What Do We Do Now? by LaurelAspen,LaurelAspen

Betty flew out to the European sales conference first thing on Monday, given recent personal events she was glad of a break. As arranged, she met her new co-worker – a recent hire – in the departure lounge. Who, after what had happened to her over the previous weekend, was equally pleased to be away from home.

“Hi, I’m Betty, bit of a baptism of fire your starting with such an important occasion in the company calendar.”

“Lola, pleased to meet you. Don’t worry it’s not my first big corporate shindig, I’m sure we’re going to work together very well.” The two have adjacent seats on the short flight and soon establish a rapport. They’ve much in common, both in their mid ’30s, working in middle management for a multinational and living in London. Lola is blonde and curvy, in contrast to Betty’s slender body and raven locks. Ensconced in conversation the duo decide to share a cab to the swanky venue by the beach.

“Formal dinner this evening, the main business starts tomorrow announces Betty, reading the itinerary.” What say we meet on the terrace for an aperitif in an hour?”

“Love to,” responds Lola. “I can’t turn down a drink on expenses.”

“Hi, over here,” Betty waves.

Lola walks stiffly across the sun terrace and gingerly takes a seat.

“This is the life, sunshine and sea, what would you like?” Betty is already looking relaxed.

“Vodka and lime please,” replies Lola, gratefully.

“Very retro,” Betty summons a waiter. “Judging by the way you’re walking I’d guess it was a rough weekend.”

“Certainly not what I expected,” concedes Lola ruefully.

“Alright, let’s see, could be horse riding – except you don’t look the equestrian type?”

“True.”

“Maybe you took up cycling, a different kind of saddle sore?”

“Nope.”

“Then I reckon things got a lot out of hand in the bedroom.”

“Correct.” Lola blushes, initially shy at discussing something so personal, but since this woman is so uninhibited she’s encouraged to talk. It’s the 1990s after all, people discuss sex frankly nowadays, no need to get embarrassed. Besides, Lola’s been brooding about the incident for the last 48 hours, it’ll be good to unburden.

“Trust me honey, it can’t be worse than what happened to me a couple of weeks back,” reveals Betty.

“Really?”

“Yup, but that’ll keep, let’s hear your tale of woe first. I’m surmising you and your significant other were indulging a little rough roleplay when things took an unwelcome turn?”

“Pretty close,” Lola lowers her voice, “started off as a bit of spanking fun, something we both enjoy.”

“I can easily be persuaded in that direction too,” Betty admits, “although I appreciate some warning beforehand.” Lola looks relieved, her newfound friend clearly understands. “Okay”, continues Betty, “set the scene, a night in, a little wine…”

“I’m glammed up, for me as much as him – a lot of guys don’t get that,” Lola takes up the tale. “Playing tease…” she pauses.

“No need to justify anything to me,” says Betty, “tell me, what does your man do for a living?”

“Merchant banker.”

Betty giggles. “Sorry, isn’t that rhyming slang?”

“For wanker?” Lola joins in. “I’m beginning to think so. Anyway, after some kissing and fooling around he pulls me over his knee. No problem, I love OTK, strong male hands, the closeness, a slow unveiling, feeling his excitement press into my leg. Skirt up, fanciest knickers down; spank, spank, spank – just the right the amount, not too sore but hot and pink. He holds me tightly around the waist and I pretend I can’t escape.”

“And…” Her companion prompts, looking on avidly.

“I’m suddenly lifted off his lap and laid on the sofa, legs spread wide. He takes off his jeans. Alright, missionary it is then – not too imaginative and kind of rushed, but I’m up for it, wet with anticipation in fact. He slips in easily, fucking me rather nicely as my stinging botty chafes on the cushions; squirming and writhing, orgasm coming nicely to the boil.” She allows a dramatic pause.

“I’m beginning to feel that way myself,” says Betty. “Come on, keep talking, I need to hear how this unfolds.”

“Then he pulls out.”

“What!”

“Yep, I’m left gaping, gasping and disappointed. There’s a not altogether pleasant glint in his eye. ‘Time we went darker,’ he says. News to me.”

“Darker?”

“Holds my wrists above my head with one hand – I’m thinking, yeah, that’s allowed, don’t mind submitting as long as you put your dick back in there pronto.” Lola can picture the moment vividly. “Seems the man can now read my mind. ‘That’ll happen when I want, not when you say, first you need some special discipline,’ he growls.”

“Uh, oh…” Betty looks worried.

“Too right,” Lola continues, “sharp slaps to my inner thighs, really painful. I struggle and worse yet, he spanks my pussy – probably only half a dozen times, but it hurts a lot, leaves livid red marks. I shriek, he stops and I’m blinking back humiliated tears. ‘Now to finish you off,’ says mister self-appointed Dom. I’m fervently hoping he’ll kiss my poor kitty better.”

“Does he?”

“No way; instead pushes his rampant hard-on forcefully up my sore snatch and fucks me roughly. Thing is, I’m hating and it and loving it at the same time. Contradictory emotions, mentally -head’s not happy, physically – body craves cock. Despite everything I come, then he ejaculates too and seems to think everything is alright.”

“And is it?”

“Really not sure at all, I’m feeling vulnerable, confused and mightily pissed off to be honest.”

“Had sex since?”

“No, nor talked about it and now thankfully I’m at this conference and have a bit of space to revaluate the relationship. You’re the only other person who knows,” confesses Lola.

“Thanks for sharing,” says Betty, and truly means it. “Must have taken a lot of courage to be so open, woman to woman – hope you feel a bit more cheerful for telling me?”

“I do. Right – I’ve gone on quite enough, you hinted about having a similar experience. Your turn to tell all.”

“Fair enough,” Betty seems more comfortable than Lola when it comes to discussing the intimate details of her sex life. “Well, for starters it seems eerie the way our respective guys apparently acted on a similar impulse. Where has this come from, I wonder?”

“Beyond me,” responds Lola.

“My unfortunate experience happened about a week ago,” Betty explains. “Me and my bloke were having a naughty night away at a posh hotel in town. We’re a bit more S&M orientated than you and yours; always fine up until now – like spanking it’s all about mutual trust and not straying beyond agreed limits. Hence, I’m kneeling on a lovely four poster bed while he whips my tushy with his belt. Nothing heavy, just warming me up for what I’m expecting will be a memorable seeing too from behind.

“My favourite,” observes Lola dreamily.

“Without warning I’m pushed forward. ‘Spread your cheeks,’ he orders. Oh, you bad boy, I think, but hey, why not? I pull apart my buttocks to expose my bottom cleft and he rims me; anal play is something else we’re into.”

“Not sure I even knew that was a thing.”

“Oh yeah, usually gets me off big time,” confirms Betty. “Then out of the blue he spanks my rosebud. Hard. Holy fuck! I yell in surprise and outrage. Rather than back off and apologise the sod lubes his cock, shoves it rudely in and fucks my arse.”

Leave a Comment