Message-ID: <25086asstr$963173403@assm.asstr-mirror.org> X-Original-Path: not-for-mail From: ferndoc@my-deja.com X-Original-Message-ID: <8ila52$ivs$1@nnrp1.deja.com> X-Article-Creation-Date: Mon Jun 19 14:19:25 2000 GMT Subject: {ASSM} RP: Anne's Fantasies - Health Club (M/f D/s) Date: Sun, 9 Jul 2000 16:10:03 -0400 Path: assm.asstr-mirror.org!not-for-mail Approved: Newsgroups: alt.sex.stories.moderated,alt.sex.stories Followup-To: alt.sex.stories.d X-Archived-At: X-Moderator-Contact: ASSTR ASSM moderation X-Story-Submission: X-Moderator-ID: assm-admin ANNE'S FANTASY: THE HEALTH CLUB My lover and I reserve Sundays for sex. Which is not to say that we don't have sex any other day, but only that Sundays are saved for all-day fuck fests. Sometimes we don't even dress or get out of the bed. Other times, we resume normal life with a sexual edge to it, driving to the store and fucking in the car, or fondling each other at a restaurant and then coming home to make love. This Sunday I awake and find that my lover is already up. I pad into the kitchen and find him reading the paper. He kisses me and takes my hand, saying, "let's play racquetball today." I agree, and we get dressed. As usual, I wear a short pleated skirt which barely covers the matching panties and a matching top. We grab our bags and go. When we get to the gym, I head for the racquetball courts. My lover leads me to another door, however, saying, "Look at this room. I didn't even know it was here until the other day." It's an old weight room which no one uses now because of the modern circuit machines. We walk through the room, looking at the variety of hand weights and benches. I hear the door lock behind me, and I look at my lover, who has a gleam in his eye. "Well, I can't say I've ever fucked in a dusty old weight room," I think, "so this will be a first." But my lover has something else in mind. He comes up to me and sits on a padded bench. He grasps me by my waist and sits me in his lap. I think how it must look, as he is so much taller and larger than me, and me in my pleated skirt. I wonder if he is fulfilling some kind of schoolgirl fantasy. We sit there for a few minutes, and he is stroking the buttons on my shirt, watching my nipples perk up under the fabric and feeling me squirm as his hand strokes my knee. "We're going to try something different today," he says. "Today I'm going to spank you." I look at him, incredulous. "Why?" I ask him. "Because I want to," he says simply. "I look at your ass and it's so pale and untouched -- I want to see the red imprint of my hand, and then I want to caress it to give you pleasure. I want to pull you over my knee and discipline you. I want you to feel helpless, lying across my knees with your skirt up as I hold you down and spank you." I feel my heart fluttering in my throat, a blush rising to my cheeks. "First," he says, "let's take off these panties." He stands me up and adds, "they'll only get in the way." I pull the panties down and pull them off over my tennis shoes. He takes them from me and puts them in his bag, zipping it up afterwards. The act is so irrevocable -- he is keeping my panties -- that I feel a thrill at this show of control. "Bend over," he says, pointing to a table, and I bend forward, unsure of myself. I feel him lifting my pleated skirt over my ass, and I tense my ass, waiting for him to spank me. His fingers trace circles on my ass first, teasing me, and I hover in a state of anticipation as he strokes my buttocks gently with my fingers and then his whole hand, warming my skin. He moves directly behind me and using his foot, he nudges my legs apart. I feel his fingers manipulating my clit, and I moan, feeling the wetness seeping to his fingers. He pushes my skirt higher and begins kneading my buttocks, which feels so good, but also is a little unnerving, as he holds each cheek in his hands, squeezing and massaging them, stroking my anus with his thumbs. It makes me squirm, and I feel very vulnerable in this position, unable to see him or defend myself. He is stroking the inside of my thighs now, which are embarrassingly wet, and I arch my back and ass toward him in pleasure. He knows how sensitive this area is, and he rewards me with teasing brushes of my clit with his hands. "I'm going to spank you now," he announces, and before I realize it, his flat hand swats my left buttock with a loud smack, then the right. I feel the sting immediately and gasp, but his warm hand immediately rubs the red skin, swirling the pain into a soothing caress. I moan and stretch my hands in front of me on the table. His hand spanks my ass again, two quick swats on each cheek, followed by a lovely, long caress with his hand underneath me stroking my clit. I am squirming now and panting. He sits down on the bench and pulls me across his lap, until my ass is perched on his knees and I am tilted forward precariously, my hands flat on the floor to keep me from falling. I feel my skirt lifted up again, and his firm hand begins spanking me harder, caressing me, then spanking me again. There is no time to think -- he shifts back and forth quickly, and I gasp and moan as my skin gets hotter and more sensitive. He is stroking my clit and this feels me with an urgency, as my hips writhe against his lap, bucking futilely in need of release. He stands me up then, panting, and removes my clothing. He pushes me face first against the wall and tells me to lean against it and spread my legs. He removes a riding crop from his bag, and I feel him tracing this over my skin sensuously, then he strikes my ass and my thighs, stopping to stroke my skin every few moments. I whimper as he whips me, and my skin stings terribly, but there is no denying how wet my pussy is becoming. He turns me abruptly, fastening my wrists in padded cuffs attached to a weight training pulley which holds my arms over my head, as the weight is far too heavy for me. My breasts are pulled up, and he caresses my hard nipples with the crop as I squirm and try to pull away. He flicks the crop twice against my nipples sharply, then attaches his mouth to my breasts, sucking and licking my stinging nipple softly. I moan with the pleasure his lips are wreaking on my breasts, and he steps back and again snaps the crop against my now-wet nipple. I cry out and he again caresses my breast. He strokes my pussy with the crop and he snaps it sharply upward between my thighs and my ass while he is stroking my breasts. He rubs the tip of the crop brushing against my wet pussy, and I feel it entering me slightly. He withdraws it and begin tapping it against my clit, gently, interspersed with a few slightly harder snaps which fall between my thighs, on my labia, my anus and my clit. He kisses me hungrily then, rubbing his hands over my whole body, and I am writhing and gasping for breath. He fucks me standing up, my hands still cuffed over my head, and he places the crop horizontally against my back, holding both ends, to keep me tight against him as he thrusts wildly into my pussy. We come together, our bodies wet with perspiration and juice. -- Pursuant to the Berne Convention, this work is copyright with all rights reserved by its author unless explicitly indicated. +---------------------------------------------------------------------------+ | alt.sex.stories.moderated ----- send stories to: | | FAQ: Moderator: | +---------------------------------------------------------------------------+ |Archive: Hosted by Alt.Sex.Stories Text Repository | |, an entity supported entirely by donations. | +---------------------------------------------------------------------------+