In Hot Water

"Mmm, good point. I wonder if I should say hello to that lifeguard after practice. We already know who he'snotinto!" She leaned over and delivered a hard slap to Mamta's ample rear, making the girl squeak in pain and almost lose her balance. Several girls laughed.

Growling in frustration in rage, Mamta pulled her swimsuit back up and marched back the way she came. She wasnotgoing to put up with this. She'd wait in the hall that connected the locker rooms to the pool until the other girls had all gone. She didn't care how long it took. Mamta stood in a corner in the damp hall and closed her eyes, struggling for happy memories to fill her mind with and drown out the sounds of showers and gossip and vapid giggles from the next room.

Finally, the last of the showers turned off, and she heard her beloved peers finish their exit. Breathing deeply, Mamta went back into the locker room, shed her ill-fitting suit, and turned on a shower. It was a struggle to find the right temperature; at first, the hot water stung her pinkened buns and made her wince and hiss with pain. Then it was too cold, and she danced involuntarily out of the water's reach. Finally, she managed to hit a happy-ish medium that was warm but not hot, and stood under it.

As the warm water came down on her face and gently cascaded down her smooth body, she closed her eyes and let her mind wander. The sting in her butt seemed to have crept through her torso, and was now causing a tantalizing little prickle in her womanhood. She whined softly to herself as she wrung out her hair, bringing her left hand downward and pushing at the front of her vulva. A lusty tingle rewarded her touch as she found her mind's eye rest itself on Andy. The way he looked and smiled at her, the way he shamelessly flirted with her earlier in the practice. Warm water coated her skin, giving her a sense of isolation and privacy. Slowly, she crept her hand further down her front...

A strong, masculine arm wrapped itself around her middle, pulling her naked body against a wall of hard, hot muscle. She started to yelp as her soft bottom was pressed painfully against a male body, but another hand clamped itself over her mouth. She tried to struggle, but his arms were like iron bars under a layer of rugged skin. She kicked her legs in a futile attempt to flee as he dragged her out of the shower and toward one of the benches. As he half-carried her across the room, she managed to turn her head up and catch a glimpse of her attacker's face. Andy's dark eyes were full of determination, his face showing exertion as he steered her to their destination. Mamta felt her heart go crazy.

With a strained grunt, he sat down on the changing bench and pulled the half-struggling Mamta over his lap. His trunks were tight around his crotch, and she felt something iron-hard pushing into her belly through them. Knowing what was coming, she gritted her teeth and clutched the tile floor. Andy pushed her torso a little further over his knees, putting her ponderous, glistening-wet cheeks right over the edge of his lap, so that they pointed at the ceiling. He admired their bounce for just a second, and then started the spanking.

His hand was like sandpaper against her pink, paddled buttocks, rasping and burning her flesh with each loud, wet slap. The sound as his palm connected with her wet, rosy cheeks was like a firecracker echoing in the enclosed locker room, and the pain exploded and sparked in the wake of each smack. Left sit spot, right sit spot, left, right, left right...he spanked her harder and faster than she had ever experienced.

"Ahh! Ohga...I...ahhhh!"

Her voice got higher and higher pitched as she futiley begged and wriggled, but she was careful not to be too loud. The forest fire in her bottom was back, and with a vengeance! She couldn't yelp fast enough to keep up with the spanks, couldn't wriggle in any way that would diffuse the pain. She was helpless, bound in place, as her bottom just hurt more, and more, and more...

Andy's arm had to be getting tired, and his palm was certainly in pain, but he had the willpower to ignore these obstacles. He spanked on and on, faster than the second hand of the clock, exploding volley after volley of fireworks against her bouncing fanny. Her sit spots were red, red like ripe strawberries or lustrous tomatoes, and the rest of her bottom ranged from something just shy of that to hot pink as the layers of sore handprints piled on top of each other. He kept his left arm pressed hard on her back, and his right rising and falling, until the juiciest parts of her ample rear were a shade that bordered on purple and she was almost on the brink of tears. Then, before she lost control and started screaming loud enough to be heard outside of the room, he stopped. She kept writhing and panting over his lap, her abused bottom completely dried off.

