Sunday Afternoon

“Well if you don't want to get spanked, I guess you should go home.”

That statement sort of made me mad. It wasn't that I didn't want to get spanked, I just was feeling self- conscious and nervous and all of the things that this guy should have understood. Not only would this be the first time I played the BDSM game in general, but it's also the first time with him.

Let me back up. He was a friend of my friend, Jenna. He, Jenna, and Jenna's boyfriend (now husband) used to be part of a punk rock crew that hung out at the punk rock bars near the city. As everyone started getting older and getting married and starting families, a lot of the members lost touch with each other. But Jenna always remained close to him. I even thought he liked her somewhat. Obviously, Jenna was taken, but she still enjoyed the friendship that they had. When she introduced me to him, I wasn’t impressed. He seemed older than me, at least by 10 years. Plus, he was really surly-looking: he had a huge beard, long, unkempt hair, and he always wore a lot of camouflage (he’s a hunter). He was nice enough, but there were no sparks, and it didn’t seem like he was that interested in me either.

“He’s really nice,” Jenna tried to convince me one day. "He will treat you good.”

I gave her a look. “But I'm not physically attracted to him,” I said back. “That's not just a guy thing, you know.”

Jenna rolled her eyes at me. “You should give him a shot. He might surprise you!”

One night, Jenna planned a hang-out for the three of us. I wasn't sure what she was expecting from it, but I just went along for something to do. We met up at one of the punk rock bars they used to frequent back in the day. I wasn't really dressed to impress, but I knew how to clean up. Jenna and I walked in the place and he was already there. He still looked the same… hair not brushed with his scraggly beard. Tonight, he wore a black thermal long-sleeve shirt and—camouflage pants. Ugh.

“What's up,” he said informally as we sat next to him. He was already halfway through a beer. Soon, he and Jenna were reminiscing about the concerts they'd seen at this bar and the crazy times they had. I was the third wheel, which I almost expected to be. I couldn't understand why Jenna thought there'd be anything between us. I threw back the last of my draft and put money down for another. This was going to suck.

Jenna got up to use the restroom. There we sat with her empty seat between us, awkward as hell.

“So, what's new with you,” he asked, obviously trying to fill the void. I nervously sipped my beer.

“Nothing much, you know?” I wasn't sure what to say to him. Did Jenna tell him he should put some moves on me?

Before it got any worse, Jenna came back and sat down. “What are you guys talking about?” Both of us shook our heads.

“Nothing,” he replied. Then, they started up again about “the good old days.” I felt like I was intruding on their date.

After a couple more drinks, we all got up to leave. He had to wake up for work at 6:00 AM the next morning. He and Jenna embraced in a good-bye hug, then he looked at me.

“Nice to see you,” he said and left.

Jenna glared at me. “You could have tried,” she said as we walked out to our cars.

“There was no interest on his end at all,” I exclaimed. “He was talking to you all night…”

I wasn't mad her; I was just upset because I never have luck with guys. I wasn't even interested in him, but I was pissed that I didn't even hold his attention like she did.

As I got ready for bed that night, I noticed a text on my phone. I didn't recognize the number as I read the message:

You need a spanking.

My eyes widened. I didn't know if this was a joke, or maybe a case of a wrong number. Puzzled, I answered back:

Who is this?

Usually, if it's a wrong number, this simple question would let the sender know that they fucked up and they might apologize, but then stop texting.

Jenna's friend.

The reply came quickly. I had so many questions… Obviously, Jenna gave him my phone number. But why is he talking to me now? And what does he mean by that? I thought carefully about my next response…

So why are you texting me that?

I was confused. He didn't say much to me all night. Now, he gets my number and that’s his greeting? I was a bit annoyed. When no message came after that, I got nervous for some reason. I was lying in bed trying to act like I wasn't intrigued by this. Did my last text scare him away? Whatever, I told myself. How is he going to ignore me, then send crazy texts? I'm gonna get Jenna for this! Then my phone lit up, alerting me to a new message. For someone who didn't care, my heart definitely skipped a beat.

Your ass was looking good tonight and I think it needs to be spanked.

