I Did Not Know I Would Like That!
Copyright© 2026 by BaileyNicole
Chapter 1
He was fifty-odd and just a little overweight, around five-nine, and beginning to go bald. Though he was a pleasant man, he always came across as a serious sort, smiling but never laughing; a friendly man, always ready to help out. I was not tall, five feet four aged twenty-five, but with generous, well-shaped breasts, though not massive, and my shapely legs and hips made men admire and look twice.
It felt funny, in a weird sort of way, to notice that the safe Mr. Norton was ogling me. That day, I was leaning against the kitchen worktop on the phone to my friend while the man was bent down under the sink tightening a loose joint. I first noticed his crafty looks trying to see that little bit further up my skirt as he shifted around. Never would I have associated Mr. Norton with anything remotely connected to sex, which was why it all seemed strange. (I never would have imagined that he ever thought of me in a sexual way.)
Was he getting hard — did he fantasise what it would be like to fuck me? I wasn’t even sure just how much he could see. Up to that point, I had been having a joke with my friend about what opportunities I would have to misbehave the following week given that my husband was going away and hadn’t meant it to sound as though we really did intend to go off the rails; Mr. Norton clearly wouldn’t have known that.
I felt devilish and wicked, moving my hips and turning my body to the side. I teased the man, keeping just far enough away to prevent him from seeing all the way up to my crotch.
“Yeah!” I told my friend, knowing the man was listening, “I was ready for some excitement; we will go out and make the most of my freedom.”
Norton caught my eye, and the look on his face sent a shiver through me. Suddenly, there was a sexual charge in the air; to him, in his mind, I was making serious plans, sexual plans, letting him hear every word while I stood over him, happily allowing him to ogle and lust over me, see up my skirt (well, most of the way!). I looked down at the man while he gazed up at me, our eyes fixed on each other.
“I have a man here now,” I told my friend (who was already aware that it was only old Mr. Norton who was there with me), lowering the tone and volume of my voice, “But he won’t say anything — he won’t tell on me.” I covered the receiver so Brenda’s raucous laughter couldn’t be heard.
Wickedly, I dared to take a small step nearer to the man, not being too obvious, I let a foot slide, making my thighs spread wider as I leaned sideways onto the counter. It felt terrific and exciting, such bad behaviour — now I knew he really would be able to see the gusset of my panties. In my head, I couldn’t decide whether I should eventually confess to him that I was only joking and teasing him about going out on the town or whether to test his loyalty, say nothing but tell my husband all about it, and see if he got a call from our neighbour.
Brenda had to go, so we rung off. Norton’s eyes were fixed on my crotch, and he wasn’t bashful about letting me see his lewd stares. I was quite astounded as I expected him to have shyly looked away, embarrassed, but I felt a strange compulsion to remain where I was, to let him carry on looking. The atmosphere was a little tense now I was off the phone; it was very silent.
“You’re a very pretty and sexy-looking young woman; it shouldn’t be difficult for you,” he suddenly said.
How weird it was talking to this, to me, elderly neighbour while almost standing over him, legs spread unladylike.
“What shouldn’t?” I asked, hesitantly.
“Finding some fun,” he said calmly without any trace of lightheartedness or humour, “When your husband goes away.”
I was stunned by his comment. He kept letting his eyes go from meeting mine to blatantly staring at my crotch; somehow that increased my feelings of nervous excitement.
“Do you not disapprove?” I asked, shocked at my audacity to pursue this conversation while I continued to let him enjoy the view of my panties.
He shrugged his shoulders and fiddled with his wrench. “If you were my wife, you would have to pay a price,” he said curiously.
I gave a laugh. “What the hell does that mean?” My mind was already conjuring up several possibilities — most of them very intriguing. “You mean you would allow her to have her fun — but she would have to submit to some sort of forfeit?”
Norton slowly began to rise from his kneeling position, fixing his eyes on me, making my tummy turn over. He stood close, intimidating, almost menacing — but oddly arousing.
His voice was low in volume, his words measured and slowly spoken, which added to the tension. “You are one of those women who needs something different from time to time. Not one who wants to disrupt her life totally, but has needs, craves certain pleasures, ones that don’t come from regular married life.”
I grinned but felt uncomfortable. “You’re talking nonsense, Mr. Norton,” I laughed. “So if your wife was such a person, you would accept she needs to satisfy those urges — but you would make her pay; how would you do that, Mr. Norton? Are you speaking from experience?”
The idea that the Nortons had lived such an unconventional life was more than interesting but seemed unlikely.
He was standing so close that a whiff of body odour reached my nostrils, the smell of sweat from a workman. His eyes seemed to burrow into my mind, and the nervousness took away my breath, making me pant, my chest visibly rising and falling, appearing to me, when I became aware of it, to be sexual and potentially arousing for both him and me!
He took time to think before answering, “I won’t discuss my wife or marriage; we are talking about you — everyone is different. Some may find enjoyment in an act while another might regard it as punishment — some may enjoy the punishment.”
Mr. Norton was surely a very spooky man.
“What if I told you that I have been teasing you — winding you up?” I decided to come clean, though I suspected that this would not be enough as this conversation had already changed our relationship and the way I thought of him.
“Then I too, apart from your husband, should have the right to make you pay a price — but I don’t fully believe you. I know you are a woman who would delight in taking advantage of your husband’s absence if temptation came your way.”
Norton let his voice slow down and his eyes narrowed; a sinister grin appeared on his face as he added, “If you have been trying to ridicule me, then you should submit to me dishing out an appropriate form of punishment.”
I shivered and felt a tremble in my tummy — but was it a feeling of excitement and arousal rather than fright or terror?
“You wouldn’t have known if I hadn’t told you — do I get let off — credit for honesty? And I would only have to pay a price for being unfaithful if my husband caught me, Mr. Norton.”
I did feel silly, finding myself encouraging this game, this mental jousting, knowing that I probably now sounded quite as bizarre as the old man. Nevertheless, I carried on winding him up, provoking him.
He studied me, and not normally expected from Mr. Norton, he let his stare linger on my tits, making me feel on edge.
“Is it usually the victim that gets to personally punish the perpetrator?”
I laughed, “Now you’re stretching a point — would you think you have the right to punish me if you found out I had been with another man? You’re just the neighbour from next door — I’d expect you to keep your nose out of it!”
He smiled as he bent to pick up a strip of leather that he used to hold his battered toolbox together.
“Well, I’ll make do with chastising you for trying to ridicule me.”
As I began to turn away, harbouring the excitedly wicked intention of faking a need to bend forward to open a cupboard and flash a little bit of my white knickers for him, I unwisely went a step further. Not prepared to let him even begin to deliver some sort of sanctimonious moral lecture, I did bend over and push out my bottom, giggling as I did so.
“So you think I ought to let you spank my little bum, do you?”
I felt the strap make contact with my backside, striking across both cheeks with a crack. It didn’t really hurt, but immediately I was stopped in my tracks, astounded and shocked. Never would I have believed that my neighbour, strange as he was sometimes, would have the audacity or nerve to do something so outlandish, so forbidden!
I didn’t know what the hell to say or do and cried out when he delivered another blow, this time making me tense up, tightening my bottom cheeks. Now it really did sting.
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