A Gentleman’s Pleasure

First of two parts, from New Blushes 2.13. Amanda's little red knickers in the garden are reminiscent of young Katie in the greenhouse.

Derek Simmonds glanced across the breakfast table at his wife and grimaced. Not that Amanda was an unpleasant sight — quite the reverse. She was as usual looking stunning even though she was not yet dressed and was still in her pale blue dressing gown. Her mass of ash-blonde hair was still damp from the shower, and her lovely features had that freshly-washed look, unadorned by any make-up. Big blue eyes and soft, full-lipped mouth. She looked almost like an innocent, virginal teenager.

Amanda gave him a sweet smile back. ‘Smile, darling.’

But he didn’t feel like smiling. Amanda, at 21 and two years younger than himself, wasn’t far out of her teens of course. But she wasn’t innocent. They had been married a year now. And she had been seeing that Mr Granley for about two months.

James Granley was sixtyish and retired and lived on the outskirts of town in a big house that would cost five times the price of Derek and Amanda’s own little starter house. And probably Mr Granley didn’t have a mortgage either. Derek and Amanda did of course, and found it difficult to make ends meet on Derek’s meagre salary at the bank plus Amanda’s part-time typing job. But then she had found Mr Granley.

She went round there twice a week to do domestic jobs for which he paid very generously. But of course it wasn’t just for doing those jobs. There was the rest. What rest? Did Mr Granley screw her? Derek wasn’t sure he wanted to know all the details. He had agreed to it, more or less. And sometimes it was a bit of a turn-on, thinking about it. Thinking about what Mr James Granley might be doing to Amanda. Imagining it.

Derek wasn’t sure about the screwing but he knew Mr Granley spanked her. Amanda had told him. ‘If you really want to know, darling.’ Did he want to know? Amanda over Mr Granley’s lap, with her skirt pulled up and her knickers down. Amanda’s ripe and shapely bottom. Bare. Squirming voluptuously as it was spanked by this older man. For some imaginary shortcoming in her work. Sometimes it was a turn-on imagining it. Not always though. Not right now, this morning. In ten minutes he was going to have to leave for the bank. Knowing that half an hour later Amanda would be going round to Mr Granley.

Sensing what was in Derek’s head. Amanda said in a hurt little voice. ‘Don’t imagine that I enjoy it I mean I’m not a tart, I’m a respectable married woman.’

Fluttering the lashes of those big blue eyes. Was she feeling hurt, humiliated, at what she had to accept on these Tuesday and Thursday visits?

It wasn’t exactly that. But Amanda was feeling a bit different than usual this morning. She had come to accept what Mr Granley wanted. Maybe it was humiliating. Awful. But he paid very well for it, and both she and Derek were very glad of the money. But this morning was different.

For one thing it wasn’t Mr Granley she was seeing. It was someone else. A friend of Mr Granley. His name was Mr Robson.

----//----

She found Mr Robson’s place without any trouble although she hadn’t been there before. A street of impressive looking houses set back from the road, not dissimilar to Mr Granley’s. Mr Robson’s was Number 22. Amanda nervously opened the gate. She was wearing a light knee-length summer coat. Below it were her bare legs and black strap-over shoes with white ankle socks. It was a hot June morning and she didn’t really need the coat but Amanda had put it on to counter the effect of the little-girl socks and shoes which Mr Robson had requested.

She walked up to the house and then followed the path round the side. She had phoned half an hour earlier, to check, and he had said he would be out in the garden at the back and to go round.

And there he was, in a garden chair on the terrace reading a newspaper. Mr Robson was the same sort of gent as Mr Granley. Retired presumably and well-heeled enough to be able to pay for his little pleasures. The same sort of pleasures as Mr Granley? Amanda presumed so. She had met him at Mr Granley’s of course. A week ago. She had been wearing the little-girl socks and shoes then, when she brought the tea things in for Mr Granley and his guest. The socks and shoes and not much else. Just a blouse and a little apron. No skirt. No knickers. Her bottom bare.

It had been highly embarrassing of course. having to meet a complete stranger like that, but Mr Granley had insisted. No doubt it had been a turn-on for him, making her show herself like that to his friend.

Mr Robson had been very struck. Perhaps not surprisingly. By Amanda’s lovely bare bottom, inevitably swaying and jiggling as she came in with the tea tray and then having to bend over the low coffee table.

Mr Granley had proceeded to proprietorially stroke her quivering bare rear…

Anyway it had been suggested that she might visit Mr Robson too. And well, she could certainly use the extra money. Would she tell Derek about this extra involvement — and extra income? Presumably she would. But she hadn’t as yet.

