In the days that followed, we saw each other only occasionally. It was awkward at first but not overly so. We had both accepted what had to be, though some days were better than others. Over time, it became livable, even working together on a few more changes to the program that had brought us together.

It was only a few times because the new requirements had exceeded my abilities, and I assigned them to one of my developers. Amy looked at me strangely when I told her. She probably thought I was reassigning it to avoid having to work with her any longer. I admit that I may have given up on my abilities earlier than I would have had my situation with Amy not been strained, but it wasn't my primary motivation. 

After a month or so, we settled into a comfortable coexistence that allowed us to be friendly when we encountered each other, but we didn't seek each other out. There was no longer any reason to, business or personal. We each assumed the other had gotten on with their life, and that was that. I was even tested by a problem she reported to our Help Desk that ultimately ended up with me to resolve. 

I had several opportunities to make funny or suggestive comments to her that may have rekindled the teasing relationship we had before. Still, I resisted the temptation, having had no personal contact with Amy since we parted at my door. Even so, a few minutes after I’d sent the email confirming the problem was fixed, I looked to see her at my door.

“Amy! Did that fix work?” I asked with forced friendliness.

“Yes, it did! Thank you, Mark!” she replied with a quiet smile.

“Good! Glad I could help!” I turned to my computer somewhat dismissively, but I could see her from the corner of my eye standing there for a few seconds. I didn’t look up because I didn’t want to encourage her to start anything. She’s the one who’d kept convincing me to take the next step with her.

I couldn’t be sure, but she seemed to walk away sad and subdued. I looked up once she’d turned and watched her walk away slowly. I felt terrible for a few minutes, but my self-preservation kicked in, and I felt okay about it. 

Imagine my surprise a few weeks later when she turned up at the door of my home. I wasn’t expecting anybody, so the doorbell was a surprise, but that was nothing compared to my shock at seeing her standing there.

“Amy! What, um … why …” I stammered, not knowing what to say, but I still didn’t want to be drawn back in, even though I still fantasized about her, the things we’d done, and those we hadn’t.

“May I come in? Please?” She sensed my reluctance, so additional convincing was necessary. “I’m not here for the reasons you’re probably thinking. Can we just talk?”

"Sure. Come on in," I said, stepping back to open the door wider. She glanced up at me with a sad smile as she passed. She stopped once inside the door and let me lead her to my living room. I sat at one end of my sofa and she at the other, neither of us sitting back or getting comfortable.

"So, what brings a pretty girl to my door unexpectedly?" I said, trying to break the ice, having decided there was no reason to be unfriendly. She looked even sadder and not about to reply, so I tried to move things along. "You must be neck deep in wedding plans by now?" I said just before the tears started flowing. I slid closer to her and placed a comforting hand on her knee.

"Amy, what's wrong?"

"Brian's gone," she replied between gentle sobs.

"Oh my God, he's not ..."

"We split up!" she clarified.

"What happened? Was it something I ... we ..."

"Not really." Which to me meant yes. "Not you and not directly," she said, sounding like she may be splitting hairs. She attempted to shake off her sorrow and wiped her tears with a tissue. Somewhat composed, she then asked, "Mark, did you feel that our time together was special?"

Afraid of where this might lead and not wanting to get in the way of a reconciliation, I decided to head this off at the pass, though I had no idea whether that was possible.

"Amy, I don't think we should go there."

"Please, Mark, answer my question. Was I imagining it? Especially the last time?" She needed an answer to be able to go on.

"No, you weren't imagining it," I replied, not wanting to be responsible for her misery.

"Thank you. I know you didn't want to say that, but I believe you."

"Amy, what's going ... what happened," I said, rethinking my question midstream. She seemed to summon up some internal strength before answering.

"When I left here last time, I was a little sad, maybe more than a little, but I was also excited about taking what you showed me to Brian. When I did, it seemed to be going well at first. We didn't do everything you and I did, but most of it, and we both liked it. At least, I thought we did, but apparently, Brian thought that I wasn't enjoying it as much as I had before. He didn't say anything right away, and he said he'd tried harder for a while but eventually decided there must be something wrong with me."

"What!?" I cried, ready to come to her defense.

"No, not like that. He meant that something must be bothering me. I knew what he meant, but I couldn’t admit it, even to myself. I denied it even then, but inside, I knew he was right. He sensed that I wasn't as excited about it as I had been in the beginning, when we started with the spanking, and of course, he wanted to know why."

I immediately became alarmed at what she might have said in her defense, which must have shown. "I didn't tell him anything about you; I continued to deny it, making it even harder for him to believe me. One day, it got to the point where he asked me to leave his apartment. I tried to get him to let me stay, but he said that even that didn’t sound sincere, and I'd better go."

"I'm so sorry, Amy! But surely this will blow over, and you'll get back together again?"

"That was more than a month ago, Mark. We tried again a few days later, but it was obvious that he was right, and I left again."

"But you'll get back together. You just need some time! And you need to talk about it," I said, the irony of what I was doing not escaping my notice.

"We have talked, Mark, several times, and we both agree it's over."

"Maybe you just need more time?"

"I don't think so," she said before the tears started flowing again. I took her in my arms and felt horrible about what we'd done and my part in it. I wished I could turn the clock back so Amy could return to that sweet, happy girl I'd first met.

