And then I’ll offer my body to him. I’ll tell him to take me any way he pleases, in any hole he chooses. I’ll grant him my flesh in return for the mess I’ve put him in.
He’s going to understand. Everything is going to be totally fine in the end.
I hope.
******
I knock on the double doors of his home while I smile at the peephole. He might be loaded with cash, but Mr. Peterson hasn’t bothered to fix the doorbell.
I’m wearing a super short black ruffle skirt and fuck-me pumps to match. I’ve got a pretty blouse over my push up bra that makes my tits look huge.
I bite down on my bottom lip to keep it from trembling. I try my best not to calm my nerves, to stop myself from getting too worked up. I don’t really have any idea how he’s going to react when I tell him how much of his money I’ve stolen.
But I’m committed now. It’s too late to change my mind.
“Maddie?”
I’m patting my skirt down in the back, admiring my ass when Mr. Peterson opens the door.
“Good morning, Mr. Peterson!” I give a shy little wave, elbow tucked at my side, heels clicking together. His eyes give me a quick up and down, pausing on my breasts longer than he probably meant to.
The sun peeking over the suburban homes behind me illuminates my slim physique, radiating on my sleek blond curls. I beam at him, twisting at my waist with hands folded behind my back.
Is he blushing?
The redness in his cheeks makes him suddenly self-conscious. He glances down at his Rolex saying, “Wow, you’re up early! What’s up?”
I’m not sure how to say it, so I just ask, “Do you think I could come inside for a bit? I really need to talk to you.”
“About wha—I mean, sure,” he says, then he glances behind himself to look into the dimly lit hallway. He steps out from behind the door and I can’t help ogling at his shirtless body. “I wasn’t expecting anyone.”
I pinch the corner of my bottom lip, eyes fixated for a moment on his crotch. The giant bulge in his pants sends a wave of heat from my chest down to my slickening pussy. My pink manicured nails dance at the edge of my lips, giddy with the excitement gathering between my legs.
“Just let me grab a shirt. Come on in…”
“Oh, I don’t mind. really.” I smile wide, allowing my eyes to take in as much as they want before returning to his flushed cheeks. “I’d rather you be comfortable.”
He shoots a quizzical look, curious about what exactly I’ve come to talk about. Then he shrugs and opens the door wider to invite me in. “Well, if you don’t mind…”
There’s a momentary pause. Our eyes meet, staring blankly between slow blinks. Then we burst into laughter at the same time and the brief awkwardness is dead.
My heels click on the immaculate tile floor leading to the living room. Mr. Peterson has an adorable maid that keeps the place totally spotless.
I told her once how I feel about Mr. Peterson. I asked her to keep it a secret, but I don’t think she really understood me anyway.
“Yes, yes… Mr. Peterson very good man,” she said. Her English isn’t that great.
But she wouldn’t be here on a Saturday.
“Well, have a seat,” he says, motioning to the brown plush couch. “Can—can I get you anything?” I can tell he’s nervous, but that’s pretty typical around me. Especially when I’m dressed like a hot little slut.
“I need to tell you something,” I say. I pat the cushion next to me and he takes a seat there. “The thing is—I…”
Fuck. This is harder than I thought it was going to be. I turn to him, tucking a glossy strand of hair behind my ear. I can’t help sneaking another peek at his crotch. The sheer size of him apparent through the bulging fabric.
My lip starts to quiver. My breaths are becoming rapid. My knees rub together at the slick desire building in my needful center. My pussy pulses and aches to the rhythm of my quickening heart.
Fuck it—I can’t bear to see the disappointment on his face.
“I think you’re really hot, Mr. Peterson.” The words just came out on their own. His eyebrows rise in time with a noticeable flinch of his dick.
“You what?” Shit. This isn’t how I was expecting the conversation to go. And yet, all I can think about his what his cock must taste like. “Are you feeling all right Maddie?”
