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When I was eighteen I moved out of home into a flat of my own (with a little bit of generous assistance from my father). Living by yourself can be a little expensive and so I advertised for a flat-mate to contribute towards the rent and utility costs. After interviewing a few people I invited Mandy to live with me.

Mandy (My real name is Miranda, but nobody calls me that) proved to be a congenial flat-mate. She had a sparkling personality and, more importantly, paid her rent and share of the utilities on time. Another plus was that she had no intention of throwing wild parties.

One useful part of having a flat-mate, I found, was that you could use the presence of a second person in the flat to discourage unwanted advances from men. It’s a bit hard to chance your arm at a bit of seduction when another girl sticks her head in the door and asks if anyone wants coffee.

This particular advantage helped Mandy far more than it helped me, mainly because Mandy was a deliberate and provocative tease. I won’t say she grabs a man by the balls and drags him home, only to cast his loose at the last second, but it wasn’t far off that. I’ve warned her that that sort of thing could get her into trouble but she just laughed off the warning. It was just a bit of harmless fun, she assured me, and she knew where to draw the line.

Maybe she did and maybe she didn’t, but it seemed to mean that she skipped quite happily over the drawn line, only to suddenly jump back behind it at the last moment, expressing surprise that a man is taking her the wrong way.

One Friday night I got home from my date early (it was a ‘help — get me out of here’ date) and went to bed in a somewhat disgruntled mood. I’d had high hopes for that date only to find out that Carl was a sanctimonious, misogynistic, prick. The sort of man that could make a drunken bum look attractive.

So there I was, quietly stewing in bed, when I heard voices and guessed that Mandy had brought her date home. Things were reasonably quiet for a while and then Mandy’s voice became somewhat louder. This was different. It was usually the date that got louder when she told him time’s up, there’s the door.

I sat up in bed, ready to intervene if things seemed to be going awry. Moments later I decided that things were certainly going awry as Mandy seemed a little scared. With a sigh I hopped out of bed, opened my door, and lounged back against the doorframe, observing the goings on in the main room.

There was Mandy, still dressed for her date. She was wearing a short black dress that fitted her like a glove. It was a trifle on the short side but she had the legs to go with that dress. She was protesting and trying to pull away from this man, him having a firm hold on her arm.

Why she was trying to pull away from that specimen was beyond me. He fit the description tall, dark, and handsome as if it had been coined for him. Not only that but he was well groomed and well dressed, and both his haircut and his clothes looked expensive. Mandy wasn’t a virgin (not that I can talk) and it wouldn’t have surprised me to find she had a hold of his arm, trying to drag him into her bedroom. Still, as she wasn’t I guessed I had to intervene.

“Excuse me,” I called out, “but I have to break up this little love-fest. One of the flat rules specifically states no raping permitted.”

The man turned his head to look at me and I could feel his eyes running over me. Not surprising as I was only wearing my nightie and it was like Mandy’s dress; a trifle on the short side. The way he looked at me made me acutely aware that I wasn’t wearing any underwear, not liking sleeping in undies.

“And who might you be?” he asked.

“I’m Rebecca, also known as Becky, flat-mate to Mandy, the girl you currently have attached to your arm.”

“Hullo Becky. I’m Peter. As a matter of curiosity are you the same sort of consummate tease as Mandy?”

“No,” I said, shaking my head. “She’s in a class of her own, tease wise. Bostancı Escort Might I point out that you’re still holding her? The no-rape rule also applies to you.”

“I suspect that either or both of you would have a hard job trying to rape me,” Peter said. “Seducing me is another matter.”

“Whatever,” I said with a sigh. “Please let go of Mandy and depart. Now!”

Peter turned and looked at Mandy.

“Wait a moment. Were you worried that I was going to rape Mandy? No such intention, I assure you. Tell her, Mandy.”

“He said I was a consummate tease and needed to be taught a lesson. He said he was going to spank me.”

I giggled. I just couldn’t help it.

“So, tell me. Is this a spanking free zone as well as a rape free zone?”

“I have to admit that it’s not,” I told him.

“What?” I asked Mandy in response to her horrified glare. “We never made any rules about spanking. I’ll tell you what. I’ll stay and watch to make sure that he doesn’t get carried away and try to move into the forbidden area of rape.”

All Mandy could get out were a few ‘buts’ before Peter had pulled a chair away from the table and sat down, pulling her across his lap at the same time. That short dress promptly rode up, showing half her bottom, but that wasn’t enough for Peter. He pushed it higher and with the same action yanked Mandy’s panties down.