Stanley Robson was getting up from his garden chair with words of greeting. Then telling her to take off the coat. ‘It’s much too hot for coats…’

Did he think she had nothing underneath? Just the blouse and apron, as she had been at Mr Granley’s? It made Amanda hot-faced to recall that embarrassing introduction. And when she had agreed she might come and visit Mr Robson there had been a suggestion that she might like to come like that. But he hadn’t really been expecting it, had he? In fact Amanda was wearing a loose T-top and a very abbreviated tunic skirt. And under the brief skirt…

Stanley flipped it up at the back. She had on a pair of tight and very brief red bikini knickers. These in fact had been bought for her by Mr Granley and it had been his suggestion that she should wear them on her first visit to his friend. If she wasn’t intending to go bare bottomed.

Stanley held the little skirt aloft with his left hand while his eyes, rather greedily it must be said, took in Amanda’s shapely ripe bottom which was only partially contained in the tight little pants. Had he been expecting her to come bare bottomed? Not really. She was a respectable young married woman, or so James Granley had informed him. And therefore would not wish to walk through the town wearing no knickers, even if she did have a coat on. However… the knickers could come off…

He lightly pinched taut bottom-flesh through the knickers. Amanda gave a nervous laugh and slid away.

‘I thought you never wore knickers, my dear. Didn’t my friend James Granley tell me that?’

Amanda made a face, feeling herself flushing, ‘Oh that was so awful of Mr Granley. I mean it was so embarrassing. Making me… you know…’

‘So you do wear them sometimes?’

‘Always! Well except…’

‘When Mr Granley makes you take them off.’

Stanley’s hand darted out and this time slid up the front of Amanda’s little skirt. The hand made a beeline for her pussy, cupping it. She yelped and squirmed away again.

Stanley Robson grinned. ‘I shall no doubt want your knickers off too. Does Mr Granley give you the cane, Amanda?’

‘No!’ She felt herself trembling. At the feel of his hand suddenly at her pussy — and at the thought of the cane. Mr Granley had spoken of caning her. More than once. Threatening her with it, but in a sort of jokey way. She had never thought he was serious. He just liked spanking her bottom. Getting her over his lap with her knickers down, or with them off completely. Then spanking her bare bum. Sometimes quite hard so that it really stung. Sometimes not so hard and those times he would usually play with her as well. Play with her pussy. Getting her going. She really liked it, although she pretended not to. His fingers in her wet pussy, especially after she had been aroused by his hand smacking her bum not too hard. His fingers getting her pussy hot.

Yes the business with Mr Granley was frequently a turn-on. But not the cane!

‘Ah well. It’ll be a new experience then. Because I’m rather keen on caning pretty girls. It’s good for them. A little bit of proper discipline is good for any young woman.’

He came in close, grabbing Amanda’s bare upper arms. And then his two hands taking hold of her tits.

‘Does your husband give you anything? A smacked bum. Or the cane of course?’

She shuddered. The hands were still clutching her tits but she wasn’t struggling away. Because, well, Mr Robson might just say he was going to get his cane out that he was talking about. Was he serious? She stuttered out but no. Derek didn’t do anything. Nothing of that…

Mr Robson let go of her. Going back to sit on his chair.

‘So I shall be doing him a service. Giving you a bit of discipline I mean. Anyway shall we start some jobs, Amanda dear? Earn your keep. You can make me a cup of coffee later but first of all how about some mowing. Can you do that? Give the grass a trim?’

He was indicating the lawn mower over to the side of the terrace. She said yes, OK. Though she had never really used a mower. Derek cut their own little patch with a small electric one. But this didn’t seem to have any cable. It must be petrol. She certainly didn’t know anything about a petrol mower.

She turned back to Mr Robson. And saw he had a cane in his hand! It must have been behind his chair. Amanda felt her knees go all rubbery. He was serious about this bloody cane.

She stuttered out that she didn’t think she knew how to operate the mower.

Stanley gave a wristy little twitch of the cane. ‘Would this help, I wonder?’

Amanda shook her head, trying to keep calm.

‘Oh it usually does. It concentrates the mind wonderfully. And I tell you what… as it’s a hot day… and so you’re nice and ready…’

He was holding something out in his other hand.

‘Pin your skirt up at the back. Pin the hem up as high as it’ll go.’