“It’s true. Ever since we first met, I’ve wanted…” I make a bold move and place a soft hand between his legs. I can feel him throbbing, swelling under my palm, the blood rushing from his face down to his stiffening dick. “I’ve wanted to fuck you.”
Mr. Peterson’s dick twitches in my hand, growing more erect at every spoken word. His eyes are locked with mine like orbs of swimming hazel. He’s mesmerized, unable to muster a response.
So I use the opportunity to make my move. I crouch down in front of him, then push his knees apart and lean my head in between them.
Pink nails sink beneath the waist of his khakis and I tug them down to his knees. My eyes light up as I peel back his briefs.
Mr. Peterson seems to be in a state of shock. I gasp at the size of him. It’s thicker and longer than any dildo I’d fit inside me.
A slippery tongue traces the edge of my eager lips. I bat my eyelashes, smirking as my lustful gaze provokes a trembling apprehension on his face. Then my smirk curls to form a devilish grin.
I wonder if I can fit him all down my naughty little throat.
Soft, crimson lips part and a clear film of spit stretches between them. Hot breath spills from my moist cavern. My long hair drapes over his thighs as my head lowers slowly, until…
“Maddie? What are you—“ But his words are interrupted by the warmth and wetness of my mouth on his cock.
“Mm-mmh…” I mutter an incompressible string of syllables with a mouth full of dick. My eyelids flutter at the sweet and salty taste of him.
“Ungh!” Mr. Peterson moans deep and tilts his head back over the couch. Then the room is filled with nothing but the wet slurping sounds of his dick getting sucked.
His whole body jolts when I grope his balls and press the flat of my tongue against his shaft. His stiff dick is enveloped in a hot breathy sigh as I lap along its length, playing around the neck and teasing the head.
“Fuck, Maddie… that feels amazing.” Shit, he doesn’t even know what I can really do.
I wrap slender fingers around the head, lifting it to align with my gaping hole. I take in a deep breath of air before plunging myself on his throbbing cock.
“Fuck!” He groans when he slips inside the back of my throat, nearly all the way. I fight the urge to retch and force myself down farther. Lucky for him, I’ve had a lot of practice at this.
Using his legs for leverage, I push down until I feel him lodged in my esophagus. A thick spurt of bubbly spit drools from the edge of my lips.
The gag reflex forces my throat muscles to clench around his enormous girth. I bob up and down on his cock, stroking the entire length inside my spasming throat. Mr. Peterson groans to every swivel of my head and passionate lap of my tongue.
His thigh muscles start to twitch and my body shakes on top of his quaking legs. My hand tickling his scrotum feels his balls retracting and a subtle flinch of his dick. I think Mr. Peterson is about to cum in my…
“Agh!” Mr. Peterson’s deep moans fill the room. His head jerks back as the thick veins of his cock pulse hard against the lining of my throat. My bloodshot eyes swell with tears, my neck straining to hold the whole thing in. The orgasm rolls through his shuddering body while his cock pumps its warm cum down my esophagus.
Mr. Peterson writhes, hands holding the sides of my face, moaning with every bounce and twist of my head while I suck him off like a true expert. His pelvis drills into the back of my throat with sporadic thrusts as I milk the semen from his balls. A white mix of spit and cum trickles down the shaft. My tongue licks and curls to lap up every lost drop.
When the trembling in his
legs subsides, I lift off his cock and hold the warm load in my open mouth for him to see. I roll the spunk around with my tongue, feeling the sticky viscous stuff cling to my tongue and the inside my cheeks. Mr. Peterson watches me with dilated pupils while his erection continues to twitch and dribble. His cock shimmers in a sloppy wet sheen of my saliva.
“Mmm…” My lashes flutter when his cum sloshes down my eager chute. I manage to gulp it down in a single delicious swallow. “Tastes good.” My tongue circles my lips, lapping up the remnants above my chin. I wipe across my face with the back of a hand and beam up at him between his trembling knees.
Mr. Peterson sinks down into the cushions with eyes glazed over. I curl up beside him and trace a fingertip playfully on his cock, finding pleasure in watching him twitch and squirm to the lightest touch.
