Achilles Last Stand: Amber’s Spank

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I sat at my computer with my trousers and pants down around my ankles with my erection in hand. Before me was a picture of a girl’s beautiful bottom, it had to be the sexiest ass I had ever seen, and such was its beauty; it had me up and hard and masturbating like fury.

I thought the days had gone where a mere image could get me erect hands-free, but this young girls ass was something else. It was exotically round with flawless skin as she has prostrated herself bottomless over her bed. Her shaved pussy peeked out between her legs invitingly, and I just longed to get in behind her and hump.

This unexpected ardour soon had me ejaculating my hot sticky seed, my sperm flying over my screen and keyboard like some white organic air display. She had taken me over, mesmerised me with her incredible asset and had me quickly debasing myself, rendering me drained and impudent.

I got my breath back and sighed as I regained my composure, and as I came down from my orgasmic high, I wiped the semen dribbling down my screen and dabbed at the solidifying lumps of ejaculate from the keyboard. When suddenly a flash shot across my chest. I reached for my heart-tablets and frantically ate a handful.

My pent up sexual emotions had passed as the last dribbles of semen leaked from my cock. I decided to find the name of the owner of such a sexy bottom and went to her profile. She had given herself a title right out of some video game, a pastime I knew nothing.

Her profile was heart-rendering as she confessed to being autistic and that she had trouble communicating with people. Her desire was to find a girl to settle with and love forever just as long as she spanked her regularly. Her final words were, “but I try.”

Those words and her exquisite bottom endeared me to her, and so I sent her a message.

I told her that spanking and confessing to gay love in my day was very taboo and that it was refreshing that a girl of such tender years could air her desires in such a forthright, outspoken way.

Her reply was open and friendly, and so I wrote to her again. She had other pictures of her naked body online, on showing her in profile on all fours, her ass in the air and her pert youthful breasts hanging down.

This very sexually alluring picture aroused me once more, but this time I was ready and able to keep my hands off my wantedness.

I went onto the next picture where again she was bent over, but this time there were handprints on her tender youthful ass. I wrote to her back and teased her by talking about her assets in-depth without being lewd.

She was only 19, and I was 60. I knew to prey upon young girls with promises of, ‘a good seeing too, multiple orgasms and sex so great that they would turn them ‘straight.’ were stupid, puerile and insulting. An older adult of 60 had nothing to offer a pretty young girl like this, and so I tried to keep my message light and amusing.

She replied in good humour and didn’t squirm one bit about my polite in-depth praising descriptions of her breasts, pussy and ass. She thanked me for not talking about my, ‘dick’ as other men who contacted her always did.

I left her alone as there was only so much an older man and a young girl could talk. Two weeks later I was surprised to get a message from her saying, “Don’t you want to talk to me any more? :\ “I was so surprised as she was such a pretty girl. Why did she want to know a crusty old tortoise-like me?

Her message was touching affectionate and poignant, really pulling at my heartstrings. I could have asked personal sexual questions as she came across as being so vulnerable. Instead, I told her that she was a girl on a sex web site and was gold dust, a queen bee and that boys outnumbered girls one hundred to one. I should be the one begging her to talk to me.

We soon moved onto our next phase talking about writing, and she offered up many stories that she was working on all with a Star Wars theme. I helped her with them and tried to watch some of the newer films but struggled to get through them.

By now, I was feeling confidant enough to ask her what her real name was, and she told me without hesitation. Her name was ‘Amber.’

She mentioned anime, and I told her about when I first came across such drawings pre-internet. Manga cartoons were the first pictures I searched for when I did eventually get the internet, and I was quite surprised to see that they were mostly pornographic. A girl at a film school wore an anime T-shirt, and I searched the pictures on her small breasted chest quizically looking for some sexual goings-on. She saw me scanning her chest, and I quickly had to confess to being a fan of Manga. She completely bypassed the illusion of anything sexual and admitted to loving the colours.

Amber found this very amusing and asked if I could post her the pictures I had collected from those past years. I did so with some trepidation, as most of them had a sexual theme.

Amber soon confessed many secrets of her kinky ways, which included the fact that she was strictly a girls, girl – a lesbian who was yet maltepe escort to come out to her family. She was also a virgin, which humbled me as in my day nobody freely confessed to the stigma of inexperience. Being gay and autistic was quite a handicap, and I wished her well in her search for a girl to love. I tried to suggest many ways how she could meet a girl of her sexual preference.