She saw now he was holding two clothes pegs. Amanda bit her lip. Thinking of the display of her brief red knickers. But, well, what had she been expecting? And Mr Robson’s garden was very secluded here at the back so no one else was going to see her. Pinning her skirt up and showing her knickers and her bum, it wasn’t really so bad. Maybe if she was nice and co-operative on that… he would forget about the cane…?

Thinking this rather positive thought Amanda took the pegs, then reached behind her. Stanley watched as her skimpy knickers were revealed once more. Her ripe bottom in the skin-tight red nylon. The cane seemed to twitch in his hand, as if it couldn’t wait to apply itself to this tempting target He did feel that strong urge, but for the moment contented himself with a prod at the pneumatic flesh with the point of the cane.

Amanda gave a little yelp. She had the pegs in place, pinning the little skirt up high both in front and back. The little red knickers were fully on view. Stretched tight over the twin ripe bulges of her bottom… and in front over the bulge of her pussy mound. She was conscious of being on display, an object for Mr Robson’s enjoyment and pleasure. Very similar to when Mr Granley made her wear just a blouse and tiny apron of course. That had been very unnerving too, especially at first, though once she had made herself do it a few times it had become a bit of a turn-on.

Stanley told her to turn round, to face him. He eyed the ripe bulge of her pussy. With a little laugh he brought the cane out again and fucked it in at the tops of Amanda’s thighs. The end of the bamboo lightly touched the lips of her pussy.

‘Get a lot of action here I suppose. Mmmmm?’

Flushing she made to push the stick away.

‘Maybe you’d rather have it across your bottom?’ Stanley asked mildly. She shook her head. ‘Well then…’

Hot-faced, Amanda reluctantly removed her hand. The point of the bamboo came back. This time it slid into the narrow little space at the tops of her thighs. She looked away. The cane slid right in… and out… and in again… rather like a violinist’s bow.

Amanda’s knees began to tremble. As the cane rubbed back and forth along the lips of her cunt.

‘Like that, do you?’

She made a face. She could feel she had become distinctly moist from the insidious massage of the cane.

‘I… uh… it’s awfully… disconcerting…’

‘And arousing?’

The cane slid in and out again.

Amanda squirmed. ‘I… I suppose so…’

Stanley withdrew his titillating stick. ‘Maybe I should put it across your bottom? To cool you down.’

‘No! No please! That’s really not necessary…’

‘Have a look at the mower then. Can you get it started?’

Amanda was sure she couldn’t but was reluctant to say so. He might decide it was another excuse to use the cane. Perhaps she could play for time. At least he had stopped rubbing it along her cunt in that devilish manner.

She bent down over the mower. Her skirt was still pinned up on her shoulders and the position unavoidably put the ripe curves of Amanda’s bottom on display.

The cane came out again, this time tapping her flank.

‘Turn a bit,’ Stanley instructed. ‘Your bum. I want it properly facing me. I mean it’s such a nice one, isn’t it?’

Amanda reluctantly shifted round. The cane prodded her flesh. And then slid in under the split between the cheeks. That cane was right back where it had been before, only this time from the rear.

She gave a shuddery moan as the cane began sliding in and out along her now aroused slit.

‘Got things sorted out?’ Stanley asked.

‘No! I… uh… ohhh…!’

‘See if it’s got any petrol in it.’

‘Oh!’ The cane was still sawing in and out. Where was the bloody petrol cap?

‘Do you really know what you’re doing, young lady?’

‘No… oooo…’ she reluctantly admitted.

‘Well I know what.’ Stanley rubbed the cane more firmly between Amanda’s legs. ‘Let’s have your knickers down. Having her knickers down can frequently concentrate a girl’s mind.’

She tried to protest. The response was for the cane to come out from between Amanda’s legs and whip sharply in across her bottom.

She yelped. ‘Christ!’

‘Come on then! Take them down, and then stand up nice and straight. With your hands on your head.’

Oh Jesus! He was going to cane her. With her knickers down! But if she started arguing… he would cane her anyway…

Standing up now, Amanda slid the knickers down off her bottom. She had her back — and her bottom — to Mr Robson. She could feel her bottom trembling…

‘Now hands on head.’ The cane patted her bare bum.

‘Pl… please…’ Her hands were on her head. Her legs trembling but straight ‘I don’t want that bloody cane. A… Anything else.’

Another pat across her bum. A bit harder.

‘Anything else?’

‘We… well… I don’t mind being spanked. Not all that much anyway.’

‘But sometimes we need something we don’t like, Amanda. It’s good for us. I think you need a couple of nice wristy ones with the cane. Even if only to know what it feels like.’

