Joined: 25 June 2011
It was Friday afternoon, and I just didn't feel like cooking. But what could I do about it? Well, the answer is really quite simple: get my darling husband, Armaan, to take me out for dinner. So I walked into the bedroom and took a look at myself in the full-length mirror.
Ugh! This would never do. My hair was a mess and my clothes frumpy. Knowing Armaan like I do, something cutesy would make him much more open to suggestion. I brushed my hair and put on white bobby socks, a loose-fitting miniskirt, and a teeshirt.
When he got home from work, I gave him a bright, inviting smile. He returned the smile and looked appreciatively at my legs. Things were definitely moving in the right direction.
"Hey, Armaan--how about a kiss for your adoring wife?"
He opened his arms, and I walked into his embrace.
This was not all an act. I love Armaan very much, and I just about melt when he holds me tight.
His kiss was warm and tender. As he was caressing my back, it didn't take long for his hand to drop down and squeeze my bottom. He likes doing that, and I knew it would put him in a good mood.
"How was your day?" I asked as we separated.
He walked over to a chair and sat down.
"A little tiring."
"Tired, huh? Me too."
I went over to him and sat down in his lap. We kissed again.
"You know what I'd like to do?"
He started to push my skirt up. "Get into bed and make love?"
"No, silly!" Moving his hand back up to a more discreet position, I pulled my skirt back down--at least as far down as it would go. Then I lowered my voice seductively. "How about taking your sexy wife out to dinner tonight? I'm too tired to cook."
He hesitated just for a moment, but it was long enough.
"Great!" I said in a tone that implied the issue was settled. "Tell you what. I'll just jump in the shower, and we'll be ready to go in a jiffy. In the meantime, why don't you change?"
I guess I always was just a little bossy. That didn't change much when I married Armaan, the love of my life. Mind you, though, he's not a wimp. He can put his foot down when he wants to. It's just that, well...he usually doesn't, and I get my way.
But being bossy isn't my only fault.I love being a tease and used to tease Armaan a lot when we were dating. There were times when I'd let me skirt ride up while we were in the car. He'd keep looking down at my legs, and I knew I was turning him on. When I did that, he'd usually want to stop and park. Sometimes I went along with that, but sometimes I wouldn't--all he'd get was a goodnight kiss. I was so terrible I should be ashamed of myself! But it was really fun to see him get so excited he could hardly control himself, and it was exciting for me to know I could have that effect on him.
I read somewhere--in some novel, I think--that it's not the man's job to resist little temptations. He sees, and he wants. It's the way he's wired. It's the girl's job to resist temptation and keep things from getting out of hand. Not that Armaan would ever try to go all the way; he didn't believe in that. But he would try to get pretty fresh, and I had to decide just how much to let him do.
Well, as far as teasing is concerned, now that we're married, I'm much worse! You see, we can now make love--and there's nothing more thrilling for either of us than our sex life. The problem is that Armaan would probably want to make love every night, but that would eventually make sex less exciting, wouldn't it? So I have to put some limits on him.
But I tease him a lot. I'll dress sexy around the house and do little things to turn him on. Like snuggle up to him when we're watching a movie, put my hand a little too high on his leg, or put my arm around him and play with his hair and ear. Sometimes I'll "accidentally" give him a little flash down my shirt or up my skirt. It's all so much fun! All my teasing gets him really turned, but sometimes I'll give him my impish smile and make him wait a night or two.
Does that sound mean? Well, it could be, I guess--in some marriages, with certain personalities. But Armaan likes my teasing. Not that he isn't disappointed on those nights when I don't let him have his way with me. But I know he enjoys how this builds up his excitement. When I've said no, he can't wait for the next night to try again--and he tries a lot harder to seduce me. It's fun for me, and its fun for him. He's told me that.
But tonight I found out something: teasing can get a girl into a rather...shocking position!
Last night, Armaan had wanted to make love, but despite his best attempts and a lot of giggling on my part, I'd said no. Tonight I decided to really turn on the teasing. And who knows? I might even give him some action tonight. But I always make those decisions on the spur of the moment--depending on how I feel at the time.
Anyway, Armaan always likes to watch me dress, so I thought I'd give him a real eye full. My antics might seem a little crass, but I know what turns my husband on. Shouldn't a wife be sexy for her husband? I think so.
