I must be honest and say that I never expected Katie to show up, but she was waiting for me in the car park when I arrived. I recognised her at once, a medium height, size 12 brunette, with a sensible Mumsnet haircut that left the hair just brushing her earlobes. She was wearing a pair of nice of blue jeans, a comfortable pair of slip-on shoes and a light grey sweatshirt. She gave the appearance of being a county mummy in the market town to spend the afternoon with her chums drinking tea and eating cakes. That was until the observer looked at her face and saw the look of preoccupation on it as she bit down on her lower lip, and the way in which she kept looking at her watch, as she nervously shifted her weight from one foot to the other. I paused for a moment to enjoy the show, and Katie looked up and saw me grinning at her. She recognised me at once, and she stamped her foot in mock anger as I walked over to her.
"I don't like it when fellas are monging me," she said, after we had done the kissy-kissy, nice to meet you routine.
"I've never heard that one before," I told her with a laugh.
"That's 'cos you are old enough to be my dad," she said, sticking her tongue out to emphasise her point.
"I'm going to do to you what your father should have done," I told her.
She nodded at that and we walked to the car. When we reached it I opened the door for her, but was surprised to see that she was stood behind the vehicle sending a text message. I walked back and saw that Katie was sending my car's registration number to somebody. I nodded in approval and gave her my business card: "Give 'em the address as well, if you want," I said.
"I always tell my friend where I am going when I meet someone," she said by way of explanation. "But nobody has ever been as open as you," she went on. "Aren't you concerned about people knowing about you?"
I shrugged my shoulders and opened the car for her: "I don't much care what people think," was all I said.
Driving the thirty minutes or so to my place, Katie began to talk twenty to the dozen, confirming just about everything that I already knew about her. To give you the short version, she was the respectable wife and mother with a husband who was working all the hours that God sent to keep his head above water in the recession that was just then starting to bite. Part of her knew that the old man was fighting to keep his job so that his family could continue to live well, but she still felt lost and alone, hence the other men. The nice thing from my point of view was the obvious sense of guilt that she felt, guilt which had led her to seek me out.
"I can't believe that I'm letting you do this to me," she said at length.
"You are not letting me do anything; I'm going to blister your rear end whether you like it or not," I told her.
"I could scream and fight you off," she said.
"You don't have to. I'll stop the car and you can get out," I said, pulling the vehicle over into a lay-by.
Katie made no move to leave the car, so with a quiet chuckle I continued to drive us to my place. The notion that Katie was going to escape without a spanking was no longer on the agenda.
To be continued.
"I don't like it when fellas are monging me," she said, after we had done the kissy-kissy, nice to meet you routine.
"I've never heard that one before," I told her with a laugh.
"That's 'cos you are old enough to be my dad," she said, sticking her tongue out to emphasise her point.
"I'm going to do to you what your father should have done," I told her.
She nodded at that and we walked to the car. When we reached it I opened the door for her, but was surprised to see that she was stood behind the vehicle sending a text message. I walked back and saw that Katie was sending my car's registration number to somebody. I nodded in approval and gave her my business card: "Give 'em the address as well, if you want," I said.
"I always tell my friend where I am going when I meet someone," she said by way of explanation. "But nobody has ever been as open as you," she went on. "Aren't you concerned about people knowing about you?"
I shrugged my shoulders and opened the car for her: "I don't much care what people think," was all I said.
Driving the thirty minutes or so to my place, Katie began to talk twenty to the dozen, confirming just about everything that I already knew about her. To give you the short version, she was the respectable wife and mother with a husband who was working all the hours that God sent to keep his head above water in the recession that was just then starting to bite. Part of her knew that the old man was fighting to keep his job so that his family could continue to live well, but she still felt lost and alone, hence the other men. The nice thing from my point of view was the obvious sense of guilt that she felt, guilt which had led her to seek me out.
"I can't believe that I'm letting you do this to me," she said at length.
"You are not letting me do anything; I'm going to blister your rear end whether you like it or not," I told her.
"I could scream and fight you off," she said.
"You don't have to. I'll stop the car and you can get out," I said, pulling the vehicle over into a lay-by.
Katie made no move to leave the car, so with a quiet chuckle I continued to drive us to my place. The notion that Katie was going to escape without a spanking was no longer on the agenda.
To be continued.
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