No the picture's not me but it kind of illustrates what caused me to get a very hot bottom.
I don't have any jeans with designer rips in them and if I took some scissors to a decent pair of jeans I'm sure I'd make a mess of them, then I'd cut a bit more to try and improve the damage and then I'd probably do a bit of tearing to try and make it look natural and of course
it wouldn't work at all and I'd just end up with one less pair of jeans.
Anyway I'm digressing. The girl in the picture obviously has stockings on under her jeans and I did too when we were rearranging some wall pictures to make space for one humongous wall mounted flat screen. Ridiculous really, our old Sony flat is perfectly good except for one thin orange line which appears vertically about a third of the way across the screen depending on the background. Our son can have it in his room if he wants it, otherwise the scrap man. We were going to paint the wall too while the pictures were down.
I wore a pair of tights with bold seams under my jeans, no knickers, and heels. Impractical of course but we had the house to ourselves, my husband was still in festive mood and I was feeling horny.
He noticed. When I bent forward or stretched, my jeans raised and exposed hose covered ankle.
"Have you got stockings on?"
"No, P."
"Well they look like stockings. And why wear heels, we'd get this lot sorted much quicker if you were dressed practically."
"I know we would."
"Come here." I did and he reached down and felt my ankle, rubbing his thumb appreciatively up and down the black seam.
"You have got stockings on, you naughty girl," he said as he stood and moved his hand over my thigh seeking the tell tale suspender fastener, "so where's the suspender?"
I didn't answer. He told me to stay there, he'd be back in a minute. He had our Leatherthorn paddle with him when he returned and he undid my jeans and put his hand inside. He didn't say anything, just Mmmm'd as he pulled them down and told me to step out of them. I had to kick my heels off to do it but he told me to put them back on. Then he sat on the sofa and pulled me across his lap. He told me it was entrapment, which made me laugh, he said it was true, I was making him do something he wouldn't normally be doing. I said it wasn't an offence though and he said I might change that opinion after ten minutes.
Then he started walloping me. It felt lovely to start with, I hadn't had the paddle for ages, and I'd never been spanked in heels. Nor tights, at least not for the whole of the spanking. It got hotter, very hot actually and I think the tights keep the heat in, they certainly don't provide any protection. About halfway through P stopped and fished his nokia from his pocket for a quick snap. He said the screen didn't show anywhere near the true redness, he'd try to improve it and then he resumed spanking. The loveliness and sexiness wore away during the second half, my heels flew off in the struggling and I was just feeling very naughty, which I suppose was quite right as I had set out to provoke, entice, entrap, call it whatever, my husband into dealing with me when we should have been doing other things.
When he stopped I gasped a sigh of relief, he snapped again with his nokia and showed me both images. I thought he'd made marks on me but he said it was just the pantyhose ruffling. I said "How unglamorous."
"There's nothing glamorous about a good spanking," said my husband sternly, "now put your jeans back on and let's get this job finished."
God, I was already starting to feel horny again but I thought I'd better do as I was told. This time I put my slippers on not the heels. The unglamorous snaps below are me by the way, you don't see me very often, I think P was right about the redness it doesn't look half like it felt.
Ronnie
xx
