This short story is an entry in the 2001 Soc.Sexuality.Spanking Summer Short Story Contest and is copyright by the author and commercial use is prohibited without permission. Personal/private copies are permitted only if complete including the copyright notice. The author would appreciate your comments
Category: First
Lounging About
By
Barrister <Barrister@Assville.com>
Most people hate airport lounges; I find them bursting with possibility. For example, here I am in the Air France lounge in Montréal waiting for my flight to Paris and hoping to get this report finished before we have to board. I don't think it's going to happen, though, because my eyes, as they roam around the lounge, are feeding my imagination rich grist for its fantasy mill.
Look, over there, that family of four. Father looking harried, mother looking edgy, ten-year old son looking for trouble and the fourteen-year old daughter looking.... well, she's looking pouty and eager, blasé and excited, sultry and innocent, all at the same time, as only a young teen can. Part of her hopes to find a French petit ami, un mec, a boyfriend, just like the ones that graced the pages of her freshman French text, and sneak a little illicit amour with him when her parents aren't looking. Part of her hates the idea of going anywhere with her family. She has a Lolita look about her that has half the men in the lounge trying to sneak a peek up her short dress. Me, I'd like to give her what she so clearly needs - a bare-bottomed spanking on that pert little rump, while across my lap, until she cries like the little girl she still is.
On the other side of the lounge is a stunningly-dressed French woman right out of the pages of the real Elle magazine. I can picture her walking her poodle down the Champs Elysée, leaving men stiff in every café along the way. She has that look about her that says, "Go ahead and try. I'll only break your heart." The man sitting with her, though, may just have tamed her. He's as handsome as she's beautiful, but he has cruel eyes. I can just see those eyes staring at her while she's tied naked to a four-poster bed, her bottom thrust upwards by a thick bolster and criss-crossed with angry red welts. He's knelling between her widely-spread legs, ready to take her rudely from behind. Her scent and her shame fill the room.
Seated across from me is a severely gorgeous woman dressed in a manly-looking business suit, her hair closely-cropped, nyloned-legs crossed so as to reveal her black garters. I have no way of knowing, but I'm sure she isn't wearing panties. My stomach knots as she catches me staring at her. As her expression changes, my scrotum clenches and my penis stiffens. She knows! She knows what I'm thinking, that I'd give anything to be naked at her feet, my hands manacled behind my back, my bottom raw from her lashes and my cock throbbing with need. But, before my fire is slaked, I must first pay homage to her womanhood with my tongue.
As the boarding call goes out for first class and I rise to get in line, I see her also rise. I am bursting with possibility.
The End
© This story is copyrighted Summer, 2001by Barrister (barrister9@aolnospam.com) and is not to be reproduced or archived in print or electronic format, except for one copy for personal use only, without the express written consent of the author. Without restricting the generality of the foregoing, the following is expressly forbidden without the author's express permission: archiving on any pay or free access WWW or FTP site; posting to any USENET group; retransmission to any listserv or other mailing list; retransmission to more than one other individual via e-mail; giving or making available in any manner whatsoever in print to more than one other individual.
If you have any doubts about any use you wish to make of this story, please contact the author by e-mail. I apologize for having to be so legalistic about this, but past events have shown the need to be crystal clear about what can and can't be done with an author's work.
Reviews
Naomi Darvell <naomi_darvell(at)hotmail(dot)com>
Barrister concocts a lovely scene with fantasies in layers, building from the least probable to the just possible. Wish air travel could always be this sexy-- I wouldn't even mind the delays. Nice, nice job.
Haron <aster(at)mail(dot)i(dot)com(dot)ua>
Barrister demonstrates us what it is like to look at the world with a spanko's eyes. I'm sure many people can sympathise with seeing spanking references everywhere, be it airport lounge or a roadside cafe, bank or camping site. The language is rich and descriptive, making it easy to sympathise with a character and remember our own experiences with airports. We can only hope the protagonist's possibilities become his reality, and then envy and hope for another report from him.