“Hey, hold on,” I protested.

Peter just smiled in my direction.

“What did you expect?” he asked. “You are here to say so far and no further, after all.”

I didn’t know what to say to that so I did the smart thing and said nothing. Peter simply lifted his hand and brought it firmly down on Mandy’s bottom. Ouch. I could practically feel that from where I was standing.

He settled down to spanking poor Mandy, talking to her softly while he did so. I don’t know what he was saying but Mandy’s responses seemed to be along the lines of ‘but, but,’ and ‘it wasn’t my fault’. Ha. I’d lay odds that whatever it was it was certainly her fault, the little minx.

I had a rear view of the action and it seemed to me that while the spanking had started with Mandy’s legs together they had slowly drifted apart, giving me, and presumably Peter, an eyeful. It also seemed to me that some of those spanks weren’t landing fully on Mandy’s bottom, drifting down a little to a more sensitive area. At first I wondered if I should protest about that but then again, Mandy knew more about what was happening than me and I’m sure she’d protest if his hands went too far astray.

For some reason I couldn’t help wondering what it would be like to be in Mandy’s place. Was he really slapping against her mound? What would that feel like? I had to stifle my giggles. I was actually getting aroused by the while incident. That would piss Mandy off if she knew.

Mandy had a nice warm glow on her bottom when Peter called a halt. He swung her to her feet and rose to his own. Mandy had spun around to face him, her hands clutching her bottom, totally ignoring the fact that her dress was still bunched up around her waist and her panties had dropped to her ankles. If she was as aroused as I suspected Peter wouldn’t have had to resort to rape. Too bad I was here to keep him in line.

Peter sauntered over to stand in front of me.

“I’ll be going, mission accomplished,” he said. “Before I do, if you don’t mind. . .”

And with that he bent his head and kissed me. His hand went around the back of my neck and tangled in my hair, tilting my head slightly and holding it steady. Then he was kissing me. I hesitated for a moment, thought what the hell, and kissed him back.

His free arm went around my waist, holding me flush against him, and I could feel the hard length of him pressing against me. Oh, yes, I could also feel his body pressing against mine. He must have realised just what he was pressing against me as he relaxed his hold slightly, leaving a bit of room between us. Pity.

That didn’t stop Kadıköy Escort him from continuing to kiss me and I was quite willing to exchange a few more kisses. I didn’t even think of anything but a few kisses until suddenly I found that hard length was trying to push up into me. (No undies, remember.)

I tried to say something, I’m not sure what, but how can you say anything when you’re duelling tongues with a guy. All I could do was clutch helplessly at his shirt while the invasion took place. He didn’t hesitate with what he was doing either, just driving smoothly in, confident that I would receive him.

Once he was set he just went right to work, sliding back and forth, smoothly building on my arousal. His hands dropped away from where he’d been holding me in place, coming up inside my nightie and closing over my breasts, starting to rub them in the same smooth manner his cock was demonstrating.

OK. I have to admit that I was moving in time to his actions. Well, really, what else could I do? It was a bit late to say stop when he was in mid stroke so to speak.

After a minute or so he lifted his head and looked at me, smiling. All I could do was look back, giving a slightly nervous smile of my own. I suddenly remembered Mandy and turned my head to look for her. She was standing there watching us, hands still cupping her bottom, pussy still blatantly exposed, the little hussy.

I couldn’t waste any time on her as Peter was demanding my full attention. At least, his cock was certainly demanding it. It wasn’t as though he was going hell for leather or anything. As a matter of fact he was being sweetly gentle, which in no way detracted from the arousal that was slowly building inside of me.

A few more minutes and things were getting tense. That’s when Peter started kissing me again. He didn’t kiss me for long this time as I suddenly convulsed with a climax, shivering all over from the force of it, sagging back against the door frame, breathing hard and feeling a little stunned. Probably looking it, too.

Peter turned to look at Mandy so I naturally did the same. She was still standing there, goods on display.

“If you bend over the table,” Peter said softly, “I will fuck you very, very, hard.”

If she bent over the table then she was consenting, I reasoned, so the no rape rule didn’t apply. I wasn’t sure how it applied to what had just happened to me.

I knew it. I just knew it. That little tart just turned without a word and bent over the table, legs spread, doing everything but hold up a welcome sign. Peter approached her and the next thing I knew it was a case of oh my god.

