A BLUSHING AT MEL'S
Johnny 'felt' everybody looking at him. Even if they hadn't turned to say hello when
he walked in, he knew everybody had noticed – as usual – that Michelle was not with him,
that he'd be sitting and waiting on her. After exhausting a dime at the jukebox on the
latest Elvis, the lanky guy sauntered over to his booth as cool as he could and sat down
to wait...
...and wait...
...and wait.
Shit man, he thought, rolling the cigarette pack tighter over his big right bicep.
This sucks. What sucks even more is I won't mention it ... again.
Johnny didn't like having to meet Michelle here, but he really had no choice. His
girlfriend's old man was a stern ex-army guy, a hulking bald man who knew how very
attractive his daughter was and how hot the hands of boys her age could get. He didn't
want his seventeen-year-old daughter dating, especially the leather-jacketed, sharp-faced
Johnny. Johnny could just imagine the scene if he walked up to that little white and lime
green porch and rang the bell. So for the past three months Johnny met Michelle here at
Mel' s … and she had always been at least a half hour late.
Add that to the other thing and Johnny was getting crazy with this chick.
Johnny checked his ducktail in the fluted metal side of the straw dispenser. Hell, he
could have any girl he wanted, he said silently to his reflection. Any girl here would
ache to have him breathing down over her on the front seat of his Buick. Why the hell was
he waiting around for Michelle to finally come across?
"Tonight or no night," Johnny growled under his breath.
This was the other thing.
Either Michelle put out like she said she wanted to but had always stopped at the last
minute, or they were through. Johnny went home every Saturday night with huge
'blue-balls' and no stories to tell. He wanted in and up Michelle's flounced skirt and
oh-so-tight sweaters … in and up tonight.
"Tonight, or no night," he repeated like a mantra just as Michelle walked into the
diner.
"Hi," the girl said, skipping across the tiled diner floor two minutes later. She had
smiled, blew kisses to girlfriends, basically twirled throughout the place, making a grand
old entrance up to her seething boyfriend.
"Hey," Johnny managed, looking up at his blue-eyed girlfriend from under his brow.
"Don't I get a kiss?" the young girl chirped while Johnny flashed her his
'can't-you-see-I'm-mad-at-you-right-now' glare.
"Don't kiss me then," Michelle spat and her ponytail swished from side to side of her
long white neck as she wiggled into the booth across from her taciturn man.
'Dammit!' Johnny screamed at himself. She don't even care I'm mad. And dammit,
dammit, I'm too scared to open my mouth! Hell, what the hell does my leather jacket stand
for!
"Are we goin' to Tammy's party?" Michelle continued. "Her parents are out of the
house for the whole night!"
"So?" Johnny spat across the table. "What's so good about Tammy's house that's not
good about my car?"
"I get so hot in a house," Michelle purred, moving forward. Her ample chest pressed
tight in her sweater and down against the formica tabletop.
Johnny couldn't help but notice. He felt a pinch as his erection pushed against his
tight blue jeans.
"Very very hot, " Michelle continued, popping the tip of her tongue out and over her
thin bottom lip.
Johnny knew this move well. He had seen Michelle use it when she passed him in the
hall at school or when they sat next to each other in the movies. But somehow, Michelle
would forget she ever licked her lips, or ever had a sexy thought in her pretty little
head when Johnny got her at the drive-in or up to "The Mount".
"Yeah," Johnny sang. "I know all about it."
"John Webster Race," Michelle said, sitting back in the red leather booth with a pout.
"I don't think I like your tone of voice."
"Yeah, so what?" Johnny replied.
Johnny was as angry with Michelle as he had ever remembered being. He didn't know
where to start. Three months and nothing more than his hand between Michelle's sweater
and bra, her constant bragging about how "it's no big deal, I'd do it anytime." Michelle
walking arm in arm with him through the halls, kissing his cheek as he left her at the
doors of classrooms, Michelle bragging to her girlfriends that she had a real tough guy
for a boyfriend and wouldn't "daddy just die" if he found out. It was all too much!