Her love of spanking became very obvious as I was privileged to see all the girls she lusted after online. They were young girls around 20 naked and bent over displaying their wanton asses for a young girl’s hungry mouth or stinging hand. The penny now dropped concerning her pictures. They were all adopting the position of someone who wanted to be spanked, and through the months, I could tell by her writing that she was really yearning for a spanking with a driven passion. She confessed to me that she self spanked and was caught bare-assed over the arm of her sofa, slapping away at herself when her brother entered the room.

Being a male and an old one at that, I dared not to insult her by suggesting that I took her spanking virginity.

In my youth, I had spanked many a girl’s bare bottoms, but it was hard work. There was no Internet, and so I had to advertise in Forum magazine, a pen friend publication and even a cottage industry periodical called Axis.

I told her of the many experiences I had spanking girls and how hard it was to get a girl who replied to my advert to go bare-assed over my lap.

Not one surrendered meekly as they were all understandably nervous and who could blame them? They would sometimes travel great distances to go into a strange house and surrender bottomless to a painful kink administered by someone they only knew through the written word and telephone.

Every girl I had spanked had written at least three longish letters trying to appease their worries, and I religiously wrote back trying to calm their nerves and even chatted to them a long time over the phone.

Only then would some make an appointment, and then the vast majority wouldn’t turn up for their first appointment.

About half of those would apologise and re-schedule another appointment, and it was only then I felt sure I would have a blushing young girl over my lap for an hour allowing me to tenderise her ass.

Their biggest fear was being attacked and screwed so my solemn most significant promise was that they would not be interfered with in any way unless they reconsidered.

It was a difficult promise to keep, as I would always be mightily erect, and they would be well aware of my engorged cock as they lay across my lap, something that was sure to alarm them as I whipped their panties down.

Any man would be excited with a beautiful ass on their lap. I tried to win their trust by underlining my vow that they would not be harmed in any way except for the sting of my hand, paddle, and cane.

A few girls were turned on so much by their spanking that they became ravenous for full sex. I was sure many more were moist and wanton for things to go further but never did. Spanking was quite taboo in those days, a perversion rather than fun foreplay leading up to sex. It was heavily frowned upon in some quarters even though spanking exploits littered our sexual history. Even London west end porn shops had copies of, “Janus’ on display in some corner of the shop. Only ‘Forum magazine,” then called an alternative sex publication, soon to become a safe sex magazine with the arrival of AIDs and HIV managed to get on the top shelf.

It didn’t figure then that a spanking; especially amongst strangers lead to full sex. I didn’t know what couples who spanked thought, as they were conspicuous by their absence in any mainstream pornographic magazine. It was a shadowy pastime, which was a pity because once experienced all the girls I spanked saw it for the fun time it was.

I told Amber of my spanking experiences, which I was sure she enjoyed as she remarked upon so many.

She told me herself, her biggest fear would be ‘being poked’ as she put it, and as a young girl, I could very much understand that.

I told her of one such girl called Barbra who I had sent many letters trying to calm her nerves, a girl who had cancelled three times and I had given up on eventually. Still, she ended up over my lap but had to make a phone call every so often to a friend concerned about her safety. In the end, I ended up spanking her while she was on the phone explaining through gritted teeth that she was having a lovvellleee time!

She was adorable and exciting, and I was rampant for sex with her, but I remained true to my word and didn’t try to lay her. As soon as she was out of the door though I rushed upstairs lowered my trousers and masturbated furiously almost cumming instantly from the excitement. As soon as I cum, my front doorbell rang. I answered it, and it was Barbara wanting sex, she had changed her mind.

When a girl did turn up for a spanking, I was always nervous and became tongue-tied, maslak escort making an awkward situation even more stressful. I decided to stop this by writing out a questionnaire for the girls to answer upon arrival. This would make sure I was never short of a thing to say and would stop those painful silences occurring.

The act of writing out the questionnaire was a blessing, and in the end, it was never needed. It served as a mental crutch always there if needed, and I was sure it gave me the confidence to talk as freely as I did.

