By Flatfish

Amanda watched Bobby, her four-year-old son, eagerly scanning the rooftops for signs of Father Christmas as they walked together up the dark, snow covered path to her parent’s house. She couldn’t help having a look herself - just in case. She laughed. Santa and his reindeer, knights on white chargers, fairies at the bottom of the garden, it’s sad, she thought, the way growing up strips away our childhood dreams.

Amanda’s dad opened the door, lighting up the nighttime garden and grinned enthusiastically as they approached. Somehow Mum and Dad always managed to hang on to the magic of Christmas and Amanda thought wistfully of Christmas’s growing up.

“Have you sent your letter to Santa yet?” her dad asked Bobby.

“Not yet Grandad.”

“Oh come on then. We haven’t a moment to lose.”

“Mummy, you’ve got to write one too,” Bobby cried, bubbling with excitement.

“Oh, I don’t know,” said Amanda. “I’m sure Santa will be too busy to bring me anything.”

“Nonsense,” laughed her father. “I’m sure Santa can find time for my little girl.”

Amanda grimaced at her dad and allowed Bobby to drag her into the house.

As Bobby and his grandad worked on their letter, Amanda looked thoughtfully at her blank paper wondering what she could possibly write. Her dad looked up at her.

“Come on angel,” he said. “There must be something you wish Santa would bring you.”

Amanda picked up her pen and after a moment’s thought she grinned and wrote “Dear Santa, Please send me a handsome knight to sweep me off my feet and fulfil my wildest dreams.” She wanted to write “naughtiest dreams” but she was conscious that her dad and Bobby might want to know what she meant.

Christmas morning brought more snow and lots of presents. Amanda and her son headed outside to play with Bobby’s new sledge while her mum and dad set to work on the Christmas dinner. Sledging gave way to snowman building and that descended into snowball fighting. Bobby scurried behind the snowman giggling as Amanda smiled menacingly and scooped snow into her hands.

“Now you’re going to get it,” she laughed. She made an exaggerated performance of preparing to throw the snowball and hurled it into the air. She deliberately missed Bobby by a mile but was much less careful about which direction the snowball did take.

At the precise moment she let fly, the next-door neighbour stepped unwittingly out into the fresh morning air. Amanda’s laughter turned to horror as she watched her snowball fly with unerring accuracy and exploded a second later into the neighbour’s astonished face.

“Hey you kids!” he shouted, angrily brushing snow off his hair and jumper. “Watch what you’re doing or I’ll come round and tell your parents.”

Amanda snatched off her woolly hat and shook her long brown hair free. She stepped forward nervously. “I… I’m terribly sorry,” she stuttered. “It was an accident.”

The neighbour came to meet her and held out his hand, grinning. “I’m sorry,” he said. “I didn’t realise you were an adult.”  He gave Amanda an admiring look, taking in her slim five foot two frame where even her quilted jacket failed to hide her delightful curves. Amanda was equally appraising of the neighbour. He was a similar age to her, about twenty-five, athletic, handsome, delicious, she thought.

She shook his hand. “I’m Amanda Brook,” she said. “This is my son, Bobby. We’re just visiting my parents for Christmas.”

“Mark Knight,” said the neighbour. “I just moved in a few days ago.”

“Pleased to meet you,” said Amanda, giggling. “I’m terribly sorry about the snowball but I don’t think it would do much good telling my parents. I think I’m a bit too old to be spanked.” She immediately cringed and regretted her words as an embarrassed silence hung in the air. What ever possessed her to make such an intimate remark and give such a telling insight into her personal desires. Mark also was taken aback. Could it be that this pretty young visitor shared his secret passion.

“Are you here with your husband?” Mark asked.

“No, no, free and single,” said Amanda with a shy smile. “How about you? Erh…Wife, I mean.”

“No, there’s just me. My company has just moved me out here and rented this house until I can find somewhere more permanent.”

The conversation came to an abrupt end when Bobby, suddenly bored, dragged on his mother’s sleeve.

