I knew that I would have to stop being so damn enthralled by her, find a way to summon a little testosterone, and take control once we reached my building. Though we were silent, the air was thick with possibility and anticipation. Perhaps in preparation for our coming union, I felt myself growing more in tune with Elizabeth’s body. It may have been my imagination, but I was nearly certain that our breathing synchronized. Clearly not a figment of my imagination was Elizabeth’s hand on mine as we pulled into my parking spot. Turning to face her, I softly said, ‘Let’s go upstairs.’ As we walked inside, our hands bumped, and our fingers slowly intertwined. We shared our first kiss as the elevator creaked to my floor. With no shame about being maudlin, I can only say that the kiss, while brief, was magical. If there is anything sweeter than the sharing of a first kiss between two who have so long desired that kiss, I have yet to find it. Such soft lips, such a sweet, faint scent, both. When he felt it, he almost jumped off her lap. His throat sent out a loud “Oooaah, no more, please stop spanking me, Miss Anderson.” The girls called out “Nine,” and Bonnie waited again. She put the brush on his back and felt his burning cheeks. That hurt him almost as much as the brush itself. She squeezed his hot buns as Smith twisted and tried to avoid her touch. “Yoowwee, that hurts, Miss Anderson. Please stop, my butt is on fire.” Telling him the last one was coming, she saw his ass crack tighten up. The veins in his arms flexed as he got a firm hold on the chair legs. After waiting a lot longer than necessary, and extending his anxiety, Bonnie blasted the left side of his crimson ass with all she had. At first it flattened. Then it popped back up with the white oval outline of her hairbrush in the middle of a bright red field. By the time his “Aaaaahhhhhh” came out, the white was gone and both bottom cheeks were trembling and his legs were kicking wildly. The vicarious voyeurs.
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