I offered Amber the questionnaire, to see how she would have got on, hypothetically, and she was happy to answer it. I dug it out and read it, thinking a shy girl like her could easily give short yes or no answers and so I edited it a little to get her to talk and open up.

In the meantime, she surprisingly became impatient and asked, “Where is that questionnaire?”

I was delighted with her impatience as Amber rarely asked me any questions preferring just to answer them passively.

I sent the questionnaire, and to my surprise, she answered it to the full, exposing all her desires and fears about being spanked.

She opened up, and for the first time, I saw there was a possibility of giving her a good spanking.

I asked her all sorts of questions about her answers and even wondered about her clothing.

“I’ll dress in my school uniform if you want me too?” she hinted heavily.

Her outward shamelessness had me on the back foot, and I had to ask,

“I’ll be in your town next week, would you like me to get a room so I can spank you?”

I boldly asked not thinking for one minute that she’d say yes.

The following week I sat at a table waiting for Amber to turn up for her spanking. I sat at the table nervously twitching my thumbs. I was going to be nervous, and so was Amber. I was the elder of the two, and the onus was on me to stop things stagnating. I had written a list of conversation points just in case our meeting went into a verbal cul-de-sac. It was a tried and tested tactic I had used in the past, and usually, it’s confidence-boosting back up gave me the composure to go on smoothly without reference.

I saw a petite girl with long brunette hair enter the restaurant. It was her; it had to be. She was wearing jeans and a black sweatshirt and a leather jacket, a jacket I was sure I had seen in one of her profile pics. I leant back and forced a smile as she walked towards me with no sign of acknowledgement. She was far prettier in the flesh, something I had become used to when girls visited me for a spanking. I stood up, pushing the chair back, “Amber!” I brightly greeted, opening my arms and hugging her tightly.

“Great to see you, how are you feeling?”

“Okay,” she flatly said.

I rounded her and pulled her a seat out for her to sit on.

“Thank you,” she deadpanned again.

I sat down and looked her at her blood-drained face.

“Don’t worry; I’m just as nervous, everyone is on a blind date, especially this type,” I laughed lightly.

“Can I get you a drink?”

“No, thanks.”

“Go on, just a soft drink?”

“Okay, I’ll have a Coke, please.”

I looked around for the waitress and immediately caught her eye. I raised my arm, and she quickly pushed off the bar towards me.

“I’ll have a lime and soda water and a Coke for my daughter,” I joked, “Is that a diet Coke or a fatty Coke?” I weakly joked.

A small crack of a smile appeared across Amber’s bowed face, which I took as an accomplishment.

“Do you want ice and lemon with the coke?” the waitress dispensed.


“Yes please,” she replied with a low voice and a slight upturn of the head towards the waitress.

“You look very pretty,” I praised trying to calm her racing nerves.

“Thank you,” she replied deadpan.

“This is strange isn’t it, we know so much about our deep secret kinks and yet so little of our ordinary selves,” I ventured to try to segue into the reason we were here succinctly.

It was too early; Amber immediately looked out the window, her cheeks reddening slightly.

The drinks arrived, “One Coke,” she announced as she plonked the drink down in front of Amber, “and one ice and Lemon.’

“Thank you,” Amber whispered.

“Place the bill to my room please,” I said as the waitress departed.

I lifted my glass to make a toast. Amber viewed my glass suspiciously and then caught on. She raised her glass, and I chinked into it.

“Here’s too fun times,” I toasted. Amber chinked my glass but said nothing.

“Don’t worry Amber, nothing harmful is going to happen.” I soothed.

She sipped nervously from her glass, her eyes peering out of the window as if planning an escape. I recalled my first spanking, waiting for the mistress to pick me up in her car and thinking the same thing.

“You can call it off if you want to, I’ll understand,” I said, trying to give her a choice to make her feel free to do as she wished.

Her eyes öecidiyeköy escort widened, and for a moment, I thought she was going to take me up on my offer. “No, I’ve come this far,” she whispered.

“I was just as nervous on my first spanking,” I announced clearly.

“Sssh!” Amber rebuked with a worried look on her face.

“Sorry, was I a little too loud then?”

Amber smiled and nodded.

“Sorry old ears,” I whispered.

We had crossed a hurdle, and we both smiled knowingly.

“Do you know where the toilets are?” She asked.

I turned and pointed to the corner, and she rose from her seat.

