kept me busy. My rear end had
stopped smarting around lunch time, and I took a break to go over to one of the
academic buildings where I knew there was a single person lockable faculty restroom.
I stood on the stool in the bathroom to examine my butt in the mirror; no
redness anymore.
Four
o’clock finally came around, and I tossed the paperwork on the passenger seat
of my car and followed the scribbled down directions that Mark had provided me.
The traffic wasn’t too bad, for once, and I made good time heading west towards
the ocean.
His
adobe ranch house was in an older development, backing up to the mountains and
Camp Pendleton. Conveniently located, I thought. I parked in the street, grabbed
the papers, and got out of my car.
I
paused at the trunk of my sedan, and looked at the Jimmy parked in the driveway.
More specifically, I looked at the tailgate. And remembered. My mind was now
made up.
Glancing
around, I saw a storm drain. Eh, paper is biodegradable , I thought, and
tossed the applications down to the dolphins.
Mark met me at the door
with a chaste (for us, at least) kiss. He guided me over to the couch in the
sunken living room, and we sat down.
“ There’s
something–”
“I
have something–”
We
laughed, and I motioned to him with a sinking feeling. He wanted a divorce. Just
when I decided the other way. But I want to be married! I screamed in
my head. “Go ahead,” I told him, much more rationally.
He got down on one knee,
and pulled a ring out of his pocket. “Abby, the past few days have been
amazing. I’ve loved spending time with you, and having you spend time over my
knee.” He chuckled, and I joined in through the tears that had sprung up. “I’m
falling in love with you, and want to fall more in love with you every day
until we grow old and gray. Abigail Sandborn, as of 11:42 pm last Friday
night, would you marry me?”
“Yes,”
I told him, and pulled him into my arms for a long, deep kiss.
“What
were you going to say?” Mark asked when we came up for air.
I
looked at him shyly. “I was going to tell you what I did with the paperwork
Glennys gave me.” At his raised eyebrow, I continued. “I threw them down the
storm drain.”
His
eyes gleamed with realization of my unasked question. “Why you naughty girl
you.” He reached for my waistband. “You know what happens to naughty girls....”
The (well spanked) End
Blushing Publications thanks you whole-heartedly for your
purchase with us!
There are plenty more stories such as the one you’ve
purchased from Blushing Books! Visit our online store to view our might
selection!
http://www.blushingbooks.com
This book is intended for adults only. Spanking and other
sexual activities represented in this book are fantasies only, intended for
adults. Nothing in this book should be interpreted as advocating any
non-consensual spanking activity or the spanking of minors.
stopped smarting around lunch time, and I took a break to go over to one of the
academic buildings where I knew there was a single person lockable faculty restroom.
I stood on the stool in the bathroom to examine my butt in the mirror; no
redness anymore.
Four
o’clock finally came around, and I tossed the paperwork on the passenger seat
of my car and followed the scribbled down directions that Mark had provided me.
The traffic wasn’t too bad, for once, and I made good time heading west towards
the ocean.
His
adobe ranch house was in an older development, backing up to the mountains and
Camp Pendleton. Conveniently located, I thought. I parked in the street, grabbed
the papers, and got out of my car.
I
paused at the trunk of my sedan, and looked at the Jimmy parked in the driveway.
More specifically, I looked at the tailgate. And remembered. My mind was now
made up.
Glancing
around, I saw a storm drain. Eh, paper is biodegradable , I thought, and
tossed the applications down to the dolphins.
Mark met me at the door
with a chaste (for us, at least) kiss. He guided me over to the couch in the
sunken living room, and we sat down.
“ There’s
something–”
“I
have something–”
We
laughed, and I motioned to him with a sinking feeling. He wanted a divorce. Just
when I decided the other way. But I want to be married! I screamed in
my head. “Go ahead,” I told him, much more rationally.
He got down on one knee,
and pulled a ring out of his pocket. “Abby, the past few days have been
amazing. I’ve loved spending time with you, and having you spend time over my
knee.” He chuckled, and I joined in through the tears that had sprung up. “I’m
falling in love with you, and want to fall more in love with you every day
until we grow old and gray. Abigail Sandborn, as of 11:42 pm last Friday
night, would you marry me?”
“Yes,”
I told him, and pulled him into my arms for a long, deep kiss.
“What
were you going to say?” Mark asked when we came up for air.
I
looked at him shyly. “I was going to tell you what I did with the paperwork
Glennys gave me.” At his raised eyebrow, I continued. “I threw them down the
storm drain.”
His
eyes gleamed with realization of my unasked question. “Why you naughty girl
you.” He reached for my waistband. “You know what happens to naughty girls....”
The (well spanked) End
Blushing Publications thanks you whole-heartedly for your
purchase with us!
There are plenty more stories such as the one you’ve
purchased from Blushing Books! Visit our online store to view our might
selection!
http://www.blushingbooks.com
This book is intended for adults only. Spanking and other
sexual activities represented in this book are fantasies only, intended for
adults. Nothing in this book should be interpreted as advocating any
non-consensual spanking activity or the spanking of minors.
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