Johnny had had this all welling up inside his skinny body and not until that very moment
had he mustered the courage to tell off Michelle Blaines, the co-captain of the
cheerleaders, the girl with 'the rack' every boy in Woodrow Wilson High would like to
'stack', the chick with the softest lips Johnny had ever kissed, the girl everyone of
Johnny's friends swore was out of his league!
"I don't really care Michelle!" Johnny started, leaning across the table, staring her
down with his deep blue eyes.
"I don't care what you want, what you think, or what you need," he continued, reaching
out to her right wrist and placing his fingers around her white skin. He didn't squeeze,
he didn't press, he just held, willing his words across the table and into his
girlfriend's eyes.
Johnny expected tears but none fell. He braced for a slap, none landed. He watched
the straw dispenser, it never lifted. Michelle never moved her hand, or opened her mouth.
What she did do so surprised the seventeen-year-old boy that he sat back, still holding
her wrist.
"Um," Michelle purred. "Johnny. Johnny. Johnny."
Johnny stared in amazement as his girlfriend's massive chest rose and fell through
three quick exhalations.
"There's the tough boy I love," the sighing girl added, scooting her firm rump off her
side of the booth.
Johnny released his grip and Michelle stood over him for a second, smoothing a perfect
hand across the front of her poodle skirt, all the time smiling wide. When she finally
came to sit next to Johnny, her pale face was flushed and she snuggled as close as she
could to her boyfriend, placing her hand on Johnny's knee under the booth.
Johnny jumped.
"I love it when you're rough with me," Michelle admitted, coming close to his ear with
her soft lips.
"You were late," Johnny explained, trying like hell to understand this sudden wave of
attention. "I didn't mean to get mad bu..."
"No, no," Michelle pleaded. "I deserve it. I really do."
"Yeah, I guess," Johnny replied, still a bit taken aback, but loving the close
proximity of his warm girlfriend ... and her hand crawling up his thigh.
"I knew you were as tough as you looked," Michelle said. "But every time we get
together you never show it."
"I didn't think you wanted me to treat you... I mean, Ralph said girls like you like
guys to be rea..."
"Why don't you forget what little ole Ralph says about girls," Michelle interrupted,
as her hand grazed the side of Johnny's crotch. "I like it when you act tough."
"This ain't no act, girl!" Johnny suddenly growled. Attention or no attention, he
didn't want anyone thinking he wasn't cool!
"Um, keep it up," Michelle cooed in his ear and to Johnny's delightful surprise she
flicked her tongue at his lobe. "Tell me all about it tough boy."
"Michelle, just what the he..."
"Haven't I been a bad girl?" Michelle asked. "I know I've been a bad girl," she
continued and once again flicked her hand across her boyfriend's heavy crotch. "You can
even punish me if you want to."
Johnny's balls were on fire and his mind was racing. Just what the hell was going on
here? He had never seen Michelle so crazy before, so horny, in fact, Johnny had never
seen any girl he knew this horny ... and what the hell did Michelle mean by 'punishing
her'?
"You should just take me across your knee and spank me," she said. "Nice and hard,
just like daddy used to."
There were a whole host of things Johnny would rather have done with Michelle,
especially in the mood she was in. Then again, if Michelle could get so crazy like this,
just over him acting tough, maybe he should go ahead and spank her, get her really going,
no telling what she'd do then!
"I really need to learn my lesson," Michelle added. "Real bad."
"Okay," Johnny replied, trying to clear his brain of the light touches Michelle was
giving his crotch and all this weird talk about spankings. "Where do you want me to do
it?"
"Wherever you say," Michelle chirped and peeled herself from her boyfriend's side.
Johnny followed his girlfriend as she stood in the crowded diner. All their friends
were engaged in sipping, laughing and general fooling around in their own booths or draped
across others. Two of Johnny's friends, Ralph and Billy, looked over to him standing with
his arm around Michelle and grinned, assuming their buddy had once again forgiven his
girlfriend her tardiness and would be spending another night unsuccessfully trying to get
her to put out in his cold front seat. If they only could have guessed just what it was
that flared through Michelle's mind at that moment – just as "Hound Dog" began to play –
and how Johnny was rising to meet her need.
"The sooner the better," Michelle whispered, tiptoeing to Johnny's ear.