“I was a little nervous on the way here,” she said with a smile.

“You were what?”

“‘Nervous, you know?”

She pointed to her bottom, and I instantly twigged. I smiled in relief as it meant she was going to go through with it. She walked away, and I stared at her bottom tightly encased in jeans.

“Oh wow! soon that sweet ass will be over my lap for my spanking pleasure,” I thought as I watched her walk away, my eyes taking an ass cheek each.

I watch as Amber walk away towards the toilet, and I can’t help but stare at her ass as she walks away. It was beautifully rounded and filled her jeans perfectly. I gorged myself on her posterior wondering if her ass cheeks were on ball bearings. She opened the door and disappeared. A blinding flash of light zips across my eyes momentarily blinding me. A wizened man with fuzzy white hair and a moustache smoking a pipe sits uninvited at our table.

“Hello,” he says with a slightly Germanic tinge to his voice.


“Are you with that young girl?” he asked momentarily, pointing towards the toilet door with his pipe.

“Yes,” I answer proudly as the old man rustles around in his old tweed jacket.

“She is charming, do you intend to have some fun with her when you get her back to your room?”

The question took me aback a moment, and I gathered my thoughts before I said,” What s that to do with you?”

“No need to be aggressive my friend, it’s just that she’s very young for you, but that doesn’t matter.”

“Why are you selling eternal youth?” I joked.

“No, no, no!” smiles the old man almost choking on his pipe as he laughs.

“There’s no need we all have eternal youth for free.”

“Free?” I quiz.

Let me introduce myself. My name is Einstein,” he declared, holding out a hand to shake.

I looked at him baffled, how does he know I have a room? This nut was claiming to be Einstein. I ruminate on a witty riposte.

“Fuck off!’

“No, it’s true and lucky for you one of my proven theories is that ‘time is a curve’ No one can say where you are on that cycle before or in front of your young friend in the ring of the cosmos.

“Ha! That’s easy for you to say, but I live in the real world. Not in a one of theory.”

“And so you should,” came a voice from my left. I look around to see an older adult dressed in a white suit, “Live in a world of sensation, not theory!”

I looked on puzzled, “and you are?”

“This is Doctor Gustave Jung, my friend,” said Einstein, “An analyst of the immeasurable,” he sarcastically scoffed, smiling between a puff on his pipe.

“Spank her well,” said Jung ignoring Einstein’s slight, “She will find it very therapeutic, unlike Alberts bombs.”

“You cured a handful of patients with this spanking theory, and one of those was a lover,” argued Einstein.

“They all went on to have pleasurable lives unlike your corpses,” Jung attacked back.

“How do you know I intend to spank her?” I asked Jung puzzled why he knew so much.

Jung and Einstein look at each other mystified. “You’ll see,” said Einstein after a long pause.

“Does Amber have reoccurring dreams of being spanked by her father?” asked Jung.

“Yes, and in front of an audience,” I enthusiastically told.

“And you are older than her, that makes sense.”

“That’s all pie in the sky Jung, let them enjoy themselves.”

“Have either of you been psychoanalysed?” Quizzed Jung.

“Don’t fall for his bunk! Just enjoy yourself. Live in your world of fun and to hell with everything. A world of money, enjoy your evening and have a nice sexy night, “he says as he bids me, Farwell. “Have a wonderful day in your one-way world.”

And with that, he was off.

My attention was taken by Amber coming back through the door. I turned to look at her and blinked as she had changed into a schoolgirl uniform. She had put on a short Plaid skirt, a white blouse with its buttons undone to show ample cleavage and her tie lowly tied around her neck. She wore white stockings and every time the hem of her pleated dress swayed it showed off her stocking tops. She was also taller as she was wearing high heels. She twirled at her chair, and her skirt spun around, flashing her white garter belt panties and stockings. A flash of light caused me to blink again, and there was Amber in her jeans t-shirt and jacket.

“Are you okay?” she softly asked.

“Yes, yes, my eyes are playing tricks, sorry.”

She sat down, and I tried to calm her, as she still looked a bit tense. Who could blame her? I was just the same when I submitted to a mistress for the first time. She was just a girl with an unquenchable thirst to be spanked, and by a quirk of fate, it had befallen on me to satisfy or even douse that flame.

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