Red Cheek



 
Red Cheek:
Spanking Stories
2007-11-21





RED CHEEKS



by



Dave Reston







Petite blonde, age 24, 5'2",



105 lbs., 34-22-34, loves red



cheeks - especially mine! If



you're a man who knows how to tan a



naughty girl's bottom, give me a



spanking I won't forget. Send



photo and personal info to



Box 103SM.







The ad was in a local adults-only newspaper, and as soon



as I saw it I knew I had to respond. I'd fantasized for a long



time about spanking and being spanked, and had even spent an hour



in a "dungeon" to satisfy my curiosity about whether being



spanked - hard - by a woman would be the kind of turn-on I



imagined. But I hadn't yet met a woman who wanted to be spanked.



I knew I could find someone who, for a price, would let me do



just about anything, but even if I could afford it, the idea of



paying someone to submit to pain seemed, well, immoral to me.



But here, at last, was someone who might enjoy it!







I composed a short note and sent it, with a snapshot of



myself, to the paper's box number. The note included my



telephone number, and a few days later I came home from work to



find a message on my answering machine - call Gail at the number



she mentioned. I called the number and she answered. We chatted



a few minutes without mentioning her ad, and I knew she was



trying to find out what kind of person I was, whether I might be



dangerous. I told her about my job, that I was divorced, and



why, that I had two kids who lived with their mother but spent



two weekends a month with me. Finally she seemed satisfied that



I wasn't some kind of maniac. We talked about her ad and my



letter, and eventually agreed to meet for a drink the next



evening, a Friday.







After we hung up, I inspected the "toys" I'd gathered



over the past few years - several wooden paddles of different



sizes and weights, some with padded faces and some without; small



leather straps with buckles, for restraints, and some larger



straps without buckles, for use on, shall we say, the target



area; a hairbrush from which I'd removed the bristles, so that



one side was flat and smooth and the other side covered with



small holes; and the strip of Lucite and the birch cane that had



been used regularly on me and my younger siblings, from the time



we were seven or eight years old until we reached our early



teens. I didn't know whether Gail would want me to use any of



the toys, but her ad had sounded as though she was both serious



and experienced, so I guessed that she would be up for more than



a hand spanking. I cleaned everything out of my gym bag and put



the toys in it for inconspicuous transport.







The next evening I went to the small bar Gail and I had



agreed on, and I spotted her without difficulty; unlike a lot of



people who posted personal ads, Gail had been truthful about her



attributes. She was cute without being gorgeous, with a trim,



athletic-looking body and a surprisingly good tan for someone



with such fair skin. I felt very comfortable being with her. We



had our drinks, but the place was so noisy that we couldn't have



much of a conversation, and after we'd had a second round Gail



suggested that we go over to her apartment.







As I followed her up the stairs to her second-floor flat,



gym bag in hand, I couldn't help noticing how the muscles of her



ass bunched and relaxed as climbed the steps, and speculating



about what I'd see once a couple of layers of thin cloth were out



of the way.







Gail unlocked the front door and ushered me into a neat,



well-furnished apartment. After giving me a quick tour of the



five rooms she offered me another drink. I accepted, and she



made drinks for both of us before sitting down on the living room



sofa. We looked at one another for a long time without speaking,



until I decided to break the ice by asking how she'd come to have



an interest in spanking.







She said that she had had a very strict upbringing and



had been spanked often as a child, both by her mother and by her



stepfather. A few years ago she had realized that although those



spankings had been very painful at the time, thinking about them



later was "stimulating". I asked how old she'd been when she'd



last been spanked by one of them, and learned that her mother



hadn't spanked her after she was about twelve, but that her



stepfather had continued for another couple of years. Her mother



had finally made him stop because Gail was getting "too



developed."







I asked how old she'd been when she got her first



"voluntary" spanking, and was rewarded with a blush that extended



even into her scalp. Nervously, Gail admitted that she hadn't



been spanked since she was fourteen, but hadn't wanted to sound



naive in her ad. I reassured her that I understood this was an



experiment for her, that we would proceed very gradually and go



no further than she wanted to. Privately, I doubted that I would



be opening my bag of toys.







