  spank, spank my hand went , each punitive slap bouncing off that wicked little bottom of hers and nothing was going to make me stop till she had thoroughly learned her lesson.

To start with I needed no further  visual stimulation than the sight of her gorgeous derriere  shrink wrapped in that obscenely short skirt ,  but now a need for revenge decided me to move things along. The hem of her dress had already slipped up a tad so a good half of her lascivious  bottom was on view bifurcated by the  slim strip of white silk that was her panties,

so it was only the job of seconds to yank it up that bit further, and then drag her knickers  down to mid thigh, the sight of her  bare bottom making me even hornier than I was already.

“No!” She screamed. “Not with my knickers down!” But it was already too late and I was searing her bare bottom with the most  thorough spanking I could manage, still suffused with the need to get my  back.

 I could have gone on all night, but she was saved by lust overtaking my anger and the knowledge that  I had to fuck her or I would die

“Have you had enough?”  I  barked at her and she replied that she had , her  voice a plea for mercy . “And did you deserve  this and a lot more?” I demanded, determined that  when I finally  let her up she would be contrite and compliant.

“Yes, Sir! Yes, Sir!” She  answered,  and even as I let her go she was dragging off both of our clothes, her hands  on my burning cock and her  lips all over me.

From that point we  neither of us said very much and it wasn’t until  I had expelled my second gush  into her as she gasped and  moaned beneath me that either of us said anything at all.

It was after a long period of silence only broken by the sound of our joint breathing that  she finally spoke.

“I really needed that!” She said, snuggling into me.

“The fuck or the  spanking?” I answered.

She giggled. “I needed the fuck. I deserved the spanking! Sorry to have been such a little cow to start with. At least I know what to expect  from you from now on.”

My limpid cock gave a little twitch at her words, but nothing more than that. “How right you are!”  I kissed one of her nipples just for the pleasure of it . “So what  was this all about?  Miss virginal nice girl one minute then begging for all sort  of kinky treatment the next.”

“It’s complicated!” She lay back, her hands under her head and I could now take  time to enjoy the sight of those exquisite breasts of hers, gloriously  naked and stretched outwards and upwards by her pose.

 I would simply  have to fuck her again shortly, but I was determined to restrain myself for a while so as to get myself back to full potency. “I broke up with my last boyfriend a while  ago,  and the last  thing he said to me was that what I need was a man to give me damn good spanking from time to time to keep me in order. It made me feel a bit strange and melty inside but after that I didn’t think any more of it. Then a week ago I spent a weekend at Sally’s, you know, the girl who gave the party, and in the bedroom I was staying in I found she had quite a  stack of erotic books, several of them featuring girls who for one reason or another kept finding themselves in situations where they ended up being spanked.

You know, proper naughty girl spankings, across the knee  with their knickers down. It wasn’t anything that I’d had any experience of, but the idea got me really excited and the next  thing, and this is really embarrassing, while  I was  reading all this  and imagining that it was  me being punished like this, I started to, you know, just quietly touch myself,

and just when things were getting to the pint of no return, Sally pops her head round the door and finds me having an orgasm reading one of her books!”

This was introducing a whole new element to the proceedings and I could feel my cock beginning to harden but I restrained myself from doing anything as I had to know more. “So Sally  caught you having a  wank!  I’m not pretending I’m not interested, but how does  that relate to everything that happened tonight?”

“Well the thing is, when someone catches  you like that it does  tend to break down barriers, and the next she’s slipped into bed  beside me and wanting to know all about what I was reading. When you think about it,  it’s hard to stay embarrassed about being turned on  by the thought of being spanked with a girl who owns a whole shelf full off books with titles like Punishing Paula!  Anyway, we ended up having a long girly confessional about sex and our secret  fantasies, and towards the end she said  she would give a party where I could explore my darker side.”

She paused and looked me in the eye. “She said she would make  sure there was a certain dishy man there who she suspected might  just have the right inclinations ......” I was about to interrupt but she she put her fingers on my lips and  stopped me.  “And she said to make sure I was wearing the most tarty dress I owned, and that  should I be lucky enough that you took me home then  I should goad and tease you till you found yourself  with no choice but to teach me a lesson!”

So much to say I scarcely knew where  to start. After abandoning a handful of questions I managed to get one out. “So by the sounds of it this was your first ever spanking. Did it come up to your expectations?”

She took a while to answer, her mouth and hands  busy with so many other things, but eventually she spoke, her voice breathy. “It was  even better! It hurt way more than I could have imagined, but that was my fault for getting you in such a state. The fact that  you were punishing me for real rather than just playing  a game made it even more exciting. It was arousing enough when you first threw me over your knee, but when you pulled my knickers down and started  to spank my bare bottom I actually thought I was going to orgasm.

By now we were entwined like snakes, and fascinating though all this was other matters were taking precedence and a good half hour had passed before we got back to our conversation.

“So all this was planned you little  baggage! Right down to the last detail by the sound of it”

“Mmm!” She was snuggled into me again and I could scarcely make out her voice.

 “You know I shall have to punish you for that don’t you!”

“I was hoping you’d say that. I’m guessing you’re going to spank me lots more after this so  I think tomorrow I’m going to go and buy some clothes suitable for a naughty girl to be punished in.”

This sounded seriously interesting and we spent  a while talking about it, my cock technically interested  but too exhausted to sit up and listen properly. “But I’ve got another idea as well. When you think about it, my getting to you in such a state  was really all Sally’s fault. She’s the one with a real spanking  fetish and  it was all those  horny books of hers that gave me the whole idea. And just between us, I know she fancies you herself. I mean why don’t the two of us just turn up at her place tomorrow and challenge her with it and then you can say you simply have no choice but to give her a good spanking to get your own back? Knowing as much as we do about her I can’t see her fighting you off”

Beside me I could feel her warming to the idea. “I mean, maybe we could both spank her, you know, take it in turns?”

This was getting me more than interested but a bit of me saw an objection.  ”But it’s one thing her being spanked by me who according to you she fancies, quite another being spanked by you. I mean, as a normal heterosexual woman......”

“Ah, but I didn’t get   to finish!” Jane  let out a  little giggle beside me. “What I didn’t tell you was all the things that happened between us that morning when she climbed into bed with me.....”