Recently, an interesting couple moved in next door. His name is William, not Bill, William. He calculates constantly, the value, the price, the amount, the worth of: pastimes, possessions, even people. He owns a small business and spends all his time either calculating at work or calculating at home. His wife Marge is passionate: passionate about her garden, passionate about her children, passionate about politics. A joy to talk to she injects and enervates you with her enthusiasm. He, sadly, has missed what is truly valuable in his life and sees Madge as a "trophy wife" who can advance his business goals.
But she is indeed a delectable morsel. I will look out my window at her gardening. Clad in her cut-off jeans, her sensuous apple bum, rolls and dances as she digs away. Her ass is hypnotic for me, a man who loves the sight of a splendid ass. I try to catch her working in the yard or bending to pick up a child whenever I can. The shorts are frayed and tight and as she bends over I can catch a glimpse of the white cotton, or blue silk panties of the day, as they hug her pouting cunt. I imagine, fondling, groping, spreading but most of all spanking that apple ass, that peach juicy pussy.
I long to watch them turn from alabaster to pink, to raging red. As I stare I pull my cock to a climax and then dream some more.
Then, I happened to be bringing home some items from school, clearing my desk as it were; inside one of the boxes was a straw boater hat and a cane. At one of the school charity functions, I played a carnival barker and ran the dunking machine, pretty standard fare.
Madge saw me in the driveway and joked. "Hey sir, I thought we did away with caning in the Victorian era."
I placed the box on the asphalt and brandished the cane like a rapier. "There, is nothing for it my sweet but to tattoo your backside proper till you cease your recalcitrance and mend your wayward behavior. Take that, Little Nell."
I swished the air with my cane imitating the fowl head master of years gone by.
We both giggled and I said. "Yes that is the one thing I will miss, caning the bottoms of those tender young things. I will have to save it for the neighbors who come dressed in leather to borrow a cup of sugar."
To my utter surprise, two hours later, Madge was at my door in black leather mine and holding out a measuring cup. "Please sir, I want more." She held out the cup with two hands and looked humbly down to the ground. I am not sure if I ever got such a raging hard on in such a short time. I was at a loss for words then tried.
"You have missed an assignment for the last time Miss Bower. Do you hear me?"
"Yes sir, she looked down at her shuffling feet." I knew the game was on and I took her by the hand and dragged her into the dinning room. On the couch was the bow with the bamboo cane. I pulled it out as we whisked passed. I forced her over the dinning room table and sliced the air menacingly with the thin cane.
"Oh, please sir, I will never be late with an assignment again. Never, never, never." Real tears and sobs accompanied her act. Slowly I peeled up her leather skirt. There it was.... the object of so much desire, of so many masturbatory musings. White cotton panties stretched tightly across a rolling ass. She moved her legs back and forth and from under the perfect orbs a hint of a cunt appeared and disappeared wantonly.
I cannot describe the ache and longing which were peeked when I pulled down those panties. They stuck and clung to all of her gorgeous opening and crevices. The moist crotch was evident as I inched them to the ground.
Before caning I ran my hands over her tight taught muscled ass, the back of her stretched thighs, the soft pliant inner thighs then I squeezed her darling cunt between the pad of my thumb and my finger. Next I took a glorious cheek in each hand and spread her ass wide. A delicately lined and puckered rose bud stared at me. THWACK! I struck a savage slap to her bum. I needed to use my hands first, to feel the flesh jiggle and warm under my palms. I had waited so long. Soon, I was making " hung, huh, huh," noises with each punishing slap and Madge was pumping like she was fucking the dinning room table. Her groans and sighs matched mine. We were both carried fast and away with a galloping passion. Her ass pinkened then reddened and I began slapping her pussy with the same vigor. Her legs opened and I felt her flicker and twitch in mini orgasms.
Next, I began with the cane. I was loath to really injure her but the tiger within us both possessed us. She called for.." more, yes, yes, o fuck yes, Oh Daddy harder, faster. Cane stripes appeared on her delicious ass, inner thighs, and cunt. When she was truly crying and pumping she broke off to turn around and ripped open her blouse.
"Hurt my nipples, sir, please. Hurt my tits."
"Oh yes" she cried and sank to her knees ass I took a nipple in each hand and pinched with thumb and knuckle as hard as I could. She writhed and tossed her head from side to side but never asked for me to stop.
"Oh fuck, yes, yes," were her only word and though she was on her knees she managed to pump her hips in a wild fuck movement. She tore open the front of my pants. The clasp flew across the room. She sucked my cock. I mean that she sucked my cock, not a slurp and peck and tongue blowjob but sucked the semen right out of my throbbing balls. She was voracious and drank and sucked unmercifully till I bucked and thrashed in pain. Pulling her head away but she would not give. It was a battle to extract my pumping thrusting cock from her maniacal mouth.
Finally, we both collapsed on the floor. "Oh sir, a teacher, a widower, next door to me. I hope I get special attention all the time." Entirely spent we snuggled and napped on the rug. I had inserted my finger up that marvelous ass as we collapsed to the carpet and we slept with my finger inside her.
DaddyDearest
