I was in my parents’ kitchen, for god’s sake. The same kitchen where I’d eaten breakfast and dinner for eighteen goddamn years. Scott’s hand s...oothed over my ass and I braced for impact. It didn’t come. As soon as I began to think he wasn’t going to spank me, his palm made contact.“Fuck!” I couldn’t help crying out and as if to punish me for making a noise, his hand moved fast, hitting me neatly and alternately on either cheek until my flesh burned. Before I had time to get accustomed to the. Now it had become quite acceptable to follow women's soccer which Bobbyand I did avidly.Julie and Lucy were deep in their own conversation. They of course weredrinking pints of beer. An occasional peal of laughter came from themas Bobby and I discussed the merits of our respective teams that wesupported.A lull came in our discussion and I looked around at our fellowdrinkers. There was the usual amount of single women drinkers and a fewmore husband and wives couples.Suddenly as I was looking. More

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