“I… I’ll see you around?” said Amanda, hopefully. “Merry Christmas.”

The rest of Christmas Day passed with the usual traditional festivities. As evening drew in there was a rattle at the letterbox and a Christmas card dropped onto the mat. Amanda picked it up. Ripping open the envelope she pulled out a comical card showing a mischievous reindeer throwing a snowball at Santa. It was from Mark. It wished her and Bobby a merry Christmas and there was a little message added to the end, which read, “Amanda – You’re never too old.”  Amanda blushed.

“What’s that love,” asked Amanda’s mum coming up to her side.

“Oh, its just a Christmas card from Mark, the guy next door.”

“That’s nice,” said her mum. “What’s that bit? Never too old, what does that mean?”

Amanda knew exactly what Mark meant, not too old to be spanked! She swallowed nervously. “Oh, I expect he just means no one is too old to enjoy Christmas.”

Mum could see Amanda was hiding something but she decided discretion was the best policy. She just smiled and nodded.

Boyfriends had always proved a major disappointment to Amanda. Unreliable, untrustworthy, wanting nothing more than a quick tumble in the sack or running away when they found she was a single mum. There was something different about Mark, there had been an instant rapport as though she had known him for years. She felt relaxed and comfortable with him. But did he feel the same way? Was he a soul mate or was she kidding herself and seeing him through the rose tinted spectacles of wishful thinking? There was one way to find out.

Early Boxing Day morning Amanda awoke with mischief on her mind. With her parents watching Bobby, she pulled on leggings and a chunky jumper and wondered around to Mark’s house. She was going to either cement her relationship with Mark or make the most embarrassing mistake of her life. She cautiously approached the front door and after a moment’s hesitation, knocked quickly. She backed away a few feet and scooped up a handful of fresh snow. When Mark opened the door wearing a bathrobe, he was greeted for the second time this Christmas by an icy snowball exploding in his face.

Amanda could not have delivered her message more clearly if she had hung a sign around her neck saying, “I’m a brat. Spank me!”

“What the…” spluttered Mark. He wiped his eyes with his sleeve and as his vision cleared he could hear Amanda giggling. “Right!” he said. Ignoring the icy snow biting at his bare toes, he strode out into the garden. Amanda backed away. Her emotions tumbled through a complex mixture of fear and excitement.

“A snowball? Again?” grinned Mark. “Didn’t I tell you you’re not too old to be spanked?

“Brave words for a man in his pyjamas,” said Amanda, stooping to scoop up more snow.

Mark rushed towards her and she squealed and dropped the snow. Before she could turn and run, Mark caught her wrist and bent to wrap an arm around her legs. In a second she was hauled kicking over his shoulder.

“Put me down, put me down,” laughed Amanda. “Someone will see us.”

Mark ignored her protests and carried her into the house. He kicked the door shut and dropped her, giggling, onto the couch.

“Are you really going to spank me?” asked Amanda.

“I think we both know the answer to that” Mark answered. He sat on the couch next to her and patted his knees. Amanda’s eyes sparkled excitedly and with a mischievous grin she crawled happily over his lap.

Mark took hold of Amanda’s waist with his left hand and sliding his right hand along her thigh and over the perfect rounds of her toned bottom, he pushed her jumper up out of the way. He paused to enjoy the moment. Amanda looked back over her shoulder.

“Well? Are you going to smack it or just stare at it?”

“Okay,” said Mark. “You asked for it.” He delivered a tentative smack to Amanda’s right cheek and matched it quickly with one to the left. She shuffled a little on his lap. The next smack was delivered harder and the next harder still. A fifth smack was delivered with force and Amanda gave a little cry and fluttered her feet. Mark started spanking in a regular rhythm, alternating cheeks and building up an excruciating fire.

“Mmmm… Spank me harder,” mumbled Amanda.

Mark raised his hand higher and smacked harder.

“No! Harder!” said Amanda.

Mark picked up the pace and really started to whack his hand down, powering from the shoulder and stinging his palm. Amanda started to writhe around on his lap.

