by Robin Gideon
What difference does it make if they’re looking at my ass? It’s not like I’m going to give it to either one of them.
“You know,” Lydia said as the men got in stride on either side of her, “I think a drink at the hotel bar sounds wonderful. Can I change my mind on that one?”
Nick smiled down at her, and Lydia felt nectar moisten the lips of her pussy.
“Nothing wrong with changing your mind, so long as you change it in the right direction.”
My God he’s got a devilish smile.
The hotel’s tavern had an L-shaped bar, a dozen small tables, and a single flat-screen TV behind the two bartenders. There were several businessmen nursing drinks at the bar, and perhaps twenty more sitting at the round tables.
“Pick your spot,” Caleb said to Lydia.
“Everyone’s looking at you,” Lydia replied, smiling. “Cowboy boots, a bolo necktie, and a big Stetson hat are a little out of place in Mumbai.”
“Am I embarrassing you?” he asked.
“Not in the least.” Lydia surveyed her seating options. She was the only woman in the tavern, and more than a few of the businessmen gave her the once-over with their eyes. “To have at least a little privacy, what about over there.” She pointed to the short section of the brightly polished L-shaped bar. “At least then I’ve got my back to the wall and I won’t be completely visually undressed by these men.”
Both men chuckled at that, and Lydia felt a distinct, warning tickle in the pit of her stomach. She loved hearing a masculine, deep laugh, and the last thing she needed while having a cocktail in Mumbai was loving anything about her coworkers.
There were just three stools at that end of the bar, and Lydia took the middle one, with Nick to her right and Caleb to her left. The bartender, a local with exquisite English skills, took their orders. Caleb ordered a beer. Nick thought a Jack Daniels on the rocks sounded appropriate. After giving it some thought, Lydia ordered a gin martini.
Lydia took a sip of her cocktail, enjoyed the pine-needle taste, sighed, and said, “This was such a good idea.” She took another sip, then clinked her glass first to Nick’s cocktail, then to Caleb’s pilsner glass. “To success.”
“To your birthday,” Nick replied.
Lydia’s gaze lifted to his, and once again she felt a tingling sensation in her clit.
“Let’s not talk about my birthday, shall we? I’m thirty-five years old today, and the statistics say that if you’re my age and aren’t married, your chances of finding a guy and settling down are about the same as getting hit by a meteor.” She took another sip, liking the warmth the gin put in her stomach. “I’m getting old, so I’d rather not talk about it.”
“You’re not getting old, and you’re one of the most stunningly beautiful women I’ve ever met.” Nick’s gaze was sharply focused as he spoke. “You remind me of that actress…I can’t think of her name now.”
“Salma Hayek,” Caleb said. Lydia turned her head to look at him. Tall and blond with wide shoulders, he had much different features from Nick, but was no less handsome. “Yes. You always remind me of Salma Hayek.”
“I think you’re both terrible liars,” Lydia said through a smile, “but I thank you for those naughty little lies just the same.”
“I haven’t even begun to get naughty.” Nick’s tone was low, a sensual caress across the surface of Lydia’s long-neglected libido.
“Oh?” Lydia lifted a slender, arched brow. “Perhaps we should order another round. Let’s let Jack Daniels talk you out of being naughty.”
“When you were little, did you get birthday spankings?” Nick asked. Lydia’s pussy clenched at the thought. She wanted to lie, but she nodded the truth. “When I was very little. It was all just humorous stuff with the family.”
“It’s your birthday.” He turned his padded stool slightly, so that his knee touched Lydia’s. “Perhaps a spanking is just the birthday present you need.”
Lydia felt an instantaneous warmth from embarrassment rising from her pussy to turn her cheeks and ears red. In a whisper, she replied, “You wouldn’t dare.”
Nick smiled, his gaze locked with hers as he said, “Obviously, you don’t know me very well.”
Chapter Two
Nick saw it in her eyes, and he knew she wanted to keep it hidden. He always believed that the eyes tell the truth of the soul, and with Lydia, it was no different.