"Andy..." she begged, her voice barely a whisper, "Now, right now!"

"Of course," he whispered back, playing with her wet, black hair. His voice was low and gravelly. "Over the bench."

Mamta stumbled to her feet and bent over the end of the bench, sticking her red and pink ass up at him. Andy lost no time in scrambling around behind her and - having ditched his trunks at some point - sliding his impressive length of rock-hard penis into Mamta's eager socket. Mamta gasped as he pumped his hips into her spanked ass, pushing down on her back and forcing her chest against the bench. The sex was fast, furious. Mamta reached around behind her, grabbing his taut bottom and pushing and slapping it to make him work harder. Andy grabbed a handful of hair from the back of her scalp and pulled, making her look up at the ceiling and gasp, as he thrusted deeper and deeper into her slick vagina.

Andy didn't seem to notice when she had her first orgasm; even as she lolled her head back and clamped a hand over her mouth to keep herself quiet, he didn't lose speed. Her second climax was stronger, building on the afterglow of the first as she rose on a wave of pleasure above the agony in her bottom. She was almost ready for a third orgasm when Andy stopped, his body shuddering, and she felt a spasmodic twitch inside of her as his penis erupted.

The two of them lay, panting, on the changing bench, his penis slowly retracting from her as it shrank back into flaccidity. The bench under her crotch was wet with her emissions; they'd have to clean it off thoroughly before they left. Slowly, her boyfriend of three months brought a hand back to her head and slowly massaged at her neck and chin. She moaned weakly, enjoying his touch.

"You," Andy said huskily between deep pants, "are completely insane."

Mamta giggled. "Didn't we plan it together?"

"I didn't think you were going to do it on the first day of the damned schoolyear," he said, almost indignantly, "and I really didn't think you were going to physically assault one of your teammates."

"Those girls are bitches," Mamta said bitterly, "if it weren't for you, they'd have kept me off the team."

He rolled his eyes. "Oh, I know. They're just jealous of you. Your intelligence, your sophistication, your looks. Heh, one of them tried to flirt with me after practice."

Mamta purred at his compliments. They always did wonders for her self-confidence.

"But...slapping them across the face? Even if they're bullies, that's kinda..."

Mamta grinned mischievously. "I know. She totally deserved it, but I shouldn't have done that." Silently, Mamta really did enjoy the irony of her current situation. She could do whatever she wanted to those horrible girls during swim practice, and she'd be rewarded for it with the kind of sexy, public paddlings she had fantasized about for years. But yeah, slapping someone in the face was kind of not okay; she'd be more subtle in her mischief from now on.

"Oooh," she murmured, changing the subject, "my ass is on fire."

Andy chuckled, straightening up to massage her big butt with both hands. "Mmhmm," he hummed unsympathetically.

Mamta closed her eyes and enjoyed the attention her nude Adonis of a boyfriend was applying to her ravaged rear. She had met Andy a few weeks after her family moved to town. They had been sure to keep their relationship a secret, as Mamta wasn't sure what would give her parents a worse heart attack; the fact that she had lost her virginity before getting married, or the fact that she had lost it to a non-Hindu. It was fortunate that she was eighteen, so she could get The Pill without them being informed.

"You should get back to the pool," she mentioned after a pleasant minute.

"There's still a few minutes until the open swim, and I doubt Bartelli cares where I went. Mmm, you'resosexy." His hands moved up to her back and began massaging that as well.

"You too," she whispered back.

Just then, the door to the locker room flew open, and both the young lovers looked up with a start. Coach Bartelli was standing in the doorway, mouth hanging open under his thick moustache.

"WHAT THE FUCK AM I LOOKING AT????"