From the time I was eight years old, I fantasized about giving a guy a spanking over my lap. As far back as I can remember, I was fascinated by the shape of a man's rear. The idea of spanking a man was exciting even before I was old enough to understand the erotic power of it. Movies and t. v. shows that showed guys getting spanked were incredibly provocative to me, although I knew that others probably didn't think the same way, or so I assumed by the fact that my family members or friends thought that spankings on t. v. were humorous rather than sensual.
When I started checking out guys in school, especially a couple of hunky male teachers, I wondered what it would be like to give them a spanking. Mind you, this was in the 70s when all the guys wore tight pants, so you couldn't look in any direction without seeing a cute rear end nicely displayed in snug-fitting jeans or, my favorite, clinging corduroys. As you might well imagine, watching the class hunk's panty lines in his tight white pants as he bent over to get something out of his locker was absolute torture for me.
When I got out of college and finally started dating guys, the _s_e_x_ was fun but I was aching to give a spanking. I always liked muscular men since they have the cutest butts, and it was a shame to spend an evening with a guy without a playful spanking, but I was always too timid to bring up the subject. I'm sure some of them wouldn't have minded, or maybe even have enjoyed it, but I decided to hide my secret passion for fear of being thought weird. Instead, I satisfied myself with spanking videos from man's hand, which I always thought were the best ones.
When I moved to San Francisco, I met a hot, muscular guy while waiting in the muni metro, of all places. He was standing on the outbound platform in the Castro street station, waiting for a train. He had a very beautiful, muscular body, and a beefy tush in tight jeans that just took my breath away. I remembered seeing him in muscle system a couple of times, but was always too afraid to talk to him. We cruised each other a couple of times, and then both started laughing, I don't know why, maybe to relieve the tension. We wound up talking to each other and became friends.
I didn't really think that "Mike" and I were clicking as romantic partners, but we became friends nonetheless and he came over to my place every weekend to watch videos when I lived in Twin Peaks. I met his bodybuilder friends, and then we became workout partners too. One Friday evening I think we drank too much wine because we started touching and kissing each other, and then one thing led to another. I couldn't believe that I was actually kissing him, he was more of a buddy than a _s_e_x_ partner, and I should have learned my lesson long ago about ruining a platonic friendship with _s_e_x_.
Anyway, he said "are you good with your hands?" and I said "yeah, I guess." He stood up and then lay down across my lap, on the sofa, presenting his big ass to me. I had admired it ever since we met, but never dreamed it would be right in front of me.
"Give me a spanking," he said softly as he rocked his hips back and forth a little, wiggling his muscular buns in his tight jeans.
"If you say so," I said, even though I never spanked a guy in my life. I slapped his right cheek and he breathed in sharply, then I slapped his left cheek and he sighed and wiggled his buns again. I could feel his erection pressing into my leg as I studied the way his jeans pulled suggestively between his fat buns. The whole thing felt really weird, here I was giving my best friend a spanking. Don't get me wrong, it was exciting, but it was something I had never done before. To tell you the truth, I actually felt kind of bad about it. Even though I dreamed about giving a spanking for years, I had never hit anyone in my life. I felt bad enough just scolding my cat.
"Don't stop there," he said. "Come on."
So I slapped his big buns a few more times, and he really seemed to enjoy it, wiggling his hips and moaning softly as my hand connected. The sound of my hand slapping against his rear echoed in my living room, and it made me really hard. That and watching Mike's face, which had a strange expression of pain and pleasure with each slap. I didn't spank him very hard, but my hand started to hurt after only a dozen slaps or so. My palm was all red. I didn't expect a spanking to make my hand sting so much, but watching Mike squirm on my lap like a bad boy being punished was worth the discomfort.
He reached under himself and unfastened his jeans, and I pulled them down his beefy legs, to see the cute little underwear that I had seen so many times in the gym when he was getting dressed. Now with only a thin layer of cotton to protect his big but sensitive buns, he was much more animated as I continued spanking: yelping, moaning, and sighing with pleasure. He tried to anticipate my slaps, clenching his massive glutes just before each slap, until I learned to slap him in a non-rhythmic pattern. I really got into it, learning to cup and squeeze his cheeks after each slap, which he really seemed to enjoy. Sometimes I stopped to pinch his buns, and a couple of times I pulled his little underwear between his buns.
Then I pulled off his briefs and saw that his big butt was very red. I put my hand over it and felt heat wafting up from his skin, and knew that his buns were probably stinging. I felt bad again, so I soothed his buns with my hands and he sighed and thrust his hips upward, inviting me. I moved around and kissed his buns, and he jerked himself off while I gave him a very deep rim job. Then he exploded all over my sofa.
I always thought it was weird the way he loved being spanked, until he came clean one day and admitted that he saw a spanking video that I accidentally left in the VCR. Thinking I wouldn't miss it, he "borrowed" it and watched it when he got home, became aroused that I liked spanking, and then made a pass at me when we got together the next week.
"But how did you know that I liked giving and not receiving?" I asked.
He shrugged and smiled, saying that he took a chance. For his "transgression", he was sentenced to a sound spanking over my lap, punishment to commence immediately with the new paddle he brought me, a small black affair riddled with holes to decrease wind resistance. No more stinging palms, although I still prefer to use my hand.
Well, a friendship changes when _s_e_x_ is involved, and we were no exception. We saw each other every weekend for four years, and there was a lot of spanking involved, believe me. Sometimes we created "scenes", where he was a naughty pupil or an AWOL sailor in need of correction. The spanking was fantastic, much more satisfying and erotic than I ever imagined, and especially more so once I understood that Mike enjoyed receiving as much as I enjoyed giving.
We still see each other occasionally, although he moved to the east coast five years ago so I'm pretty sure he has another boyfriend but he never mentions him. Whenever he comes to San Francisco I eagerly pick him up at the airport, he stays at my place, and we have a great time.