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Unsuspecting brother wins Nun as party prize.
I suppose, if I'm honest, I would like to have been a naughty girl sometimes (girl..? - that's a laugh, I was 39 next month), do something outrageous and daring. I just didn't have the nerve. It always seemed to be other people who were able to have naughty sex, and do it with a light heart too. At least, that was the impression I got from certain people at work.
I wasn't unhappy exactly. I loved my Brian, even though sometimes he irritated the life out of me. And we were blessed with three lovely teenage boys who were good kids on the whole. We thought the world of them. But, as I said, it would've been nice to do something a bit more off-the-wall occasionally.
I didn't want to admit to any of this in front of Lisa and James, of course. They were our best and oldest friends, but I couldn't open up about that sort of thing. They'd never let me live it down. To be perfectly honest, I couldn't even bear the thought of discussing it with Brian. I suppose I'd always wanted him to think of me as being pure and innocent, the girl he married, and not someone who had unsavoury thoughts. And I supposed we were just too staid and set in our ways now anyway. The time for all that had somehow just passed us by. And also I think it's possible that a person is just too close to their partner to be able to admit to certain things for fear of ridicule, of what they might think. "Ooh, what's got into you? You've never mentioned that before? You're not getting kinky in your old age, are you?" Like as if you've suddenly become a rampant pervert or something overnight after years of virtual abstinence.
Anyway, to actually plan something like a spanking session in the cold light of day (or night), would surely take the edge off the main event when it came to it... wouldn't it? Especially with the children to work round. That made it virtually impossible to indulge in anything remotely connected with sex, let alone spanking, what with them coming and going all hours.
I've always thought fantasies were delicate things, like bubbles blown from a child's wand. If you just watch and enjoy them for what they are - rainbow coloured dreams floating on the air, sustained for a moment in time by your hope and belief - you are rewarded with a sense of well-being and happiness. If you reach out to grab one and touch it... pop! No more bubble... and no more dream! A fantasy is something best kept to your own private moments, not bandied about to be tarnished and cheapened. Well, there you go, that's me getting all philosophical, silly old girl.
Putting into practice what you think about in your head isn't always a good thing. To be honest, although I was curious about spanking and the thought of being hauled up over the knee of some roguish but good-looking stranger kind of excited me in fantasy, in reality sensibility would inevitably kick in and cool my ardour, especially if I imagined seeing myself in that situation and thinking how ridiculous I looked. Imagine it... a mature woman way past her sell-by date with flabby bits and bum dimples lying in an undignified position across somebody's knee wasn't a particularly fetching image, let alone an erotic one... at least it wasn't to my mind. In fact, the more I did think about it, the more absurd it all seemed. There's nothing quite like reality for spoiling one's fun. And you only have to imagine your own children catching you 'at it' to pour on the cold water.
"Well?" said James. "Anymore for anymore before they close the bar?"
We all agreed to a last drink, even though I knew I'd personally had enough. But it had been a good night on the whole and I didn't want to be a killjoy at the last knockings.
When Brian and James had gone to the bar to get the round, Lisa smiled at me and then laughed. "Men! What are they like? Always thinking with their balls."
We'd been friends since schooldays, over 30 years in fact, and I still loved the way her eyes creased up when she smiled. Some things never changed.
"Don't they ever talk about anything else?" I said.