I Want You To...

It’s not every day that you find your mother’s best friend lying on her bed wearing nothing but a black corset, stockings and a cute smile

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“I want you to spank me.”

“What?”

“Spank me. Then I’ll be really naughty.”

“You… what… I…” His brain did not seem to be functioning, at least the part that was connected to his vocal cords seemed to generating a little rotating circle whilst it processed the information. The part connected to his dick was definitely still working.

But then it’s not every day that you find your mother’s best friend lying on her bed wearing nothing but a black corset, stockings and a cute smile. Actually, it had not happened to him any day for the past nineteen years.

Part of him wanted to run, hide, he had only come over to mow the lawn, tidy the garden, earn a little money before he headed off to college and into the wider world. Sweating, his tasks completed, had stepped into the house expecting lemonade and polite small talk; maybe a quick ogle of her tight ass and great tits if she was wearing something tight. Instead, he had followed her voice until he had frozen, mute, like a Greek statue in the bedroom doorway.

It was hot, he could feel the sweat running down his chest, little rivulets soaking into his T-shirt. Was it her? Was she giving off heat? When his friends had called her a hotwife was that what they meant, that physically she radiated heat?