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Sauce for the goose is sauce for the gander


David!

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The leaves rustled in a slight breeze among the tree tops, but reclining in my gravity chair in the shade I felt only the late August heat. I was lying back with my hat pulled over my face, but when I heard chattering and laughter I peered out beneath the brim along the dusty path leading from our campsite. Fifty yards away four women in their twenties were passing by on the crushed stone Campsite Loop trail, carrying rolled up towels. Two were wearing shorts instead of jeans, and I admired their long tanned legs as they passed. Losing sight of them, I let my head fall back. They must be headed for the parking lot, which was the trailhead for four park trails besides the Campsite Loop, which had a bathhouse at it's furthest extent from the parking lot. My wife and I had walked the Falls Trail that morning, along the bank of an oversized stream to a series of small waterfalls. The trail ended where the stream swelled to a large pool above the top of the falls and a sign said No Swimming. I wondered if the women had bathing suits rolled up in their towels, but wouldn’t they just wear them? I hadn't seen any bikini or one-piece tops above their jeans and shorts. Sitting up, I pulled the topo map of the trails up on my phone. The Ridge Trail ran along the heights a lttle way from on the other side of the stream, maybe I could satisfy my curiosity. 

I looked at the tent but the mesh screen was zipped tight against insects and I couldn’t see inside. 

"I think I'll go for a walk," I said softly. 

"OK, don't go too far, or if you go on one of the trails, text me which one." My wife sounded drowsy.

"Sure," I replied, although I knew the cell service dropped off quickly away from the parking lot.

About an hour later, I was at the top of a steep bank not far off the Ridge Trail, looking down on the "No Swimming" area at the end of the Falls Trail, but no one was there. There weren't many people around in the middle of the week, but I had figured this was where the young women were headed. Maybe they drove their car to a beach or a swimming pool. As I turned back to the trail, I heard a faint shriek and a splash from further up stream. I couldn't see anything, but I hurried back to the trail, and about a hundred yards further along it, I again set out for the stream.

There was a clearing ahead, and I could hear splashing. I crept forward on my hands and knees to the edge of the trees. The ground fell away sharply couple of feet, cut by some old flood, and then continued to slope to the water's edge a stones throw away. The stream had widened again, and on a flat rock ledge on the other side, two of the young women lay on their towels. The nipples of their breasts were rosy in the sun, which glistened on their wet skin and glittered where drops of water lurked in the dense pubic hair between the tops of their legs. The other two women were standing waist deep in the water, tossing a small blue and white beach ball back and forth. Their breasts jiggled entrancingly when they threw the ball, and I caught glimpses of firmly rounded buttocks when either of them had to lunge away from me to make the catch. I lay down on my stomach, shifting my hips back and forth slightly to comfortably accommodate my urgent erection. For a brief time I reveled in the graceful displays of recumbent and athletic young female nudity.

My trance was broken by the crackling of brush behind me.  I rolled on my side and saw my wife frowning down at me with her hands on her hips! For a moment I thought she was holding her hairbrush, but then I realized she had stuck the handle under her belt and into her pocket, with the bristles facing out above her belt. The promise it held was still the same. 

"Wha-at!" I blurted, as she strode past me to the brink and I scrambled to my feet.

"Perfect!" she exclaimed softly, looking around. 

Puzzled, I stepped up beside her, certain she was not referring to the shrieking and scrambling young women who had noticed our sudden appearance. I was alarmed to see she was looking at weathered section of tree trunk, likely left by the past floods, lying parallel to the stream about a dozen feet away to our left and part way down slope. My wife grabbed my ear and headed for the log. My head was turned as I was dragged staggering behind her, and I saw the sunbathers standing on the ledge with their towels wrapped around them just below their armpits. One of others was on shore donning her towel, while the fourth crouched in the water, staring at us over the top of the beach ball.

By the time my wife sat on the smooth weathered wood and released my ear, all four of them stood on the ledge in a row, staring at us with their towel wrappings looking like brightly colored sheath dresses. Placing her hairbrush next to her on the log, my wife slid her thumbs under my waist band at each hip.

"NO!" I croaked as she yanked my jeans and underpants together down to my knees. I heard twittering across the stream, and realized women saw my profile, both the bared buttocks and my protruding erection. Glancing over, I saw one of them grinning as if she knew exactly what was coming, while others jabbered in speculation. I turned toward my wife, giving the women a full moon.

"They're watching!" I hissed, as my wife turned her knees to the left so she sat side-saddle on the log, and grabbed a fistful of the front of my tee shirt with her left hand. 

"Sauce for the goose!" she responded, giving a firm yank. I took a half step forward, limited by my jeans and underpants bunched between my knees and my ankles, and sprawled across her thighs, breaking my fall partially with my hands on the other side of the log.

"I hope they enjoy watching their show as much as you obviously did yours!" she remarked, and I knew she was aware of my erection pressing on her jean clad thigh. I quickly reached back with my free hand, palm out to protect my bare bottom, and I heard hoots of laughter as my wife grabbed my wrist and pinned it to my lower back. 

Smack! Smack! My wife quickly spanked the center of each of my buttocks with her hairbrush. Squirming, I felt my face burning as more laughter floated across the stream. I continued squirming as my wife's hairbrush delivered spank after spank all over my bare bottom. I gritted my teeth to avoid yelling as my wife paddled me. I couldn't see behind me, but I knew the women had a good view of my bare bottom being spanked. Then I started to hope the women had left since the laughter had ceased.