“Harder!” she screamed. “Really hard!”

Mark took a tighter grip on her waist and started to deliver a furious attack on her upturned bottom. Amanda grabbed a cushion and buried her face into it. She raised her bottom, angling her hips to ensure each smack of Mark’s hand delivered a pleasure filled thrill to the erogenous lower half of her cheeks.

Suddenly, with three final hard smacks, the spanking stopped. Amanda lay still, breathing heavily, allowing the pleasure to flood through her as her bottom burned. Mark shook his hand and blew cool air against it. His engorged manhood was hot and hard, pressing into Amanda’s belly.

Amanda climbed unsteadily to her feet, turned and eased herself down to sit on Mark’s knee, her flushed face inches away from his and her eyes damp with tears.

“Thank you,” she whispered. Her lips parted slightly and her eyes closed. Mark pulled her to him and they kissed.

“Bed?” said Mark.

Amanda smiled nervously. “You…You’re going to hate me,” she said, “but I have to get back and see to Bobby.”

Mark smiled understandingly and gave her a squeeze. “How about dinner,” he said, “tonight?”

Amanda grinned. “Love to,” she said.

At seven-o-clock Amanda returned once again to Mark’s house. Now dressed in her little black dress, favouring style and sex appeal over protection from the bitter night air, she shivered as she approached the door. Mark greeted her with a smile, and perhaps a little relief that her arrival wasn’t preceded by another snowball attack.

Dinner was fantastic, convincing Amanda even more that Mark really was her dream man. Mark poured a couple of generous brandies and they sank together onto the couch.

“I see you can still sit down,” he said, “after this morning’s little adventure.”

Amanda smiled naughtily. She put down her brandy and ran a finger down Mark’s chest. “That was a pretty good spanking,” she said. “Good enough for accidentally hitting you with a snowball yesterday. But this morning was no accident. I was a very bad girl so what are you going to do about that?”

Mark put down his brandy and gently kissed Amanda. “What do you think I should do?”

Amanda reached down into a shoulder bag by her feet and pulled out a large wooden hairbrush. She offered it to Mark. “This is what Santa brought for me this Christmas. I guess I’m on the naughty list.”

Mark laughed. “Well,” he said, “I’m not going to argue with Santa.” He accepted the brush and tapped it against his hand. “Looks like you’re going back over my knee.”

Mark put aside the hairbrush and with Amanda once again face down across his lap, he ran his hand over her soft curves where her short black dress clung to the contours of her waist and bottom. Slipping his hand under the hem of her dress, he started to gently push the material up out of the way. Amanda lifted her hips a little, allowing him to uncover her bottom and slide the dress up to her waist. She felt cool air caressing her cheeks where her flesh peeked out from either side of her white silk panties, especially chosen for tonight.

Mark stroked her round cheeks in light circular movements before moving to the waistband of her panties. Amanda lifted her hips again allowing the flimsy material to be slipped sensuously over her bottom and down her thighs.  She trembled with the anticipation of what was to come.

Mark picked up the hairbrush and took a firm hold of Amanda’s waist. Amanda flinched and a thrill ran through her body as he stroked the hard wood over her bare cheeks, exciting her. There was a momentary pause as he raised the brush, one second, two seconds… heightening her anticipation, then, without warning, fire exploded across her right cheek. A second later an equally delicious sting blasted her left cheek. Amanda squeezed her thighs together and curled her legs, allowing the rich pleasure-pain to wash over her. She raised her hips and three more smacks landed in quick succession, causing her hand to fly back, an instinctive reaction to protect her bottom. Mark put down the brush. He moved her hand aside and tenderly stroked the hot flesh where her cheeks were starting to blush. Amanda moaned softly and writhed a little. Mark slipped his hands under her arms and reached around to cup her breasts through the thin material of her dress, squeezing and stimulating her.

Straightening up, Mark ran his fingers along her spine returning once again to her naked bottom. Amanda parted her legs a little allowing him to stroke and probe her most intimate charms, feeling the wetness of her excitement. She moaned again and pushed back against his hand, forcing a deeper penetration.