When he’d commented on her getting birthday spankings as a child, the flare of forbidden excitement shone in the chocolaty depths of her eyes. She tamped down the taboo thrill, but not before an embarrassed blush crept up to color her cheeks and ears.
She’s D/s, whether she knows it or not. Nick thought about that for a moment. I’ll bet she doesn’t even realize she’s a submissive.
“You’re an interesting woman,” Nick said quietly, his gaze lightly searching Lydia’s face. “If you weren’t an Amberson, I think I’d try to kiss you.”
“But I am an Amberson, and you’re too astute a businessman to think you can have an office affair and not get burned. We’re both much too mature and level headed to be that foolish.”
“It might be worth it, losing my job and all, just to put you over my knee.” He saw lust glitter in her eyes before she once again suppressed the illicit approval. “I’ll bet if you close your eyes, you can see it as clearly as if you were watching a movie. Can you see me putting you over my knee? You’d be struggling, of course, but your resistance is just a show. The hidden truth is that you’d love it if I gave your ass a good spanking.”
Lydia caught her lower lip between even, white teeth and bit down gently. She was breathing slightly faster and deeper now. When she took a sip of her martini, her hand was trembling slightly.
“Please, another round here,” Caleb said to the bartender.
Nick looked at him, wondering how much of the D/s lifestyle the big cowboy understood. Earlier in Nick’s career, when he was in Dallas before New Oslo International seduced him into moving to North Dakota, he had belonged to a D/s nightclub. He’d found the lifestyle interesting, but one that he could indulge in, or walk away from, without regret.
“You’re a presumptuous man,” Lydia said after the second round of drinks came.
A pair of businessmen started to take stools nearby, clearly wanting to get a better look at the lone female in the tavern. A glare from Caleb, who would have sat nearest to them, sent the men wandering to the opposite side of the tavern.
“Nicely done,” Nick said to Caleb. “This doesn’t seem like the right time to allow eavesdropping.” He took a sip of his cocktail, remembering the beautifully tapering thigh encased in a black silk stocking that Lydia had shown him when she got out of the taxicab. At the time he was certain it had been an accident. Now he wasn’t so sure. “Admit it, Lydia, you’re stronger than the men in your life, or at least the men in your sex life. You don’t necessarily like it that way, but that’s the truth of it, isn’t it?”
Her lashes lowered for a moment before she looked him directly in the eyes. “Yes, that’s true. My history with men is that I either chew them up and spit them out in a couple months, or they’re after my money and think that fucking me is just a nice side benefit.”
He watched her take a large and decidedly unladylike swallow from her martini.
“Whether you know it or not, what you really need is an adventure.” Nick felt his cock stirring in his trousers. He glanced around the tavern. None of the other patrons could see him or Caleb and Lydia from the chest down because of the mahogany bar. “You always wear pretty lingerie under those oh-so-professional business suits, don’t you? Beautiful lingerie that men never see?”
Again, her eyes closed briefly. He knew with rock-solid confidence that he was on the right track with Lydia.
“You give orders all the time in the boardroom, but I’m willing to bet that in the bedroom you’d like to let a strong man be the one to take charge.”
She inhaled deeply, shakily.
“No,” Nick said a bit more sharply than he had intended. “Don’t leave, Caleb. It’s not necessary. Not only that, if you left, you’d disappoint Lydia more than she can possibly imagine.”
Lydia brushed a lock of ebony black hair behind her ear, tried briefly to give a cavalier smile, then finally said, “I don’t know what you’re thinking, but you don’t know me at all. You’re speaking a lot of rubbish.”
“Then why are your panties wet?”
* * * *
Nick asked, “Then why are your panties wet?”
Lydia gasped loudly enough to draw the attention of a Mumbai businessman having a cocktail at one of the tables. She squeezed her thighs together, fighting against the rush of pleasure that oozed through her system. Her clit was tingling furiously now, her nipples hard little bundles of nerve endings waiting for attention. She felt like she was being caressed, when in fact she wasn’t being touched at all.