He was in the bedroom dressing when I walked in from my shower with a towel wrapped around me. I saw him standing there watching me, and I got my first idea. Facing just a bit toward him, I bent over to open the dresser drawer where I keep my underwear. As I pulled the drawer open and began to rummage around in it, I let my towel "accidentally" fall open in front.
His eyes almost popped out. Here, not more than six feet from him, was his lovely and vivacious wife bent over at the waist with her bare breasts dangling tantalizingly before his very eyes.
It gave me a bit of a thrill too as I imagined what was going through his mind, and I almost burst out laughing. However, I kept myself under control and managed to feign disgust at the misbehaving towel.
"Good grief! This towel just isn't big enough. But I don't need it anymore anyway." Then I looked up at him and gave him a seductive smile. "Try to control yourself, now, I'm taking it off."
I stood up straight, pulled the towel off, and threw it on the bed behind me. I was absolutely naked in front of my husband. He returned my smile.
"Well, I must say that you're not making it very easy to control myself. What time did you say those reservations were for? Do we have time for maybe a little..."
"No, we don't have time, so don't get any ideas."
With that I turned back to the drawer and pulled out a white, lacy bra that hooked in the front and matching white panties. I stepped into my panties and pulled them up. In the mirror, I sneaked a look at Armaan. He had not moved an inch and was still staring at me. Needless to say, I was enjoying this immensely.
After putting on my bra, I reached up and with slow, caressing squeezes to adjust the position of my breasts in the bra--all totally unnecessary, of course. From the look on Armaan, he could hardly believe what he was seeing.
So, attired only in a bra and panties, I flashed him impish smile, and walked back into the bathroom to blow-dry my hair.
It was only a matter of a minute or two before Armaan walked past the bathroom door rather slowly and looked in at me. Then he walked past again. He still hadn't finished dressing. When he walked past a third time, I shut off the blow dryer and gave him my best disgruntled look.
"Are you ogling my underpants?"
"'Underpants'? I find the name 'panties' much sexier."
"Yeah, I know. That's why I said 'underpants.' I didn't think you needed any more encouragement right now."
"Well, you're sure giving me a lot of it."
"Am I?" I replied in a tone dripping with sweet innocence.
"Nikki, you know very well you are! And I noticed that you put on your sexiest bra and panties...Yeah, now I get it! This can only mean one thing: you're trying to make amends for saying no last night and making me go to sleep a thoroughly frustrated husband."
I knew Armaan wasn't really angry with me. He often accuses me of being a tease, but he knows I orchestrate our love life for the best and never gets angry when I say no.
"In your dreams! I'm just trying to get ready so we can go out to eat tonight. Now if you can tear yourself away from the bathroom door, and my panties," I added with emphasis, "long enough to finish dressing, that might help."
Armaan smiled and turned to go back into the bedroom. By the time I returned, he had finished dressing. I had decided not to wear pantyhose tonight, so opening a few more dresser drawers, I pulled out a pair of white knee socks and a slip. As I bent down to get the socks, I turned my derriere toward Armaan and gave him another eye full. I'm so mean! But what is it about men that they just eat this sort of thing up?
Sitting down on the side of the bed facing the dresser, I pulled on the knee socks and noticed that Armaan was watching me in the dresser mirror. He must have moved into just the right position so that the mirror allowed him to look up my legs as if he were standing right in front of me. I decided to put on another show.
Of course, I couldn't make quite the production of pulling on knee socks as I could have done with pantyhose, but I stretched out each leg in turn until my foot rested on the dresser in front of me and then slowly and deliberately smoothed each sock onto my leg. My legs were apart, and Armaan could evidently see all the way up to my panties. Men are so predictable!
That done, I stood up and pulled on my slip. Then I walked over to the closest and took out a blouse. Armaan walked up, put his arm around me, and kissed me.
"You're too much, Riddhima, you know that?"
As he said that to me, he started drawing little circles on my bra with his finger. I took his hand and pulled it away.
"Now behave yourself, Armaan. You're not going to get anything right now, so there's no use trying."
When I finished buttoning my blouse, I got out a pleated skirt with a hem that came an inch or two above me knees. It was one that Armaan particularly liked. I had one more trick up my sleeve--one of my best. I knew it would make him hot and bothered all the way to the restaurant!
I stepped into the skirt and pulled it up, tucking in my blouse at the same time. Turning to face Armaan, I pretended to appraise my side profile in the mirror. My blouse needed straightening, and to do that, all I really needed to pull up was my skirt. But I "clumsily" got my slip caught in my fingers, and slowing raised both all the way to my waist, treating Armaan a full, head-on view of my panties.