Such a weird exchange, but I started feeling the slightest hint of arousal. What the fuck? I wasn't even sure how to answer. Was he just shy and didn't know what to say in person? Or clearly, he’s a freak, and he didn't want to talk this way in front of Jenna. Did she know this about him? She never said anything to me before… Now I was out of bed, pacing the floor. My next answer will determine what will happen. I'm certainly not attracted to this guy, and he’s not nice at all. But the words he’s saying are turning me on. Maybe he does want to spank me or more, and I haven't had any other offers. I cracked my knuckles and took a deep breath:

So, what should we do about this?

I stared at the screen. It was my attempt to be playful and sexy. Maybe I should have said "Am I a bad girl?" No, that just sounds stupid. I've had several guys “spank" me in the past. It is enjoyable to me, but there was something always cheesy and fake when you throw in words like that during the act. I sat back down on the bed. There are always such long pauses. It makes me think that he’s doing this in front of other people, and they're laughing at what I say.

You should come over this Sunday around noon.

Well, that's forward. I knew very little about this guy to be engaging in some light BDSM activity with him, yet my curiosity and horniness was actually making me consider it. I can always leave if things get weird.

OK give me your address.

It's not like he’s a total stranger. Plus, it gives me something mysterious and exciting to look forward to. I laid down on the bed with a smile on my lips. This could be fun!

* * * * *

Fast forward to Sunday. I had so much anxiety about my “play date.” I went through the rest of the week in a daze. After he sent me his address, I didn't hear anything else from him. I texted him Saturday night to confirm, but all he said was I'll be here. Geez… he’s not a man of many words, which had me second-guessing this meeting. I didn't even tell Jenna about it yet. I want to know what the outcome was going to be before bragging (or crying) to her about it.

As my navigation directed me to his house, I started having qualms. Why did he arrange for a session like this on a Sunday afternoon? Not that I know much about it, but I'm pretty sure any type of kink usually happens at night. Does he have roommates? The guy is in his early forties, and I assumed he lived alone, but you never know.

After arriving at my destination, I parked my car and stepped out. He lived in a nice part of the city with decent houses. I was kind of relieved that nobody was outside; I felt like people would know my purpose for coming here. House number 221… here it is. His house looked normal, with white siding and a brown door. A mailbox hung to the right of the door… very old school. I knocked. The wait felt like forever until he answered the door.

“Hey,” he said with no expression on his face.

I felt the doubt creeping back into my soul. Today, his hair was in a man-bun at the back of his head, and he was wearing a black T-shirt and khaki pants. Hmm… no camo. He motioned for me to follow him. I stepped in and closed the door behind me.

We went down steps that lead to a lower-level apartment. When we walked into the living room, I could definitely tell he lived there alone. There were clothes heaped in a pile in the corner. There were used drinking glasses and a dirty microwave dinner container on the coffee table. The TV was on, but it was blank, as if he had his DVD player or a game system running.

“Would you like a beer?” he asked.

I nodded. I was probably a mix of nerves and disbelief. I guess he didn't care enough to fix up the place. What did I get myself into? He disappeared into the kitchen and came back with a can of beer which I promptly cracked open and took a huge gulp. Oh Lord…

“Hey now… go easy on that!” he said. “I don't want you drunk.”

I just blinked and looked at the beer in my hand. It was funny that he thought one beer could get me drunk.

“So you haven't said a word since you got here,” he remarked as he sat on the couch. He was staring me up-and-down which sort of made me uneasy, but the look on his face said he liked what he saw. "Are you ready to get spanked?”

I looked at him as if he was an alien.

“So you're just gonna spank me right off the bat?” I said, a catch in my voice. I sounded so stupid. He laughed.

"No, no,” he said. It was the first time I saw that his eyes sparkled when he smiled. No… still not attracted. “We're going to do some things to prepare you for it. Right now, I need you to strip down to your bra and panties.”

I felt my face get hot. I guess I was expecting a bit of conversation to get to know each other before getting down to business. I don't know why I got uneasy about taking my clothes off. Obviously, I knew that this would be happening but… now I'm wondering if this was a good idea.

“Well, I kind of thought we would get to know each other,” I said to him playing with the beer can. “I guess I'm a bit nervo—"

He stood up quickly, cutting me off. “Well if you don't want to get spanked, I guess you should go home.” We both stood facing each other.

“Wait, I-I…” I was stammering. I couldn't get a sentence out at all. I thought I was being logical.

“I'm going to put my laundry in the dryer,” he said, walking towards the door. “If you want to get spanked, be in your bra and panties when I return.” Then he left.

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