******
“There’s still something I need to tell you,” I say. I find a sudden confidence and decide to finally come clean. After all, I just gave him an amazing blowjob. How angry could he possibly get? “The thing is, I…”
Mr. Peterson props his head up and turns to me. “What is it?”
“I—I stole your credit card.” There, I said it. It’s out there now. He doesn’t seem to react, just blinks slowly. “And I ran up quite a lot of charges.” It feels so good to finally get out of my system.
But there’s still no reaction.
Mr. Peterson just stares blankly. He is starting to make me nervous. Is he really that angry? “Mr. Peterson? Say something…”
Then he bursts into laughter. He sits upright and puts an arm over my shoulders, laughing hysterically.
What’s going on?
He pauses a moment to look me in the eyes, like he’s reading them to see if I’m being serious or not. His eyes squint and his face contorts. He can’t hold back a second wave.
My eyes shift uncomfortably. I join him with a nervous giggle.
“What—what’s so funny, Mr. Peterson?”
“You thought…” he says, patting my shoulder, “you thought I didn’t know!” He lurches forward and starts in on another fit of laughing.
“You mean… you already knew?”
Mr. Peterson’s laughter comes to an abrupt end. His expression is suddenly very serious.
“What, do you take me for some kind of idiot?”
“I—how did you—“
“I’ll ask you again.” He’s standing now, pulling up his underwear and buttoning his pants. “Do you take me for some kind of idiot?”
“No!” I shake my head.
“You mean no, sir.”
“No, sir!” I curl up on the couch, tucking my knees to my chest. “I swear!”
“Of course I knew. In fact, I’ve known all along.” He glares down at me. His eyes are cold and distant. “The credit card company called me the first time you made a purchase.” He flashes a sinister grin. “A magic wand dildo, wasn’t it?”
My pale cheeks go flush with embarrassment. I can’t bear to look at him with those condemning eyes. My head sags and my hair falls over my face, the dark strands clinging to my cheeks wet with tears.
“I always figured you were a kinky little brat.”
I’m a total mess. And yet, there’s a voice stirring inside me. Not of shame, but excitement.
Now Mr. Peterson knows the truth about what I am. My mind wants to be ashamed, but instead I feel liberated. I don't have to hide it anymore.
“How can I make it up to you?” I ask, sniffling. “I just want to make it right.”
“Oh, you will.” He leans down and scoops under my clenched jaw, raising my head to watch me fight back the tears. “By accepting the punishment you deserve.”
A sudden chill runs the length of my spine, forcing me to perk up on the couch. His words seem to activate a strange desire within me, a secret urge I was hardly familiar with. A desire to be punished.
“Y—yes…” I say. His brows furrow. “I mean—yes, sir.” My pussy quivers at the thought. I want to say it. Need to say it. He has my permission to do with me as he pleases. Take me however he wants. “Yes! I’ll give you my body and everything else. Just—just forgive me, sir! please!”
“Then get undressed.”
I do as instructed, quickly and obediently.
“Wait,” he says. I freeze in place when my bra crumples to the floor beside my shirt. He grabs a cupful of naked breast and flicks at its hard, perky center. He watches me writhe in place as the tingling bursts of pleasure branch out to every nerve.
He pinches the stiff nipple between thumb and forefinger and gives it a rough twist.
“Agh!” The searing pain shoots through me and my knees wobble. I bite down hard on my bottom lip to stifle a scream, squinting as the soft tissue stretches around his fingers.
“Do you want me to stop?” Mr. Peterson grins, then twists harder.
“N—no, sir!” I manage through a gasp, doing my best to hide as much visible pain. He wants me to give in. Wants to prove that I’m not worthy of his forgiveness. But I am determined to accept his punishment.
My head tilts back and I grit my teeth behind pursed lips. I just want to scream. I don’t know if I can hold it in.
Then the pain subsides in a kind of wet, swirling pleasure. I look down to see Mr. