They met through a newsgroup related to spanking and started sending messages to each other. In their fantasies she liked to be spanked and he saw himself as an experienced spanker although neither one of them had ever made the transition from fantasy to reality. But that made their relationship even more special. They could exchange ideas and fuel the other's imagination without facts getting in the way. There were many steamy letters but by far the larger number were where they shared their other fears and hopes. Barely a day went by without one or many e-mails traversing the network to keep them in touch with their new-found friend. They had many common interests and cared about each other very much. Only geographical distance separated them until by chance or divine providence they both had to travel to the same city.

They were staying in the same hotel but held off their first meeting until dinner the first night. All day they had been preoccupied with the excitement of actually seeing the physical person they had already started to love. There was an awkward moment when they faced each other and after a perfunctory handshake they laughed and fell into each other's arms for the hug that they had longed for. Their conversation was lively and intoxicating and eventually they found some excuse to justify going to his room so they could be alone. They were both a little apprehensive as the door closed behind them and they looked at the only real furniture in the room. The bed. She giggled nervously and he stepped in front of her. She came to his open arms and their lips met. First in a chaste little kiss like cousins and then a full three count tongue wrestling match that left them both speechless and wanting more. They indulged themselves in this activity while their hands frantically unbuttoned and unzipped and pulled off the outer trappings of polite society. Once this delightful chore was completed these same hands explored all that had previously been covered and panting sounds accompanied the drawing down of the bedclothes. They made love with all the pent up sexual energy they had felt since their first e-mail.

In their haste they had momentarily forgotten the subject which had brought them together in the first place but after their immediate needs were satisfied and ample time to snuggle in the afterglow he sat on the edge of the bed and patted his thigh in invitation. She smiled and looked so sweet and coy as she rested the front of her body on his legs. Her breasts and arms were on the bed and her feet barely touched the floor but the those parts and their locations were not important. It was her rear end that occupied their thoughts and his eyes. It was glorious and every bit as wonderful as he had imagined. He ran his hand over it lovingly and she purred. He rubbed some more and she purred again. He rubbed some more and...

The truth was that he had spanked her countless times in his dreams but now that he finally had his big chance he was afraid. It took her initiative and soft request to get him to do more than rub it lovingly. She said, "Spank me. I've been waiting for this a long time. Make my bottom bright red. Spank me to tears and show me what kind of man you really are. Punish me and make me your slave." (I told you she had an active imagination.)

This was the kind of thing he was hoping to hear. A woman begging him to do what he had been wanting to do for years. He raised his hand and brought it crashing down. The sweet demure lady on his lap yelled, "Ouch, that hurt."

What an opportunity. At last he could say, "It's supposed to."

If he meant it as a joke she was not amused. "Not that much it isn't. Take it easy."

Only slightly deflated at losing the control he thought he had he softened his spanks but not enough. If it was his dream (and hers) to have the spanking lead to tears they accomplished that goal however, not in the way they hoped.

She rolled off his lap and was sniffling but not from physical pain as she said, "I'm sorry. It isn't anything like I thought it would be. I can't go through with it. It was fun to fantasize about but I think that's where I want to leave it. Maybe I should go now. Where did you throw my panties?"

"Wait" he said. "There's nothing to be sorry for. I thought I'd like it too but now I feel the same way you do. I wouldn't hurt you for the world and I didn't enjoy spanking you. I guess that makes us both look a little foolish after all the things we wrote to each other about how our first spanking would be. Please stay. I have an idea."

She rejoined him on the bed and he whispered in her ear. She nodded and smiled. As long as his mouth was there he stayed in that vicinity for gentle kissing and nibbling before paying homage to all her other wonderful charms for a good long time.

They were both very aroused and ready for round two when it was time to put his plan into action. She quickly lay over his lap and in a moment she cried, "Ow. Please don't punish me. I'll be good and never do it again. Ouch, Oh, you're so strong and stern and I'm a poor helpless girl. I cannot take any more. Oh, you brute. How can you treat me like this. I am so sore and you are going to keep spanking me until you're satisfied that I've learned my lesson. I've learned it, honest. Ouch, no more please."

During this heartrending outburst he was striking from a distance of about one quarter of an inch and adding his own commentary. "You are a spoiled little girl and you will be spanked like this for as long as I think is necessary and at the slightest recurrence of your improper behavior you will be right back here for more."

One could barely make out the sound of his hand tapping her skin and he judged the end of the "spanking" by their mutual need to fill and be filled. It was a marvelous experience and in the years to come they would repeat this fantasy and others like it without her glorious bottom getting the slightest bit pink. The spankings in their heads while their bodies acted out the pantomime were fantastic.

Life is good although not always what we expect.

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