“You know I’m telling the truth,” Nick said, leaning a little closer. She could feel the heat of his breath, smell the strangely erotic aroma of fresh bourbon as he spoke. “Are your panties wet, Lydia? I need you to answer.”
She stared straight ahead, her hands balled in small fists in her lap. She felt herself melting inside, felt her pussy swelling and dampening in preparation for penetration. Every instinct she had as a businesswoman screamed that she should get to her feet and hurry immediately to her hotel room where, behind a locked door, she would be safe. But every feminine instinct in her also screamed that Nick was a devilishly seductive man.
Lydia shook her head. “You’re wrong.” She hardly spoke above a whisper, but even so, there was so little conviction in her tone that she was certain neither man believed her.
Nick said, “Caleb, since I’m the man who asked the question, I’m not in a position to be entirely objective. Lydia says that her panties are dry and that the idea of getting a sound, bare-bottom spanking on her thirty-fifth birthday is not an appealing one. Would you care to be the objective third party and find out what’s the truth and what’s a lie?”
The breath once again caught in Lydia’s chest. They weren’t really going to check her panties right then and there, were they?
“Take your hands out of your lap and put them on the bar.” Nick’s voice was low, but it carried a command, an authority, that Lydia was unable to challenge. She’d never before let any man speak to her in such a manner. “And spread your knees. You must allow Caleb sufficient room for inspection.” He chuckled softly. “So many men around, and yet none of them can see a thing.” His voice dipped low. “Spread your knees, Lydia, or I might just have to give you that spanking right here and now.”
She lacked the willpower to resist his domination. Though Lydia hadn’t thought it possible, she found herself slowly spreading her knees. She stared at the martini on the bar in front of her, her mind in a whirl, conscious of the fact that she was more aroused at that moment just from words, than she’d ever been from caresses.
She felt Caleb’s palm first on her knee. He had a very large hand, and the fingers were long. Slowly, inch by inch, his palm moved upward and inward, sliding toward the inside of her thigh. To Lydia, it felt like she was being branded by his red-hot touch.
Stop him. Stop him now before this silly game has gone too far.
Her good intentions at temperance did not translate into action. Her cunt was getting creamier by the second, and the higher Caleb’s hand went on her thigh, the further apart she spread her knees. She felt the tip of his little finger slide over the lacy top of her stocking, then touch the bare flesh above the silk but below her panties. Lydia’s eyes briefly shut before she forced them open again. It was almost impossible to remember to keep breathing. The tension Lydia felt was unbearable.
The fingertips began moving in a slow, seductive circular pattern as they continued their northward journey. When at last Caleb pressed his fingers against the lips of her pussy, touching her intimately but through her panties, Lydia gasped.
“Oh, God,” she whispered, one hand flying to her mouth, the other clenched in a fist on the bar. “I can’t believe I’m allowing this to happen.”
“They’re wet,” Caleb said, his hand moving up and down slowly, pressing the material of Lydia’s Victoria’s Secret thong panties against the lips of her pussy and her tingling clit. “Nick, I’d say she was lying. What’s the penalty for lying?”
If he keeps caressing my clit, I’ll come right here on this barstool in front of all these men.
“I’ve never, ever done anything like this.” Lydia’s words came out as though she was apologizing. “Why are you doing this to me?”
“We’re doing it because you need an adventure,” Nick explained. “Now go to the ladies room and take off your panties. And your bra. Then come back quickly. There’s much you have to experience before I turn that luscious ass of yours pink with a good, old-fashioned, over-the-knee spanking.”
Caleb removed his hand from between her thighs, and Lydia issued a soft, plaintive sigh. There was a ringing in her ears, and she felt a little drunk, though she hadn’t quite finished two martinis, which was well below what she needed to feel truly intoxicated.
“Go on, Lydia. And when you return, I want you to hand me your panties carefully. We mustn’t let all these men know you’re without panties and with a very wet pussy.”