“Spank me,” she whispered. “Spank me again Mark and don’t stop.”

Mark withdrew his hand and picked up the hairbrush. He rested it again against her bottom then raising it, he began to spank her. Strong regular smacks. Amanda writhed around. Ten, twenty, Mark soon lost count as Amanda’s bottom took on a rosy glow. Each smack of the brush brought a sharp intake of breath, gradually becoming more tearful, occasionally punctuated with a yelp. As Mark picked up the pace her breathing came faster and heavier, and her writhing more frantic. Mark raised the brush to shoulder height and delivered five extra hard smacks. Amanda squealed with pleasure and scrambled off his knee, leaping to her feet and clutching her bottom.

Mark stood up and threw the brush onto the couch. He and Amanda wrapped their arms around each other and hugged tightly. Amanda could feel Marks manhood pushing against her, hot and hard and she could feel her hardened nipples pressing against his chest. Mark slipped his hands down Amanda’s back to cup her hot, still naked bottom and pulled her hips to him. They kissed again, long and passionate. He reached behind Amanda’s neck for her zip and slipped it down. Amanda backed away slightly allowing Mark to slide her dress off her shoulders. He kissed her neck, shoulder and breasts. Amanda’s panties had already fluttered to the floor and with a little shuffling her dress and bra followed. Mark started to unfasten his shirt buttons but gave it up and dragged the shirt over his head revealing his muscular, well-toned torso. Amanda reached for his belt buckle and in seconds Mark’s remaining clothes joined Amanda’s on the floor, freeing his rampant manhood. Amanda’s eyes opened wide with pleasure and she gently stroked his erection. Mark picked up the hairbrush then taking Amanda by the hand he led her to the bedroom.

Mark rolled onto the king size bed and pulled Amanda towards him. She pressed her cool hands against his chest and pushed him down into his pillow. With Mark on his back, Amanda knelt astride him and stretched out, cat like, resting her hands on his broad pectorals. Slowly she started to straighten up, gently scratching the scarlet nails of her slender fingers down his body. Mark sighed deeply. Amanda took hold of his erect manhood with both hands. She parted her deep red lips slightly, tantalisingly licked them with the tip of her tongue then lowered her mouth over it, plunging Mark into ecstasy as her tongue danced magically.

Before Mark exploded with pleasure, Amanda knelt upright and positioned herself over his hips. Slowly, sensuously she lowered herself onto his penis, allowing it to penetrate deep into her. Mark reached up and cupped her breasts, pinching and squeezing. Amanda ground her hips, gently rising and falling, her eyes closed, lost in a world of pleasure and driving Mark wild.

With Mark still inside her she slowly lowered her face towards his and kissed him, pressing her breasts to his chest and straightening her legs until she lay on top of him. Mark wrapped an arm around her waist and thrust his hips upwards. With each thrust Amanda’s bottom was lifted and Mark knew exactly what she wanted. He reached to his side and found the hairbrush. As he touched the cold wood against Amanda’s upturned bottom she almost purred. The next thrust was met with a loud smack! Amanda yelped and pressed her lips hard to Mark’s. Another thrust – another smack; faster and harder, the couple’s passion was wild. Amanda’s bottom blazed and in another moment she was drowning in wave after wave of orgasmic ecstasy; an instant later Mark followed.

The couple clung to each other until the moment was spent; both breathless and exhausted. Amanda rolled to the side and flinched as her sore bottom met the mattress. She hadn’t realised in the throes of passion just how soundly she had been spanked. She lay in the crook of Mark’s arm and gently caressed his chest. Christmas, she thought, it’s just magical. Who would have imagined when she wrote that letter to Santa that her wish would really come true; her handsome Knight, sweeping her off her feet and bringing her naughtiest dreams to life. She laughed to herself. Maybe tomorrow, she and Bobby should go and see if there really are fairies at the bottom of the garden.