I told Gail I would do nothing without warning her and



giving her a chance to say "no", but that I thought it would help



prepare her mentally if she got into position across my lap. She



hesitated for a moment, then gulped the last of her drink and



stood up. Sliding to the center of the sofa, I reached up and



took her hand. I pulled her gently down until she lay across my



legs; her crotch rested on my right thigh and I could feel her



boobs pressing against the outside of my left thigh. Without



saying anything, I ran my hand slowly over the seat of her pants



and felt her whole body tremble.







Keeping my hand on her ass, I asked her to tell me more



about her childhood spankings. Her mother, she said, usually



used a hard-soled bedroom slipper or a yardstick; her stepfather



had used his hairbrush when she was younger and his belt after



she was ten or eleven. Quick, impulsive spankings might be



administered wherever she happened to be when the cause arose,



and would be given through whatever clothing she was wearing.



Spankings like that were frightening because they were often



accompanied by rage, and embarrassing if her friends were around,



but not particularly painful because she was protected by



clothing and because the spankings were generally brief.







Serious spankings, Gail said, were administered in her



bedroom and were much more painful. Regardless of the time of



day, she would be sent to her room with instructions to remove



all her clothing and put on her nightgown, and would then be left



to contemplate the impending punishment for anywhere from ten



minutes to an hour. I stroked Gail's back with one hand and her



ass with the other as she spoke, and could feel her arching her



pelvis to push her asscheeks against my hand.







If her mother were going to do the spanking, Gail



continued, she would have Gail pull her nightgown up to her waist



and lie face down on her bed with her knees bent and her toes on



the floor. Her mother would then apply the slipper or the



yardstick to Gail's bare bottom. Most of her mother's spankings



consisted of no more than two dozen strokes, unless Gail moved;



her mother made no attempt to hold Gail in place, but if she



moved she would be ordered back into position and her mother



would start over. I slid my hand down the back of first one of



Gail's thighs and then the other as she described the way her



mother had spanked her, and noted appreciatively that her legs



parted as I touched her.







Moving my hand back to her ass, I asked Gail what had



been different about the spankings her stepfather had given her.



One difference, she said, was that he always made her take her



nightgown off, so that she was totally naked. When he intended



to use his hairbrush, he would sit on the edge of her bed and



make her lie across his lap, just as she was lying across mine



now. I could imagine the scene perfectly, seeing her naked body



trembling the same way it shuddered fully clothed under my hands



now. Her stepfather would spank her quickly ten or fifteen times



with his hairbrush, lecture her while her cries subsided, and



then repeat the spanking. Generally he would do this five or six



times, leaving her with bruises that lasted several days.







Once he began using his belt instead of the hairbrush,



her stepfather required Gail to kneel on the bed, head down and



bottom up in the air. She was required to count each lash out



loud, and if she moved the whipping would start over. Her



stepfather usually gave her ten lashes without stopping, covering



the backs of her thighs as well as her bottom, and then gave her



a minute or two before the next set. After two or three sets,



especially in the final year or two, he would make her spread her



knees far apart and would lash the insides of her thighs as well



as the backs. I asked whether her stepfather touched her, with



anything other than his belt, while she was in the spanking



position, and Gail blushed deeply again as she told me he'd never



touched her sexually, although he sometimes prodded her to make



her move to a different position.







Gail was breathing raggedly as she spoke, the words



tumbling out. I doubted that she had ever told these stories to



anyone before, and if she had told anyone, I was willing to bet



that the listener hadn't been able to see - as I could - how wet



the crotch of her pants had become.







"All right, Gail," I told her. "I think I understand the



significance this has to you. I'm going to spank you in just a



minute" - I felt her ass harden under my palm - "but first I want



to explain something to you." She sighed and relaxed.







"The problem with most voluntary spankings is that the



person being spanked knows how to make it stop. When you were a



kid, you didn't have that kind of control - your mother or your



stepfather kept on spanking until they were done, no matter



whether you thought you'd had enough or not. And that's the way



it's going to be when I spank you."







"But what if -", Gail started to ask in alarm.







"Wait a minute, let me finish," I said firmly. "That



doesn't mean you have no say in the matter. Before I do



anything, I'll tell you what I'm going to do, and we'll agree on



how many you'll get. If you don't agree, I won't do anything at



all, but once you agree, it will be too late to change your mind,



and I won't stop until the agreed number unless I decide you've



had too many. Now, how does that sound to you?"







She was silent for a moment. "All right, I guess," she



said slowly. "But what if it just hurts too much?"