Instead of the gentle way he’d initiated things with me Peter just seemed to slam home, his cock almost lifting Mandy off the floor he slapped it home so fast. Mandy gave a squeal, but it was only one of surprise, not a protest. Then I was standing there watching as Peter fucked her. Me, he’d made love to. Mandy, he was fucking and fucking in an honest fashion, his cock plunging into her repeatedly while she squealed and bounced about under him, urging him on to greater lengths.

Forget the spanking. The fucking was going to leave her red and swollen in a certain sensitive place. He just seemed to keep on going, demanding a response from her, and getting it too. She was showing absolutely no inhibitions about being fucked in front of me. I wouldn’t have believed it if I wasn’t seeing it for myself.

Apparently there’s something inherently arousing in watching someone else get fucked. My own arousal had died down somewhat after Peter had finished with me (only to be expected) but now I was finding myself aroused all over again. Not only that but if I ever have a rape fantasy I now had something to model it on. I knew it wasn’t really rape as she’d almost grabbed him by the cock and dragged him home, but the whole action taking place was what I’d imagine a rape to be like. The helpless female being ruthlessly fucked by the evil Göztepe Escort master.

Peter went right on having his fun and Mandy’s resistance was less than zero. If she was this eager why didn’t she fuck him in the first place without all the spanking rigmarole? It’s amazing how slowly time drags by when you’re watching someone else have the fun. I’d have snuck off back to bed but there was just something mesmerizing about watching the whole love making scenario.

Finally I could hear a note of urgency in Mandy’s cries, indicating to me, at least, that she was about to blow. Apparently Peter heard that note as well as his hand came around and covered her mouth, just as she was about to let out a godawful screech. All I heard was a muffled yowling sound.

Peter pulled away from Mandy and she just seemed to sigh a little as she leaned on the table. He turned his head and looked at me.

“Your turn,” he said. “Bend over.” He indicated the table as he spoke.

“What?” He didn’t say that, surely.

“Bend over,” he repeated, saying it slowly and distinctly to ensure that I understood what he was saying.

“But, but you can’t,” I told him. “I mean, you just did.”

I pointed to my door way to remind him, not that he should have needed reminding.

“What, that?” he said, waving the whole incident aside. “That was just to get you warmed up. I’m waiting.” He indicated the table again.

I found myself turning towards the table and bending over in an almost dreamlike state. I couldn’t seriously believe that he was going to be ready again so soon. I felt his hand touch me down there and then it was a case of bloody hell, what is happening?

He came surging into me, hard and fast, his groin slapping hard against me. He didn’t seem to pull back for a second stroke so much as rebound from hitting and having to drive in again. And again. And so on and so forth.

All his gentleness had gone by the way and he was giving me what for with great gusto, and my bottom was frantically bobbing up and down as I strove to stay with him. His hands had captured my breasts again but he wasn’t gently stroking them this time around. He was mauling them, groping them, making them his property to play with, while all the time his cock hammered into me.

Not that I was protesting. On the contrary, I was urging him on, daring him to do his worst as I could handle it. I now understood why Mandy had been encouraging him when he fucked her. There was just something about the whole dynamic that made me want to show him I was his match.

Maybe time actually is shorter when you’re the one having fun. It seemed to wind up all too soon, Peter driving me towards a climax, his cock insisting that I have one. I felt him start to unload deep inside me and that was enough to trigger a killing climax, with me having my own mouth covered by Peter’s muffling hand.

I was aware of Peter stepping back but I just emulated Mandy, sagging against the table, slightly shocked by all that had happened. Peter said something to us and both Mandy and I turned to watch him leave. Then we looked at each other.

“What the hell, Mandy?” I said. “If you were inviting him into the flat why didn’t you just drag him off to bed? Why all the fuss and the spanking?”

“I didn’t invite him in. He just turned up as I got home and followed me in. I though he was just some guy that was heading towards one of the other flats. He’s apparently the brother of some loser I wouldn’t sleep with and his brother spun him a big sob story about the big bad Mandy. He was delivering a little reprisal.”

“Well why didn’t you say so at the start so we could kick him out?”

“You didn’t seem too eager to kick him out,” Mandy pointed out. “What was with that fucking you in the doorway? You didn’t even try to protest.”

“I didn’t know it was happening until it happened,” I said defensively. “Then it was a bit late to say no. Um, do you think he’ll come back?”

“Not unless I go and beat up on his brother,” Mandy said thoughtfully. “The problem there is I don’t know who his brother is.”

“You see. That’s your problem. You tease so many that you need a scorecard to keep them straight. Oh well. I guess we just wait and see.”

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