"Oops," I remarked, and dropped the slip. After pulling my blouse neatly down, I let the skirt drop. Looking up at Armaan, I did a little pirouette.
"Well, do I look okay?"
"You little vixen! You know perfectly well that you look unbelievably sexy and that you just gave me a show that made my heart pound."
I walked over to him, laying my hand sweetly on his face.
"Oh, you poor darling," I purred.
"I hope you'll feel that sorry for me when we get home."
"Well, you never know, do you?"
I made my sweet smile turn devilish. Then grabbing his hand, I added, "Come on, let's go. Our sumptuous dinner awaits us."
At the restaurant, I became real affectionate. While we were waiting for the food to come, I reached across the table and tenderly caressed the top of his hand with my fingers. He loved it, I could tell, and soon took my hand in his. We held hands until the waitress arrived with our meal.
While we were eating, I kicked off one of my shoes and gently ran my foot up and down his leg under the table. It looked to me like he had trouble concentrating on his food.
I'd didn't do all this just to be a little tease. I love Armaan very much, and I show it. I believe in being affectionate, and I love it when he's affectionate with me.
After dinner, we took in a movie. Just like a couple of teenagers, we looked for some seats with no one around us. During the movie, Josh either had his arm around me or had his hand on my knee, with my skirt pushed a little up out of the way. Yes, my teasing earlier was really paying off.
I figured Armaan would try to make love tonight, and during the drive home I thought I was really in the mood. But by the time we got home, it was rather late and I decided to wait one more night. But that didn't mean I was too tired for a little more teasing.
When we walked into the bedroom, I flopped onto the bed fully dressed. Pulling my knees up, separated just enough, I let my skirt slide up.
That was it! Armaan saw that and just couldn't take anymore. He jumped on the bed next me. Poor Josh! I thought as I turned toward him and smiled.
With one arm, he reached around my shoulder and pulled me into a passionate kiss. At the same time, and ran his hand under my skirt and up my inner thigh. His fingers reached my panties, and I felt that familiar tingling begin. But I knew that at this point I had to put a stop to things.
"Oh, Josh, not tonight. I'm just too tired."
He backed away and looked at me, breathing hard.
"After everything you've done tonight, now you're going to say no?"
"Oh?" I asked sweetly. "Did I give you the impression I wanted to make love tonight? Well, just think how much you'll love going after me tomorrow night!"
But as I said that in my playful tone of voice, I looked into his eyes. His face wore an odd expression. I wasn't sure what he was thinking.
"Okay, Riddhima, that does it," he said with a sense of finality.
"What do you mean?"
"I mean the time has come for you to pay the price for all the teasing you've done and for saying no last night and tonight. You're going to get a spanking."
I felt my face flush.
A spanking? A host of images and emotions suddenly flooded my mind. I'd never been spanked before, even as a little girl. He couldn't really be serious, could he?
But then to my shock, he jumped out of bed and pulled the chair of my little vanity table out to the middle of the room. I began to get really nervous.
"Armaan...Armaan, what are you going to do?"
"What I said--I'm going to spank you. Let's just call this the male way to tease."
I tried to sound firm. "Spank me?! Don't be silly now."
"Yes, spank you." He started to walk toward me.
"Now...now wait a minute..."
But he wasn't waiting. He came over to the bed, took my hand in a strong grip, and pulled me up. Then, while still holding my hand, he led me to that chair. I looked at it. All of sudden, it had an ominous aura about it.
I just couldn't believe what was happening to me. I was going to be spanked! Spanked! Me! My heart was beating pretty fast by now. Was he thinking of turning me over his knee? My gosh, what would that be like?
"Armaan, let's just go to bed, okay?"
"I'll put you to bed after your spanking."
I was feeling a mass of conflicting emotions. My verbal protests seemed to be coming from a part of me that was a little scared--worried about what was going to happen, worried about being embarrassed, worried about being spanked like a child!
Yet there was something else going on inside of me. I felt a strange kind of excitement. Why should I be getting excited? What would I do if he turned me over his knee? What could I do?
My heart started beating even faster.
While still holding my hand, Armaan sat down on the chair. We looked into each other's eyes, but just for a moment. Then, before I knew what was happening, he lifted my arm and pulled me right over his knees.
My worst fears had come true. Or was it fear?
