How We Became Amateur Spanking Porn Stars

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The cool drizzle has become rain; I had hardly noticed it do so. Grey misty sky. Late afternoon. Sunday. Autumn. And dreary in a way that reminds me of being a small boy playing alone in my bedroom on similar such days.

Juki and I are waiting in the bus shelter and there's an uncharacteristic lull in the conversation; it's rare for her to have nothing to say.

I look across the road at the small stone church and allow my gaze to settle on the weathered wooden carving of Jesus crucified upon the cross just outside the arched entrance.

It strikes me suddenly that maybe there is a deeper meaning to it all: life, the cosmos, love, suffering. But it eludes me again. As it always has. And probably always will.

"I'd like to know what it feels like to be caned really hard," she states, almost flatly, out of the blue.

Her frankness takes me by surprise.

"Oh, okay," I respond, not really knowing what to say, yet experiencing a kind of dirty thrill at the thought of it.

I hear something and look down the road to see the shiny green double-decker bus swing round the bend...

*

And that was kind of how it all began, the defining moment. Our story. Our continuing story. Frank. Honest. Raw.