"Why do you need something to put on?"I've been a skirt chaser all my life; I understood the question."How old are you, Megan?" Does it matter, Mr. Un...erwood?" Artie."She nodded."I guess not, Megan." I leaned forward to kiss her; she responded with an open mouth and a searching tongue. She pushed my hands away from my belt and used her own to open it, reaching then for the zipper. I reciprocated by opening her jeans and letting them drop to the floor. We had by then moved from the kitchen into. Greg placed his hands on my hips and pulled me toward him as he pressed himself tightly between my spread legs. “Whoa! Your belt buckle is cold.” I said as a shocked smile crossed my lips. Greg reached down and lifted the hem of my miniskirt and peaked underneath. “Holy shit girl! You’re not wearing any panties under a fucking MINISKIRT? No wonder why that troll was all worked up!” he said with a shocked look on his face. --- “Are you going to keep rubbing that belt buckle against my pussy. You valiantly attempted to bring me off,but just as you thought you had me on the brink of climax,I uttered a familiar phrase."Of course, you're still going to get a spanking."Your eyes widened in surprise as I withdrew my member fromyour mouth. A quick tug to a handful of damp hair drew youto your feet. Then over that hamper you went, bottom inthe breeze. The first painful swat landed followed by threedozen more, each leaving you squinting and squealing.I continued smacking your blazing cheeks. If Sara had done it tomake me feel like a child, then she had succeeded on that count.Looking down on my body, I felt like I was a pre-teen again.My humiliation wasn't over there though. Sara made me sit down at thevanity table in the corner of the room and she spent a good half anhour plucking and preening at my face, including removing some of myeyebrow hairs (which hurt) and then using a curler to extend myeyelashes so that they became far more pronounced than they had been.The effect of.