#272) Mistress

#272) Mistress

We all know the truism, “Happy wife, happy life.” But what about the mistress?
Jerry had taken-up with a friend of the girl who babysat his little girl. His babysitter was named Rachel, her friend was a cute blond named Tiff, or Tiffany.
About a month ago, Tiff came to Jerry’s house just after he’d gotten home from work. It seems that she and Rachel had plans to go get something to eat together for dinner. Jerry’s wife was just pulling into the driveway. The household was in pandemonium, among all this chaos, Tiff smiled and said something to Jerry that only he could hear.
“I should be spanked for the naughty thoughts I’m entertaining about you right now, mister…”
Jerry stumbled around for an answer, totally without any cool, and finally came back with, “You, er, uh, like that kinda thing… spanking?”
“I don’t know about like,” Tiff returned quickly. “I know I need it often…”
After his wife fell asleep that night, Jerry had masturbated to this remembered conversation. Then he came home early from work the next day, finding Rachel busy with his squalling daughter, so he was able to secretly pick up Rachel’s phone off the couch and find Tiffany’s number in it. He called that number as soon as his wife fell asleep that night.
“I was wondering if you needed a spanking?” he started his end of the phone conversation off with after dialing in the darken kitchen.
“Who is this?” Tiff replied.
“Jerry, Rachel’s uh, employer.”
“Oh… oh, ah, no, I was just about to give myself one… I got tired of waiting for my knight in shining armor to show up… Do you want to listen while I spank my own butt?”
“I’ve got nothing better to do, so, yeah, I guess…”
And he listened to the shuffling noises of Tiff baring her butt of several layers of clothes, and the unmistakable sound of hand hitting tushy. After about ten smacks, Tiff got on to ask, “Are you stiff yet? Are you wanking off to this?”
And she heard the sounds of him dropping trou, and spitting in his hand, and then, “shm, shm, shm…” the unmistakable sound of fist flogging cock.
And he heard, “slish, slish, slish…” punctuated by spanks, and knew that she was rubbing one out of her blond pussy. It was the sexiest thing Jerry had experienced in years, since his wife had gotten pregnant.
“Are you close to cumming?” she asked breathlessly into the phone.
Actually, he was, but Jerry said, “I last a long time, baby…”
“Well, it’s not working for me! I need the real thing… I mean a spanking… in order to get off… why don’t you come over?” She gave him the address. He scribbled a note to his wife that he’d gone out for a beer because he couldn’t sleep, in case she woke up, or the baby awoke her, and was out the door.
It seemed like he was still dreaming, however, because a half hour later a cute blond co-ed was draped across his lap with her panties down around her ankles, and Jerry actually was lecturing her about “being naughty and needing this” and then he was beating the hell out of Tiffany Reynold’s adorable butt with his palm.
She really was into it! No sooner had he administered about ten solid spanks than Tiff scrambled around on his lap, got his erection out of his pants, and impaled herself on it, bouncing like in a mosh pit or something.
“How about protection?” he muttered too late, not knowing how many guys this girl had been with recently.
“I’m on the pill…” she returned, “Don’t worry,” and just kept bouncing.
He felt her tighten her grip, gush warm and wet, which was too much for him, and Jerry came inside her like a geyser.
Since that night, Jerry had seen Tiff at her apartment every chance they could work out together. And she really was into S & M. She kept admonishing Jerry to spank her harder, to use her hairbrush or his leather belt. After every punishment session, Tiffany would attack Jerry, fucking his brains out. They kept this up for a month. Jerry’s knob had never been so polished! Or his balls so thoroughly drained!
He had given the excuse of having to go into work early due to some emergency, arrived at Tiff’s place at six A.M. to find her up and getting ready for an eight o’clock class. She handed him a new acquisition, a thin rattan cane.
“I’ve always dreamed about getting caned!” she enthused, and bent her freshly-showered but still nude form over the end of the bed.
Man, you really have got it all! Jerry thought to himself as he looked at her perfect pale twin orbs and took aim. A loving wife who is a little bit more plump than you’d prefer, but is trying to lose the weight now that the baby’s here, but worships the ground you walk on. And now you have this incredible college girl who is sexy as fuck and deep into kinky shit! He’d never “caned” anybody before, wasn’t even sure which end of the thin rod to hit her with. He hoped she couldn’t tell as he raised it high and brought it down on the summit of her buttocks. He watched the flesh ripple under the impact, the muscles tighten, the deep cleft between her soft peach flinch until it was just a thin line, heard Tiff’s muffled reaction vocally. She stuck her butt out higher, her signal that she wanted more. Jerry repeated the process, thinking he was the next Marquis de Sade for the expertise he was showing with this new whip that had such a lofty reputation. He’d give her two more stripes, that should wear her out. Then, while fucking her from behind, he thought about broaching the topic of anal sex. Tiff was so experimental, so open-minded about everyth…
“Wake up!” he heard a female voice yell. Was it Jennie or something wrong with the baby…? “You fell asleep, asshole!” Tiffany was screeching. “You gave me three or four feeble flicks with the cane, and then toppled on top of me fast asleep! You haven’t been treating me fairly, mister! I need a steady diet of discipline, and you’re acting like some middle-aged old fart…”
She was holding the cane out in front of him like some ritual, expecting him to take it, to take her to task. But he just couldn’t, he didn’t have it in him, he wasn’t some de Sade sadist. He was middle-aged!
“I’m sorry, Tiff! This isn’t working out for me… I think we should take a break from seeing each other…”
Jerry was half way to work when he received a photo sent to his phone. It was from Tiffany, of course, leaning over, showing her freshly-striped buttocks in the foreground, her pretty smiling face in the background, but still recognizable. The text message said, “You don’t break-up with me! You better rest up at work! I expect to see you at my place at ten thirty tonight, ready to whip my ass properly and then fuck me thoroughly, or this same photo will be sent to your wife’s phone. I have her number the same way you got mine. I’ll tell her exact times you were here, exactly what we were doing…”
Jerry nearly drove off the road. He’d just been thinking that he had it all. Now he might have nothing, no marriage, no mistress, no child visitation after a nasty divorce… WTF!

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