“I didn’t know the Devil would wear a hand-tailored business suit,” Lydia said as she got off the barstool. She felt as though she was only semiconscious, on the verge of a trance. “You mustn’t ever, ever, ever tell anyone about this. And I think you’d better order me another martini.”
Lydia had to ask assistance in finding the ladies’ room. She was so nervous she could hardly speak. When she stepped inside the bathroom, she put her hands on the countertop and leaned close to the mirror, looking directly into her own eyes.
What am I doing? I’m a grown woman, and grown women don’t get spanked.
As though watching someone else, she took several steps away from the mirror, then lifted her skirt. When she looked at her pink thong panties, it seemed as though she was looking at someone else, some woman she didn’t know. Hooking her thumbs into the slender waistband at her hips, she tugged the damp garment down over the straps of her garter belt, then over her stockings, and finally over her high-heeled pumps.
She tucked the panties into the pocket of her jacket, then opened the jacket and looked at herself in the mirror.
I’m not going to take off my bra. Women who wear my bra size shouldn’t go anywhere without wearing a bra.
But then she watched her fingers undoing the buttons of her blouse, and she realized that the authoritarian demeanor Nick and Caleb had displayed had led to her total submission to their desires. She unbuttoned her blouse quickly to reveal the pink bra that matched her panties and garter belt.
Compromise. I’ll compromise and keep some dignity.
Lydia quickly tugged her breasts, which seemed unnaturally very full and highly sensitive, over the lacy cups of her bra. It took some manipulation, but soon the cups were beneath the twin mounds, and she was rapidly buttoning her blouse. With her jacket on, none of the men in the tavern would be able to tell that her nipples were so tight and erect they stood out like beacons, denting her blouse and displaying the extent of her arousal.
I’ve never in my entire adult life gone anywhere without panties on. Why the hell am I doing this?
She stepped out of the restroom and made her way slowly back to the men. She felt certain that all the men in the tavern were looking at her because they knew she wasn’t wearing panties or an effectively functioning bra, but she knew this wasn’t the truth. The men had all looked at her when she’d first arrived, and now was no different.
Still, she did suddenly discover that it was wickedly arousing to be in public and know that she wasn’t wearing panties. She wondered wh
at else she’d learn about herself before the night was through.
There were fresh drinks in front of both men by the time she returned to her seat. Hardly had she sat down before the bartender set a new martini in front of her. She took a sip and sighed with pleasure.
“I want you men to know that three is my limit. It always has been.”
“Well, let’s keep an open mind tonight, shall we?” Nick used the edge of his palm to push Lydia’s skirt higher up her legs. He put his palm on the inside of her thigh, his fingers splayed wide, his little finger dangerously close to her slit. “Now, hand over the panties.”
Lydia tried for a moment to ignore the hand on her thigh, then realized she really didn’t want to. As she reached into the pocket of her jacket for her panties, she felt Caleb’s hand on her leg. Never in her life had she ever been caressed by two men on the same evening, much less the same time. Everything that was happening was unprecedented in her world of wealth and privilege.
Nick put his hand on the bar, and Lydia crumpled up the panties as small as possible, and tucked them into his palm.
“I can feel how wet they are already.” There was a distinctly triumphant tone in Nick’s voice that irked Lydia. “Now put your arms on the bar, one on top of the other so that your hands are near your elbows.”
When Lydia didn’t immediately follow through with the command she’d been given, Caleb said, “You know, Nick, I’m thinking Lydia needs that spanking more than we first thought. Birthday spankings are one thing, but punishment spankings have got to be a whole lot more serious.”
Caleb’s getting into this, too. He’s forcing me to submit, just like Nick. How did I ever let this go so far?
“That’s when Lydia gets more than just that gorgeous ass spanked. That’s when she gets her pussy and nipples spanked, too.”
Despite herself, unable to resist the desire to submit, Lydia put her arms up on the bar in front of her martini glass, and whispered, “I can’t believe I’m doing this.”