"That's what will make it seem real," I replied. "And



the next time, if you want, we can agree on a smaller number."







"O.K.," she said shakily, "I sure hope I don't regret



this."







"You won't," I assured her. "Now, since it's been a long



time for you, we'll start very gently. We'll leave your pants



on, and I'll just use my hand. How many of those shall I give



you?"







Gail thought for a moment. "How about five?" she said



tentatively.







"How about ten?" I responded. We settled on seven, and I



shifted her slightly to make sure her ass was directly above my



thigh. I raised my hand and said, "O.K., here we go!"







I brought my open palm down sharply on the clenched



muscles of her right asscheek. Gail expelled her breath swiftly



but made no other sound. I gave her a matching smack on the left



side, and followed up with another on the left before she could



clench that cheek again. The seven spanks took only ten seconds



or so, and Gail gave no indication that she found them hard to



take.







"Those didn't hurt much, did they? How about fifteen



more?" I asked.







"O.K.", she answered. "I think I can handle that."







I resumed without any warning, and the first swat



provoked a small yelp of surprise. The last three spanks of that



set elicited short moans, but nothing that sounded as though Gail



were in real pain.







"All right," I announced, "I think it's time to make



things a little more realistic. Let's get those pants out of the



way."







Gail stood up stiffly, unzipped her slacks and pulled



them off. She looked at me questioningly, obviously wondering if



I intended her to remove her bikini panties as well.







"Leave those on, for now," I smiled, "but why don't you



take your blouse off and save some time later?" She had to



realize that meant that I expected all of her clothes to be off



before we finished, but the idea didn't seem to bother her. She



unbuttoned her blouse and dropped it on top of her slacks. Then,



wearing only her bra and a pair of pale blue nylon



panties - neither of which left a great deal to my



imagination - she draped herself across my lap again.







Her bikini panties exposed a lot of skin, and I could see



that her ass was as firm and well-shaped as I'd guessed. It was



also slightly tinged with pink from the gentle spanking she'd had



so far; it would be pinker after the next set.







"I'm still going to use my hand," I told her. "You're



more exposed now, but you've also gotten used to the feeling, so



why don't we start with twenty?" We settled on fifteen, and I



agreed to warn her before the first.







I gave her the warning and landed a hard swat in the



middle of her left asscheek, being careful to center the blow



over the nylon-covered area. The sound echoed loudly and my hand



stung, so I knew her ass did too, but Gail reacted only with a



sharp gasp. I continued briskly, gradually letting the spanks



land more on bare skin and less on nylon. She was squirming by



the time I gave her the fifteenth spank, but her movements seemed



more designed to grind her pubic bone against my thigh than to



avoid the force of my slaps.







We had reached a critical point. I had to decide whether



to remove the last of Gail's clothing and continue spanking her



by hand, or to introduce her to my toys. Much as I wanted to see



her totally nude, it seemed to me that she was less likely to



fear my toys if she still had the protection - more psychological



than physical - of her panties when I introduced them, so I told



her to get up and hand me my gym bag.







I put the bag on the coffee table in front of us and



unzipped it. Then I told Gail to take everything out. She



examined each paddle and strap carefully before laying it out on



the coffee table. When she had finished, I told her to choose



the one she wanted me to use.







"Couldn't you just spank me some more with your hand?"



she asked. "I mean, your hand was really starting to sting, and



those things look like they could really hurt."







"I'll do whatever you want," I told her, "but I think



you're ready for more than just my hand. You want to see how a



real spanking will feel."







"I guess you're right." She selected the lightest paddle



and handed it to me. It was a good choice. I knew from personal



experience that it would sting, but any pain would disappear



within a few minutes.







Gail settled back across my lap but didn't relax the way



she had before. I stroked her ass and the backs of her thighs,



assuring her that the paddle was only a small step away from the



hand spankings she'd endured so easily. Most of the tension left



her body, but I could tell that her asscheeks were still tight.



I asked her how many she wanted to start with, and she suggested



five. I countered with fifteen, and we agreed on ten. I raised



the paddle and told her to relax; my words, of course, had the



opposite effect.







I landed the paddle sharply on the panty-covered part of



her right asscheek. Gail jumped and said "Oh!", but made no



other sound. Nine more spanks landed quickly. I alternated from



cheek to cheek, and she jerked each time the paddle landed but



remained silent.