Johnny smiled as they made their way across Mel's. He had no idea where he was
heading. He could never spank Michelle in his car ... they barely had enough room to make
out in his tight bench seats. As Johnny walked by his friends and Michelle flipped more
helloes at her own, a sudden wicked thought came to the greasy-haired boy.
"Come on," Johnny said and marched Michelle through the loose purple double-doors into
the kitchen.
Of course none of the kids, the customers Mel affectionately referred to as "my little
hungry hoodlums" were allowed back here in the smell and grease, but Johnny was Mel's
cousin from his mother's side and while he wasn't exactly close with the bearded
forty-year-old owner, Johnny wasn't a stranger to the kitchen or the back room that was
Mel's office. On a few occasions, Johnny had had reason to visit Mel in his maze-like
back rooms, either to offer an invite to a family party Johnny knew the grizzled man would
never accept, or to order a few cheeseburgers to go when it was really slow out front. As
luck would have it, Johnny and Michelle walked into Mel's assistant, Jerome, a skinny
black man who had no care who walked through the tin-walled kitchen and whose very
presence this far out of the kitchen on a Saturday night indicated to Johnny that Mel was
nowhere to be found.
"Just got to get somethin' in his office," Johnny shouted over the 'spizz' and
Delores, the old waitress's gap-toothed smile.
"Yeah," Jerome shrugged, waving his dripping spatula at the couple. Jerome liked to
cook and was happy to do so with as few distractions as possible.
Johnny moved fast, past the big water cooler and the high short-order cutting block.
Michelle held tight to her boyfriend as they made their way around a corner and into the
tight, red-paneled hallway that led to the very back of the diner and Mel's postage-stamp
sized office.
"This is perfect," the girl announced sliding out of Johnny's arm as they stood in the
little room.
A worn green carpet covered the floor. A hulking metal desk was littered with supply
orders and pens, and a straight-backed metal chair was set behind the desk. Johnny closed
and locked the door after following Michelle in.
"Oh Johnny," Michelle squealed, grabbing for his arm, "you could spank me in here as
loud as you want and no one will ever hear."
"Yeah," Johnny said and like a shot Michelle was in his arms, kissing him deeply.
Michelle's mouth opened quickly to Johnny's. He felt her grind against him, her big
breasts pushing against his leather jacket, her skirt bunching up against his tight
jeans.
"Oh, God!" Michelle said, finally breaking from the kiss. "Oh, God, Johnny, I'm so
hot!"
"I can see that," Johnny agreed, stepping closer to kiss Michelle more.
The blonde spun so her backside faced her boyfriend. "I need to be spanked for being
such a bad girl."
Johnny looked to Michelle's ass, then to the desk and chair, and back to her ass. It
would take valuable time, at least three seconds to walk over to the chair, sit down, then
place Michelle over his lap. Plus that would mean walking – something Johnny was having a
very hard time doing just then. It would be so much simpler to...
"Move," Johnny demanded, placing a soft firm hand on his girlfriend's back.
Michelle moved forward three steps and stopped before the desk. She gazed over her
shoulder at her boyfriend and smiled, all the while spreading her legs into a slight
split, so her waist came up level with the desk.
"Over," Johnny said, the thought of what he was about to do becoming a jarring, yet
wonderful reality in his mind.
"Oh Johnny," Michelle said, leaning her upper body half across the desk.
The poodle skirt billowed out behind her as Johnny closed the distance, placed his
hand over his girlfriend's backside and began to fumble through the folds of the skirt.
"Oh yes," Michelle moaned. "Raise my skirt and give it to me hard!"
That's what I'm trying to do. Johnny fiddled with the skirt.
With the deep blue material up and over Michelle's back in seconds Johnny was faced
with a thick, lacy white slip. Again he dipped his arm, this time to lift the slip as his
girlfriend breathed in deep, and Johnny exposed Michelle's bare legs and ass to the cool
room.
"Oh, God," Michelle growled, her delicate hand splaying through the papers on Mel's
desk before her.
Johnny stood a good thirty seconds, just staring at Michelle's thick upper thighs and
pink cotton panties. He had dreamed about getting under her skirt for months ... even
before he had dated her. Now that he had her ass in view, her wonderfully soft panties
just inches from his face, it was all Johnny could do to bring his mind back to the matter
at hand, or under hand actually.