"Armaan...oh, this is embarrassing!"
"A spanking is supposed to be embarrassing, Riddhima. And it should sting, because it's supposed to teach you a lesson."
My two arms were stretched out on one side of him, and my legs were dangling helplessly over his lap on the other side. With his one hand, he pushed down on the center of my back to hold me in place.
"But I don't want to be spanked..."
He ignored me. How was he going to do this? Was he really going to slap my bottom? Then another thought flooded my mind: would he pull up my skirt?
Now that really started my heart pounding. But I sensed it now more strongly than before: I was getting excited--sexually excited.
Now why in the world would that be?
But there was no time to think about that now. I felt his other hand on my legs. He was taking the hems of my skirt and slip and pulling them slowing up to my waist.
"Riddhima...wait now...maybe I was a bit hasty before when I, um...are you pulling up my skirt?!"
Something, who knows what, caused me to start kicking my legs. Was I trying to escape? Maybe...but somehow I knew I really didn't want to escape.
So here I was: draped across my husband's knees, skirt up over my waist, my bottom sticking up in the air, utterly exposed and vulnerable, waiting to be spanked.
Incredibly, a question flashed through my mind. What must I look like to Armaan in this position? He always found panties sexy. Was this turning him on? Looking down at my panties that were just waiting to be spanked? Was he getting as turned on as I was?
Then a new thought came, and my heart started to do flip-flops. Would he try to pull down my panties?
But I wasn't given much time to worry about this. My eyes popped wide open as I felt a sudden slap.
A little sting. The realization was almost instantly in my brain. That hadn't hurt. He certainly wasn't slapping me hard to hurt me. It was just a little sting, but that sting seemed to excite my senses. I could feel a tingling begin in another area in addition to my derriere.
I started kicking my legs harder. I tried to reach around and cover my bottom with my free hand, but Armaan grabbed it and pinned it to my back. So there he was--holding my hand and spanking me! My excitement was almost overwhelming.
"Oooh...no more, please," I begged. "I've learned my lesson..."
Why did I say that? This was not a punishment like a little child might get. Somehow I knew that, and I knew that Armaan knew it too. He wasn't angry at all. This was excitement...sexual playfulness. Foreplay. Of course! Armaan had said himself: this was a male form of teasing. He was teasing me.
And I was loving it!
I also knew that I had learned no such "lesson": this spanking wasn't going to stop me from teasing him one bit!
He gave my jiggling posterior several more spanks and then stopped. But instead of letting me up, he began running his hands over my bottom, in a caressing, soothing motion. When I felt his fingers slip down between my legs, I started to go crazy with desire.
I moaned and sighed, but didn't say a word. I swayed up and down on his lap, pressing myself against his tormenting fingers. How long would he keep doing this? How much longer could I take it without exploding?
Then just as suddenly as he had started, he stopped. Josh took my hand again and lifted me to a standing position. I wanted to throw myself into his arms and press myself against his body, but he was quicker than I was. With one arm around my back and the other under my knees, he swept me up and into his arms.
I never felt safer or warmer in my life.
He walked over to the bed and laid me gently down. I watched his eyes as he pulled off my skirt and then my slip. One-by-one, he undid the buttons of my blouse, teasing my breasts as he did so. I closed my eyes, and I really think I trembled at his touch. Placing his hand behind my neck, he lifted me enough so I could slip my arms out of the blouse.
There I lay: white knee socks, white panties, and a white bra--like a schoolgirl...a schoolgirl who'd just been spanked!
I looked up at Armaan again. He couldn't take his eyes off me as he stood beside the bed and undressed. There was a passion in his eyes...a longing, a deep desire...And it was for me! I was so tense...my mind had only one thought, one emotion. I wanted him. I wanted him so bad...I had to have him...now...he must take me now...
When he climbed onto the bed, he straddled me on his knees.
"And now, my little tease, you're going to make mad passionate love to me."
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My friend knew password cant believe she did this n frankly I didnt even knew this story
Hate her for this BUT i think the story is nice so it was good having it in AR version
I dunno how to delete this topic as i have always been a silent reader, so if u guys help me i m going to delete this straight away.
N by the way the reply to mansi was also not from me !!!! I have returned to IF nearly after a month. SO SORRY AGAIN FOR THIS COPIED OS !!!!!
N lastly tell me how to change password as well
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Kindly refrain from copying others work and pass it as your own work. In worst fall, it can lead to legal case.
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