"I'm so sorry. I feel horrible about this! Now I wish we hadn't done what we did!"

"I don't," she said defiantly.

"But Brian? And your wedding?"

"We found out just in time that we didn't feel as strongly about each other as we thought! Does it hurt? Yes. Am I sad about it? Yes, but it won't last because I know I'm doing the right thing."

"It doesn't bother you to throw this away because of spanking?"

"Is that what you think this is about? It's not. I didn't seem as excited about it because I wasn't!"

"So, it doesn't excite you as much now. That's no reason to ..."

"No, that's not it."

A part of me thought I knew what all this was about, but the part of me that was confused and refusing to entertain what I was hoping for took over. She was looking at me as though I must be really thick not to understand, and I decided to let her continue thinking that.

"So, why did you wait a month to tell me about Brian? Actually, why are you telling me at all?"

"I didn't tell you before because I thought you were avoiding me, and if you were, I couldn't blame you for what I'd done to you. I was waiting for a time when I could bring it up, but when that didn't happen, I decided to come to see you about it. I was afraid you wouldn't even see me, but I had to know." She paused to see my reaction to her answer and continued, satisfied that I seemed to be comprehending again. 

"Mark, you agreed that what we'd done was special. Would you like that to happen again?" She paused but resumed before I could answer, "... and again and again?" After another short pause, she added, "I would!" Looking into each other’s eyes, she leaned forward to give me a loving kiss that made it all clear. I was smiling as soon as we separated.

"You mean that, Amy? You're sure?"

"Yes, I’m sure."

We fell into each other's arms, holding and kissing each other more passionately than ever before. When we’d part to look into each other’s eyes, I saw relief and happiness in hers while she saw a dream come true in mine. We eventually ended up in my bed, making love as we shared our bodies and our passion.

For the months that followed, Amy and I raised discipline role play to an art form as we experimented with a wide variety of scenarios, implements, positions, and locations, even flirting with exposure in semi-public settings when, one time, Amy’s red bottom was exposed to an unexpected walker on a mostly abandoned trail.

At any given time, one of us was likely nursing a sore, red bottom as we gave each other spankings ranging from playful to brutal, but always with a loving end. Neither of us was ever punished for real with a spanking, apart from imaginative role play that was always an inspiration for a good, hard spanking, wherever we may be.

We admitted to each other that spanking couldn’t be the foundation upon which to build a relationship. Still, it was the glue that provided an intoxicating mixture of passion and pain that kept us together for enough time to know each other better and better.

But getting to know someone better isn’t always better for the relationship. We learned that we didn’t have much else in common to base the non-spanking part of our relationship on. We were of one mind when licking, spanking, and fucking each other, but not so when we weren’t.

It wasn’t something we discussed, as I suspect neither of us wanted to face that particular truth and risk losing the sensational sex, but we both knew it and strongly suspected the knowledge was shared. It didn’t seem to affect the sex at first, but after a while, it had to. At some point, I’m sure she felt as I did that some of the enthusiasm was waning, and wondered whether it would continue to decline. I hoped that at some point, we wouldn’t spend quite so much time together but would continue to seek the other out when the mood or desire was there.

It was a week or so after a spanking session that was better than recent times, but not like it used to be, that Amy was again on my doorstep in tears. Like last time, she came in and asked if we could talk. Of course, I accepted but was immediately afraid this wouldn’t turn out well.

“What’s wrong, Amy?”

“Oh, Mark, I don’t know how to say this,” she said, reaching out to me for a hug. Not a good sign, I thought. “What we have has been so special! A year ago, I couldn’t have imagined being this desirable, wild, and sexy girl I’ve become; that you made me!”

“But …,” I said, expecting that as the next word.

“Brian’s back, Mark,” she said through new tears. “He said he realized he’d judged me unfairly, and it’s taken him a long time to get the courage to talk to me again. I didn’t react right away, but I saw him again the next day and the next, and I realized I did miss him and still loved him.”

“Amy, I don’t want to mess this up for you, but you do remember why he broke up with you, don’t you?”

“Yes. I decided to try again after a couple of days. Then, when I told him, only half seriously, that he needed to be spanked for how he treated me, he agreed immediately, which was really good! Not like we used to be, but we’ll get there. I’m sure you realized, like me, that we aren’t quite as excited as we used to be.”

“Yes, I have, and I knew you’d realized it as well, but it makes me very sad to admit it. We did have something exceptional. You are incredibly desirable and sexy and amazingly wild, Amy! We weren’t in love in the classic sense, but in a very special way, I do love you!”

“Oh, Mark!” she cried as she planted her lips on mine, probably for the last time, for a deeply passionate kiss. When we separated, we stared into each other’s eyes with love and sadness. “I love you too! Could we have just one more time together?” she offered, but whether she meant it or it was just some kind of concession, the answer would have to be the same.

“I’d love to, but we both know we shouldn’t. Tell Brian he’s a very lucky guy! I’ll remember you always, Amy!”

We hugged and kissed once more, but then she took my parting comment as the dismissal it was meant to be and turned to leave. She took my hand as she went through the door, and as she pulled away, we both accepted that we were finally no more.

~~~~^~~~~

I hope you enjoyed amazing Amy as I did, despite the sad outcome. Remember to 'like' and/or 'favorite' it ... Amy would like that.