"Spank me," Michelle softly pleaded. "I need it so bad."
Johnny was about to remove his leather jacket, but thought better of it. Somehow it
seemed better if he kept his jacket on.
Johnny brought his big open palm back, then forward to the center of Michelle's little
ass.
"Oh, oh!" the girl squealed and Johnny lingered his hand long enough across his
girlfriend's bottom to really feel those soft cotton panties.
"Again!" Michelle growled. "Please. I need it. Please!"
Johnny lifted his hand back and once again swatted her, this time harder and below the
spot he had first landed. Michelle actually lifted a fraction from the desk and when she
settled back down, she was scissoring her legs and moaning loudly.
"Oh, I've been so bad," she whimpered.
"Yes," Johnny agreed and swat again.
"You," he continued and swat, he connected to Michelle's right cheek.
"Have!" he finished connecting to her left.
Johnny stood back to admire the panty-clad ass in front of him then let fly with a
furious seven swats dead center of Michelle's ass, swat, swat, swat, swat, swat, swat,
swat. Finishing, the tall boy placed his hot hand across his girlfriend's bottom as she
sighed and undulated into the desk in front of her.
"Like that?" he asked.
"Yum," Michelle managed.
"I love feeling your ass," Johnny said, standing up while kneading his
girlfriend's bottom. "I always wanted to touch it."
"How 'bout naked?" Michelle asked, a low groan escaping her throat.
Michelle might have prompted him to spank her, but Johnny needed no extra prodding to
peel Michelle's tight panties down her equally tight bottom, pooling them between her
knees.
"Like?" Michelle asked as her skin was exposed to the cool room.
"Hell yes, man," Johnny said and brought his two palms across his girlfriend's soft
white skin, tickling and squeezing her flesh.
He could just make out a whisper of blonde pubic hair as Michelle opened and closed
her legs to his attentions. God knew he wanted to see more of her naked but Johnny could
wait … he felt he was well on his way to getting everything thing he had ever wanted from
this girl.
"Oh Johnny, John-neeeee," Michelle moaned as her boyfriend's hands moved up, over and
across her slightly stinging buns.
Johnny stood back, enflamed with his own desire and stared hard at those perfect
mounds of flesh. Michelle was undulating hard against the desk top, circling her ass, as
turned on as he was. He hadn't started out ever wanting to spank her, but right now that
was all he could think about as the girl moaned, shifted and mewed. Michelle might not be
able to sit for a few days when he got done with her.
Johnny turned, placed his left hand softly on Michelle's back then raised his right.
"You're gonna get it now girl," he said and Michelle cried out as Johnny landed his first
high swat on her naked ass.
"Oh, na na no," Michelle screamed, but kept right on wiggling. "Oh, God, Johnny!"
"This is what you wanted, this is what you're getting," the lanky teen said and
swatted his girlfriend twice more, one hit to each cheek.
"Oh no," Michelle screamed.
Johnny brought his hand back and with all his might, aimed for the bottom of
Michelle's bottom, just where her right leg met her right cheek. He connected with the
loudest slap yet and Michelle jumped forward and stood.
"No, no, ah, Johnny!" Michelle said, trying to turn. Johnny held her in position as
her slip and skirt fell across her naked bottom.
"You said you wanted it," Johnny said to Michelle's neck. He could smell the
wonderful combination of her soft scent and a hint of sweat from these past few moments.
"You have been a bad girl Michelle," Johnny continued and Michelle closed her eyes and
inhaled deeper.
"Very, very bad," he said, fumbling to smack her through the folds. "You keep me
waiting, you tease me all the time then never put out. You deserve a hard spanking," he
finished and slowly pushed Michelle down across the desk again.
"Oh no, no," Michelle softly chided as Johnny brought Michelle's skirt and slip back
up again.
"Here's one," he said and swatted Michelle dead center. The girl barely moved.
Johnny was saving the hardest ones for last.
"And two and three," he said and swatted her, right cheek to left.
Swat. Swat.
These two had been a bit harder and Michelle moaned a bit and started her undulating
again.
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