"Well, what do you think?", I asked after the tenth



stroke.







"It didn't hurt as much as I'd been afraid it would. In



fact," she admitted, "it felt good, even better than your hand."







"I thought you'd say that," I commented. I was elated,



because I was sure now that she could handle a more extensive



session with any of my toys. "Let's go a little farther this



time." Without explaining my comment I rolled her panties down



until they were stretched tight across her thighs, just below the



jutting cheeks of her ass.







Gooseflesh rippled across the pale skin of her ass as



Gail realized that she was completely unprotected for the first



time. Her cheeks were a mottled pink, but that color would



disappear within an hour if we stopped now. "I'll use the same



paddle, but I think you should have 25 this time."







Gail agreed readily, but clenched her asscheeks together



as I raised the paddle. I swung it harder this time, landing



blows at random. With 25 spanks to work with I managed to cover



most of each cheek. For the first fifteen or so the only sound



was the slapping of the paddle, but then I began to hear an



"Ooh!" or an "Unh!" each time the paddle landed.







I finished the 25th and Gail sagged against me. "Oh,



God!" she exclaimed. "That was starting to remind me of a real



spanking, the kind I used to get!" Her ass was showing some



redness, but I was sure it would be considerably redder before I



left her apartment.







I ran my hands appreciatively over her silk-smooth skin.



"Would you like to take a break now, or shall we go ahead with



another step?" I inquired.







Gail thought for a moment. "Um, I'd like another drink



in a few minutes, but first -" She pushed herself up into a



kneeling position, then turned to rummage through the implements



on the coffee table. Rolled down as they were, her panties still



covered most of her crotch, but it was obvious that she was



either a natural blonde or had a very intimate relationship with



her hairdresser.







After hefting each of my paddles, Gail chose an oval-



shaped one with leather facings and handed it to me. "Why don't



you give me, oh, twenty with that one?" She lowered her body



across my lap, but kept part of her weight on her knees to thrust



her rump upward invitingly.







"Twenty you shall have," I responded. I didn't suggest a



larger number, because the paddle she'd chosen was quite a bit



heavier than the first one, and I knew from personal experience



that twenty strokes with that would do more than just "remind"



her of a real spanking.







I tugged her panties down a little further to create an



unobstructed path to the base of each asscheek and raised the



paddle. "Ready?", I asked.







"Ready," she replied confidently. The right cheek



flattened under the impact of the paddle and she let out a



surprised yelp. I followed up quickly with another swat on the



left side, then moved back to the right, avoiding the bright red



blotch left by the first stroke. I wasn't swinging the paddle



with anything like my full strength, but I wasn't being gentle



either, and Gail let me know she was feeling the spanks: "OW!"



"AAAH!" "Ouch!" "Hurts!" "OH!"







She was no longer thrusting her ass toward the paddle; I



felt her full weight on my thigh as she rolled from side to side,



trying to make sure she wouldn't get two spanks in a row in the



same spot if I failed to select a new target. Her ass was



thoroughly reddened by the time I spanked her for the 20th time



and put the paddle down. She lay panting after I finished, still



rocking slightly from side to side.







"Wow!", Gail exclaimed at last, "I'm glad I didn't tell



you thirty!"







I rubbed the burning mounds gently. "You could have



taken thirty, though, or even forty, you know," I commented.







Gail got to her feet. "Oh, I know I could, I can take



lots more than you've given me so far, but I'm glad you've done



it so gradually. If you had pushed me too fast, I'd be afraid to



try any thing more." She collected our glasses and walked into



the kitchen, the rolled strand of sky blue nylon around her



thighs contrasting dramatically with the bright red of her



bottom.







She was back a couple of minutes later, with fresh drinks



for both of us. She sat down on the sofa and we talked for



several minutes. I asked how she felt about what we'd done so



far. She said that the last set were the only spanks that had



hurt while she was getting them, and that now she felt very



tingly and excited; she hoped I wasn't going to stop now.







I assured her that I wasn't going to stop, and as we



finished our drinks I told her I thought the time had come for



her to go in her bedroom and put on her nightgown, and I would



meet her there in a few minutes. Gail got to her feet and



started for the bedroom.







