directed me with gentle hands on my shoulders. I stood there in my blouse, panties and heels, suffering his inspection. I desperately wanted to cover my nether regions but knew better. Besides, this was nothing. I knew what was coming.
It made me quiver.
“Unbutton your blouse.”
I did. As soon as it fell open, he reached for me, caressing my belly and hips with broad, flat palms.
“You feel wonderful. Warm and soft.” He felt wonderful too. Just the touch of his skin on mine electrified me.
Heat surged in me. If he touched me just right, I would probably come right there on the spot. He would probably punish me for that too.
He tipped up my chin until our eyes met. “Are you okay?”
I nodded.
“Are you ready to continue?” His tone was unsteady, intense.
I swallowed. “Yes.”
“Take it off.”
From the tone of his voice, he was as beleaguered as I. As hungry as I. I took advantage of that and slowly slipped my blouse from my shoulders, catching it around the bosom for a heartbeat before letting it go.
Quaking, I stood there before him in matching black lace. Nearly naked.
His Adam’s apple worked as he studied me at length. Then he stepped closer, thumbed a nipple through the rough material of my bra. Lightly. Gently. The ghost of a touch.
I threw back my head and groaned. Hot sizzling energy sliced through me from tits to ass. Cream dampened my inner thighs. I pressed my legs together and a shudder racked me.
He smiled and took my hand in his. “I think it’s time. I think you’re ready.” He led me to an overstuffed ottoman in front of the overstuffed couch. He sat and looked up at me, patting his lap. “You know what to do.”
Dear God. I did. I didn’t want to assume the position.
But I did. Slowly, carefully and with great trepidation, I draped myself over his thighs. They were so firm. I scooted up a little higher and rocked my clit against them. Pleasure and anticipation trickled through me.
He didn’t begin immediately, damn him. Instead he tantalized my ass with that palm, around and around until I wanted to scream with frustration. His fingers, those disquieting digits, traced the band of my panties until I thought for certain I would go mad. In the end, I settled for squirming.
He liked that. He rewarded me with a swift pass over my pussy.
“You’re so wet.” His voice was harsh, hungry.
“What are you waiting for?”
His chuckle resonated to my bones. “Don’t you know?”
I glared at him over my shoulder. He allowed it. For a moment. Then he firmly guided me back into position. He resumed the agonizing stroking until I was a wild thing.
When I snarled at him, he just laughed. “Don’t you know what I’m waiting for?”
“No. No I don’t. Tell me. Please—”
The first stoke was fast and harsh and hard. I think I came a little right then.
“Yes. That’s what I wanted.” Another. Heat, the exact size and shape of his palm, sliced through me. “I wanted you to beg for it.” He smacked me again.
“Oh yes. Yes. Please.”
And again. His hand rained down in a torrent of heaven and hell again and again and again. The smacks echoed through the room, along with my moans and groans and his labored breathing. My ass jiggled with each blow.
They came quicker. More fervent. More frenzied. I writhed, struggled against him, riding him almost, seeking the bliss I needed.
“More,” I gasped. “Harder.”
He complied. Five. Six. Seven more slaps.
And then just as I was about to crest, just as I was about to explode in ecstasy, he stopped. I barely had time to cry out my denial, when he ripped my panties off. Without pause he shoved three fingers into my weeping cavern, deep, unyielding and urgent.
And I came. Like an erupting volcano. A volcano gushing furious lava that had been held captive beneath a ton of cold granite for an eternity. Finally— finally —released in a glorious flood. I came and came, clutching at him with an intensity I had not
It made me quiver.
“Unbutton your blouse.”
I did. As soon as it fell open, he reached for me, caressing my belly and hips with broad, flat palms.
“You feel wonderful. Warm and soft.” He felt wonderful too. Just the touch of his skin on mine electrified me.
Heat surged in me. If he touched me just right, I would probably come right there on the spot. He would probably punish me for that too.
He tipped up my chin until our eyes met. “Are you okay?”
I nodded.
“Are you ready to continue?” His tone was unsteady, intense.
I swallowed. “Yes.”
“Take it off.”
From the tone of his voice, he was as beleaguered as I. As hungry as I. I took advantage of that and slowly slipped my blouse from my shoulders, catching it around the bosom for a heartbeat before letting it go.
Quaking, I stood there before him in matching black lace. Nearly naked.
His Adam’s apple worked as he studied me at length. Then he stepped closer, thumbed a nipple through the rough material of my bra. Lightly. Gently. The ghost of a touch.
I threw back my head and groaned. Hot sizzling energy sliced through me from tits to ass. Cream dampened my inner thighs. I pressed my legs together and a shudder racked me.
He smiled and took my hand in his. “I think it’s time. I think you’re ready.” He led me to an overstuffed ottoman in front of the overstuffed couch. He sat and looked up at me, patting his lap. “You know what to do.”
Dear God. I did. I didn’t want to assume the position.
But I did. Slowly, carefully and with great trepidation, I draped myself over his thighs. They were so firm. I scooted up a little higher and rocked my clit against them. Pleasure and anticipation trickled through me.
He didn’t begin immediately, damn him. Instead he tantalized my ass with that palm, around and around until I wanted to scream with frustration. His fingers, those disquieting digits, traced the band of my panties until I thought for certain I would go mad. In the end, I settled for squirming.
He liked that. He rewarded me with a swift pass over my pussy.
“You’re so wet.” His voice was harsh, hungry.
“What are you waiting for?”
His chuckle resonated to my bones. “Don’t you know?”
I glared at him over my shoulder. He allowed it. For a moment. Then he firmly guided me back into position. He resumed the agonizing stroking until I was a wild thing.
When I snarled at him, he just laughed. “Don’t you know what I’m waiting for?”
“No. No I don’t. Tell me. Please—”
The first stoke was fast and harsh and hard. I think I came a little right then.
“Yes. That’s what I wanted.” Another. Heat, the exact size and shape of his palm, sliced through me. “I wanted you to beg for it.” He smacked me again.
“Oh yes. Yes. Please.”
And again. His hand rained down in a torrent of heaven and hell again and again and again. The smacks echoed through the room, along with my moans and groans and his labored breathing. My ass jiggled with each blow.
They came quicker. More fervent. More frenzied. I writhed, struggled against him, riding him almost, seeking the bliss I needed.
“More,” I gasped. “Harder.”
He complied. Five. Six. Seven more slaps.
And then just as I was about to crest, just as I was about to explode in ecstasy, he stopped. I barely had time to cry out my denial, when he ripped my panties off. Without pause he shoved three fingers into my weeping cavern, deep, unyielding and urgent.
And I came. Like an erupting volcano. A volcano gushing furious lava that had been held captive beneath a ton of cold granite for an eternity. Finally— finally —released in a glorious flood. I came and came, clutching at him with an intensity I had not
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