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 The vase held some drooping mauve tulips, one of the petals had fallen onto
the blue check tablecloth which covered the table used for family meals. 
Beside the vase stood a dark bowl of plump apples.  As the heavy drape
curtains were tightly drawn the room was lit entirely by a small lamp that
sat on the mantelpiece.  That particular evening I remember she was still
wearing her summer school dress and on her golden brown legs a pair of
short white socks.  I grabbed her slender wrist and she was laughing.  I
pulled her over my lap.  She gave me such an instant erection, the sheer
thrill of that hot skinny body on my lap.  The weight of her flat soft
stomach pressing down on my prick.  She was eleven.  She was eleven years
old for goodness sake and she had been a very naughty girl.  Not that I
needed an excuse to spank her.

   Right there and then I lifted her dress and feasted my eyes on her
perfect bottom.  My right hand gently massaging its round, fleshy contours.
I enjoy each moment like a gourmet savouring a choice morsel and begin to
smack her bum hard.  Much harder than I should perhaps.  She yelled as if
it was really hurting and writhed across my lap.  Her yells become louder
until she is screaming for me to stop.  I wanted so badly to take her
panties down although I know I dare not, things had already gone far
enough. Her panties are small, pink and see through.  In all I smacked her
about thirty times.  It must have stung a great deal.  With no mercy shown.
Even when she bursts into tears I carry on smacking that sore looking
bottom with yet more devilishly hard smacks.  When she gets up she is
crying a little but I could see she loved it, really loved it.  Her eyes
shine with a mixture of tears and excitement.  Again I grab her arm, she
doesn't resist.  I stroke her golden blonde hair.  It is cut a little too
short for a girl and she has a boyish charm about her.  It is only right
she should be punished like a boy.

   "Did it hurt Jenny" I asked.  She tilts her pretty head and laughs
softly, her cheeks flushed and she leans provocatively across my upper
thigh.  Her small hand hovers less than inch away from my bulging prick.  I
am sure she knows.  You could see it in her dark pretty eyes.

   "You were lucky I didn't take your panties down" I said.  Their were of
course two possible reasons for taking her panties down, She smiled showing
the lucky gap in her small white teeth.  Her hand moved just a fraction
closer to the bulge.  Then she touched it.  Maybe it was an accident.

   "You can take them down if you want to.  I don't mind if you do" she
replies.  By now her hand is shamelessly pressing down upon my long hard
prick, through the thin material of my trousers I can feel the heat of her
hand.  I am so tempted but I resist.

   Of course I wanted to but I didn't although it required more willpower
than I knew I possessed.  Instead I went upstairs and closed the bedroom
door.  A few minutes later her mother arrived home at least an hour earlier
than expected.  The next month I left the house never to return, although I
kept in touch.  When I saw her a few years later it was at a funeral.  She
was eighteen.  The guy with her was even older than I was and looked as if
he couldn't quite believe his luck.  She gave me a wet kiss and a hug.  I
could taste the alcohol on her breath.  I remembered that evening seven
years ago when I so nearly sinned.  I wonder if she remembered it too?