"Wait," I told her. I surveyed the instruments on the



coffee table and decided on the strip of Lucite; it was a little



more than an inch wide, a quarter of an inch thick and about 18



inches long. It was more like her mother's yardstick than



anything else I had, although the Lucite was heavier than wood.







"When I come in," I continued, "I'm going to give you 25



with this." I held up the clear plastic strip. "You can think



about how that's going to feel while you're changing."







Gail swallowed hard, then nodded and turned back toward



her bedroom. I waited until I heard a toilet flush and a door



open and another one close, then went in search of the bathroom



myself--four drinks had made the need rather urgent. While I was



in there I opened a drawer and found the package I'd expected. I



pocketed one of the items in it, then went back to the living



room. I repacked my gym bag and sat down to wait.







After giving Gail ten minutes to change and have second



thoughts if she wanted to, I picked up the Lucite strip and the



gym bag and walked to her bedroom. The door was ajar and I



pushed it open and went in, then closed the door and locked it



behind me. Gail was lying face down with most of her legs



hanging off the foot of the bed. She was wearing a pale blue



nightgown, the same color as her panties, but the nightgown was



short enough to make it obvious that she was no longer wearing



the panties. Her legs were spread slightly and I could feel



myself getting hard as I gazed at the honey-colored thatch



revealed by the short gown.







I walked over to the bed put the gym bag on the floor



next to it. Without a word I pulled the nightgown up until the



hem crossed the middle of her back. Gail spread her legs a



little wider and clenched the cheeks of her magnificent ass. The



redness had faded to a uniform shade of pink.







"Are you ready for the 25 I promised you?" I demanded.







"Yes," she almost whispered.







"All right. Remember, now, if you move I'll start over,"



I warned. The muscles in her arms tightened as she grabbed the



bedspread with both hands.







I raised the Lucite strip and brought it down quickly



across the fullest part of both cheeks. Gail gave a sharp yelp



of pain, the loudest sound she'd made yet. I swatted her again,



lower on the right cheek, and settled into a rhythm of one spank



about every second and a half. Gail didn't move but she gave



some kind of cry as each stroke landed.







"Oh! Ow! Aaah! Ouch! Please! Mama! Oooh! Hurts!"



Her cries became louder but less coherent as I gave her last



seven or eight spanks, but still she made no effort to move or



dodge the plastic strip.







By the time I finished her arms were trembling from the



effort she was putting into clutching the bedspread and her ass



was criss-crossed with straight-sided red blotches, but the outer



lips of her pussy were glistening. I laid the Lucite paddle down



and sat down next to Gail's prone figure. I stroked her ass



gently, and she moaned and relaxed her grip on the bedspread as



her legs moved even further apart. I continued rubbing the



overheated mounds of firm flesh but declined the clear invitation



to slide my hand between her legs; that could come later, if she



really wanted it.







"Oh, yes," she sighed, "your hand feels so good! I wish



my mom had rubbed me like that after a spanking."







"Did that feel like the real thing?" I asked.







"It did, and then again it didn't. I mean, it really



hurt, just like the spankings I used to get, and yet it wasn't



unbearable the way they used to be. Maybe it was because I knew



when you were going to stop, but you really got me excited."







The glistening lips of her pussy, and the expanding wet



spot on the bedspread beneath Gail's crotch, proved the accuracy



of that statement. My engorged cock threatened to tear through



the front of my slacks, and I stood up to ease the pressure.







"All right," I told her, "I think its time you got a real



strapping. Take your nightgown off and kneel on the bed."







I turned away to find my gym bag and selected the



heaviest leather strap. It was a little narrower than the razor



strap that I'd experienced as a kid, but it was both thick and



supple, and I was sure it would get Gail's undivided attention.







By the time I turned back to the bed, Gail was nude and



kneeling in the position she'd described earlier. With her head



and shoulders on the bed, her distended nipples grazed the



bedspread despite the firmness of her breasts. Her knees were



clenched tightly together, but even so the swollen lips of her



pussy protruded between her tanned thighs.







I showed her the leather strap. "To start with, I'm



going to give you ten strokes with this; is that what you want?"







She nodded mutely, and I saw the muscles of her ass



tighten involuntarily.







"You know how it works," I reminded her. "You count each



stroke out loud. If you don't count, neither does the stroke,



and if you move, we'll start over. Is that clear?"