With a loud smack my wife planted a hard spank right across the crease of my buttocks, and I bucked, throwing my head up, arching my back, and lifting my jeans hobbled feet in the air. I heard fresh hoots of laughter as my wife placed two more hard spanks across my butt crease, above and below the first, and I bucked under each. My wife returned to distributing hard spanks all over my squirming bottom, and as the hairbrush began to sting spots already sore from two or three prior spanks, I couldn't contain little yelps of "Oww!" and "Ouch!" Fresh laughter from across the stream assured me that I was heard, and the spanking I was getting continued to be a source of amusement for the young women!

My butt cheeks were aflame with pain as my wife continued spanking my bare bottom with her hairbrush, and I began wailing how sorry I was, and begging her to stop. I no longer heard or cared if the women were watching and laughing as I got spanked. I thoughtlessly sobbed that I hadn't meant to do it, and my wife spanked me harder, growling that I most certainly did! Blinking back tears as I desperately struggled, and wailing that I was sorry and would never do it again, I was almost startled when my wife stopped and released my wrist. Snuffling, I slid down to kneeling and reached back to gingerly rub the edges of my burning buttocks, when I heard new giggling from across the stream. I pushed myself to my feet against the log and yanked up my underpants, wincing as the waistband rubbed over my sore bottom, and I was pulling up my jeans when I heard… clapping?!

I yanked my jeans over my hips with a yelp and turned to see the four young women, still sheathed in their towels, vigorously applauding my spanking! I looked at my wife, who was standing there smiling, and as one of the women yelled "Brava!" she held her hairbrush across her waist and bowed! The women clapped harder, and another called out "Encore!"

"No!" I gasped, and my wife smiled, then with a cheerful wave, turned and headed up the slope back to the Ridge Trail. My face red as a beet and my bottom thoroughly sore, I staggered after her. 

Shuffling along the trail behind my wife, I began to adjust to the pain in my bottom. I knew I would be sore for days, I always was after my wife spanked me.  As the pain lost its immediacy, I couldn't help dwelling on how those women had watched and laughed as the hairbrush was applied to my bare bottom, and were amused by my struggling and wailing as I was spanked. My wife had never publicly spanked me before, and remembering the laughter and then the applause, I became engulfed in shame and embarrassment. I hard barely teared up during the spanking, but now tears were rolling down my face as I thought about my spanking. 

"Why did you have to spank me right in front of them?" I whined at my wife's retreating back.

"You got exactly what you deserved, and you know it!" she responded tersely without even looking back, and then chuckled. 

Wrapped in misery, my tears increased as I followed her toward the trail head parking lot. I was glad we encountered nobody, and when we reached the parking lot I tried to smear the tears from my face with my sleeve, hoping to hide that I had been crying, but there was still nobody to see. My wife had tucked her hairbrush back into her belt, but I feared someone would see it and realizing I had been crying, they would know she had spanked me! To my relief, we got back to our campsite without encountering anybody. 

"How did you know where to find me?" I asked.

"I had seen those girls go by with their towels from the tent," she replied, "and it only took a few minutes after you left to realize what you might be up to!" She looked at me coldly.

"I grabbed my hairbrush and looked at the trail map," she said, "and headed for the Ridge Trail. I was worried about finding where you went off trail when I saw you come out of the woods way up ahead. I followed as you went further along the trail, then dove back in the woods. I figured you were trying to get a better view, but now I knew exactly where you went!"

She grinned, and then looked more sympathetically at my tear and dust smeared face.

"Now your punishment's over and done!" she proclaimed, "but you should go wash your face at the sink in the bathhouse while nobody's around. Should I come with you?"

"No, I'll be OK," I said, looking at the hairbrush in her belt, and thinking my punishment was over for her but I'd be feeling it all week. So off I went.

                         ◇   ◇  ◇

Early the next afternoon I had reclined my gravity chair as far as I could, and was lying on my stomach. It wasn't really flat and I wasn’t very comfortable, but it was better than trying to sit or even lie on my back. I heard chattering and then familiar laughter down on the Campsite Loop trail.

"Yoohoo!" one of the women called, and I raised myself on one elbow to look. They waved cheerfully, and blushing, I gave a half-hearted wave back, knowing my wife was watching from her chair nearby. The young women went their way, laughing and carrying their towels.

"They're still laughing at me!" I moaned in embarrassment. 

"At least they're not angry," my wife commented from behind her book, "they could have reported you to the park staff as a peeping-tom!"

Only if they admitted to skinny dipping, I started to reply, then realized that would only get them a slap on the wrist. If they had spotted me and felt vindictive, I could've ended up in court, and in the news, even the news back home! My face was still burning, but inside I suddenly felt as cold as ice. It burst on me that my wife had actually done me a favor by making sure the women got to watch me being spanked for what I had done!

"Thank you!" I blurted out, "um, I mean for spanking me, um, with them watching!" I blushed again and stammered. 

"You're welcome!" my wife smiled at me over the top of her book, "and they obviously aren't worried you'll spy on them skinny dipping again!"

Lowering my head again, I thought they were very right about that! 

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