‘No!! Please!’

‘If you argue it could be more. So why not be sensible. Stand still…’

THWATTT…!

Jesus Christ! He had whipped it in across the full meat of her bottom. She gasped, struggling with the fierce stinging pain.

Stanley Robson’s calm voice: There you are. Not too bad, eh?’

THWATTT…!!!

‘And there’s another.’

She was having difficulty coping. Gulping for breath. Her bottom clenching and writhing in an attempt to come to terms with what felt like the attack of a thousand hornets on her rear.

Stanley eyed the two bright red stripes, darkening and intensifying in colour. One more for luck?

‘And one more for luck…’

THWATTT…!!

----//----

Did you enjoy that? Stanley asked.

They were inside now. In the kitchen Amanda had her knickers back up but her skirt was still pegged up to her shoulders. After that third stroke Stanley had said he thought a cup of coffee was in order. He had forgotten about the lawn mower, for the moment at least.

Amanda, tight-lipped, shook her head. There was still that hot pain in her bottom, though maybe not quite so intense now. She just hadn’t thought of the cane when she had come this morning. If she had had any idea, well, she wouldn’t have agreed to come. That bloody thing, it could do you a real injury. The pain of it had brought tears to her eyes — and the tears weren’t far away now.

‘Try jumping up and down a bit, if you bum’s still stinging,’ Stanley advised. ‘Getting the blood moving can ease it.’

Amanda decided against this humiliating and rather desperate response. She gritted her teeth. There were some strong things she would like to say to Mr Robson. She wasn’t going to say them though. He might just decide to get that bloody cane out again.

‘No?’ He reached behind Amanda and squeezed her tender bottom. ‘OK. Well you can make us a nice cup of coffee. And then, perhaps we’ll go upstairs.’

He gave her bottom another squeeze and then marched out, saying he would be in the sitting room and she could bring the coffee in there.

Amanda looked around. Looking for the coffee things but in a distracted manner because she was thinking about the other thing he had said. ‘Perhaps we’ll go upstairs’ What did that mean?

What it could well mean was that he wanted to fuck her. That was something which had been in Amanda’s head ever since Mr Granley had suggested she could come to Stanley Robson. The possibility that he would want to fuck her. That thought, yes, but no thought of the cane. Because Mr Granley fucked her. Amanda hadn’t told Derek of course, in fact she had specifically told him that Mr Granley didn’t. It was a little white lie because he did. Not every time she went to him but when he felt like it. When Mr Granley was in the mood. Perhaps once a week. Whereas of course he always seemed in the mood for spanking her bottom, and messing about. Wanking her off with his hand in other words.

So did Mr Robson want to fuck her? Amanda’s thought about it had been to coyly refuse, if he said he wanted to. For this first time at least. Well, she didn’t want to seem like a tart and in Amanda’s opinion only a tarty girl would do it the first time she was asked, especially when she was married. But after that, maybe she would. Especially if Mr Robson was at all pressing about it. She didn’t mind doing it with Mr Granley, in fact she quite liked it. He did it in a more relaxed way, and was not so desperate as younger men usually were when they wanted it. Including her own husband Derek of course. Yes more relaxed and at the same time able to keep going for longer. Which was very welcome, once a girl was aroused and enjoying it.

So that had been Amanda’s thought on the question of possibly fucking Mr Robson. But it had been before he had produced that cane. The cane naturally was another item in the equation. A very major item. And if it came to either letting Mr Robson fuck her, even though it was her first time here, or the cane — well, there was only one answer to that. Wasn’t there?

----//----

Yes but…

Up in the bedroom.

It wasn’t fucking that Mr Robson wanted.

It was more of that bloody cane!

‘I think another little dose,’ he said. ‘Now that that pretty bum has absorbed those first two. Another little dose now will be just the ticket.’

And he meant it He really meant it. Even though she pleaded and made it pretty clear that fucking would be a very acceptable alternative. But Stanley Robson wasn’t interested. Or at least he wasn’t that interested right now. He fondled her pussy and indicated that he might well be interested later. But first of all he wanted her up on the bed for the cane.

He wanted her kneeling on the bed. For maybe two across her knickers, he said

‘And then a few more with the knickers down, Amanda.’

Amanda gave a panicky squeal, wildly shaking her head. And then another yelping squeal erupted, as Stanley whipped the cane in across her leg.

‘Come on. You may find you quite enjoy it. When you get used to it. Quite a few girls do.’