LSF Publications: spanking fiction ebooks

Miss Tight Brown Pants
When the woman walked past me, my head rotated to follow her. I couldn't believe her. She was probably in her late-twenties or early thirties, very attractive, with the face of a model. She was dressed casually in a plain brown sweater and pants, but with a certain elegance that said she was well off. But those pants!

They were a light brown (slightly darker than tan), the fabric thin and very smooth. The cloth positively clung to her body. And what a body! Slender legs a mile long, topped by one of the most perfect bottoms I've ever seen. We're talking twin rounds of glorious woman flesh pressed together like two cantaloupes side by side. The globes jutting out invitingly, the seam between tight and thin. The pants were so tight I could easily see not only the succulent underhang of the pert bum, but I could detect the distinct bulge of the woman's cunt!

I couldn't help but stare as the cheeks wobbled down the sidewalk. I looked around, half-expecting a riot of lecherous males, tongues hanging out as they followed the woman, but no one gave her a second look. Dressed like that she might as well have pranced down the street naked, yet in this sinful city such a sight was not even worth the trouble of bothering to look. Lord in my day a woman would be horsewhipped to go out in public like that!

The slut deserves a good whipping, I thought, my feet moving without me telling them, and I'd gone three blocks before I realized I was following the woman. By that time I figured I might as well continue. Besides, it was rather entertaining, watching those firm cheeks shift up and down as she walked, and imagining what discipline a long willow switch could do to those hams. Why my mother would have whipped that slut into next week!

I remembered all too well the welts left by my mother's willow switches, both on my own ass and my sister's sitter, and as I watched the brown-panted woman I thought to myself that those pants were so tight and the material so thin that a weal from a switch would probably be visible through the cloth.

Now I might be approaching the century mark, but I ain't too old to know a pretty woman. This girl was sexy and imagining her getting the tanning she deserved had me functioning in no time. No Viagra for me!

The woman turned into a large brownstone. She marched up the stairs and disappeared inside. I wandered to the foot of the stairs, suddenly a ship without a sail. I hadn't been thinking about what I going to do or even why I'd followed the woman, but now I found myself lost and strangely disappointed. I couldn't bear to leave, yet I couldn't go forward.

Suddenly the door opened the woman was there. She was staring right at me, huge brown rabbit eyes so soft and beautiful, yet there was an edge to her. "Do I know you?" she asked.