Again she bobbed her head wordlessly. I still had a



raging hard-on, and Gail's dripping pussy was like a bull's eye



in the middle of the beautiful target in front of me, but I knew



she wouldn't be satisfied until she'd relived one of her



stepfather's strappings.







I took half a step backward and raised the strap. Using



a side-arm motion I swung it, medium-hard, so that the last four



or five inches of the leather landed low on the outside of Gail's



right asscheek. Gail swayed to her left and let out her first



real scream of pain, but she didn't forget to gasp out a "one!"



I landed the strap again, this time in the middle of the right



cheek, provoking another yell and a strangled "two!"







The third and forth lashes landed on the left cheek,



requiring a backhanded motion. I may not have been able to swing



the strap with quite the same force, but each blow left the kind



of wide crimson stripe that the forehand strokes had. The next



four, administered about two seconds apart, descended diagonally,



landing near the top of one cheek and cutting across to end low



on the other cheek. The final two I placed across the backs of



Gail's thighs, resulting in cries of real agony - but except for



swaying from side to side, she never moved and never missed in



her counting.







Laying the strap down, I knelt on the bed beside Gail.



She leaned against me and moaned as I stroked her blazing ass.



The backs of her thighs were wet and slippery with the juices



from her pussy, and I was ready to stop the spanking and plunge



my fingers into her hot tunnel. She stiffened as my hand brushed



her outer lips, though, and whispered "No, I want the rest!"







I stood up and Gail spread her knees far apart, arching



her back to keep her ass high in the air. Her tumescent clit



jutted from between puffy labia as I picked up the leather strap.



She obviously wanted a real strapping, and I would give her one.







"This time you're going to get twenty," I told her, "and



if you move I'll start over from the beginning - including the



ten you've already had. Are you ready?"







I waited for her to nod, then swung the strap - hard. As



I had intended, the last few inches of the strap smacked into the



inside of her left thigh, just below the gaping lips of her



pussy. A thin scream forced its way past Gail's clenched teeth,



but she stayed in position. A backhand stroke left a broad



matching welt on the inside of her right thigh, and again Gail



cried out but didn't move.







Spacing the strokes about five seconds apart, I proceeded



to lash Gail's ass and the backs and insides of her thighs. By



the time I'd given her ten she had arched her back even further,



thrusting her hips higher into the air and rolling them from side



to side each time the strap landed. By the twentieth, all of her



skin that was visible, from just above her knees to the tops of



her asscheeks was a nearly uniform fiery red, streaked with her



pussy juices that the strap had spread.







I dropped the strap on the floor and started gently to



stroke Gail's blazing skin. She moaned and shuddered. "Please,"



she whispered urgently, "fuck me, hurry, please!"







I needed no urging. Stepping out of my shoes, I loosened



my belt and pulled my slacks and jockey shorts off with one hand,



while retrieving and unwrapping the condom I'd found in Gail's



bathroom with the other hand. I rolled the condom onto my



throbbing prick and slid it into her waiting pussy.







She came the first time almost instantly, and shared my



orgasm only a minute or two later. As her second orgasm passed



Gail collapsed forward on the bed and I sank down on her back,



still trapped in her pussy and gasping for breath as she was. I



kissed the back of her neck, her shoulder blades, her ears,



feeling the hot cheeks of her ass pressed hard against the front



of my thighs.







A few minutes later I clambered to my feet and staggered



into the bathroom, where I found a pump bottle of skin lotion and



palmed another condom. Gail was still lying face down on the bed



when I came back and began rubbing lotion gently into her bruised



skin. Within a few minutes we were both thoroughly aroused



again. Gail rolled the condom into place this time, and we made



love slowly and tenderly, face to face with Gail on top.







Afterward, as we lay half waking and half sleeping, Gail



murmured "I hope we can do this again."







"Which do you mean?" I asked, "the spanking or the love-



making."







"Both," she sighed. "I mean, I wouldn't want to be



spanked every time I made love, but I've never felt anything like



I felt when you first slid inside me. I guess I've wanted to be



spanked and fucked for a long time."







"I've waited a long time to find someone who wanted to be



spanked," I told her, "and I'm really glad it turns you on. Just



looking at you turns me on, and I'd never want to hurt you."







"Oh, you didn't, at least no more than I wanted. Next



time, though, I'd like to start in here and forget the



preliminaries. There will be a next time, won't there?"







I assured her that there would be as many next times as



she wanted.

 



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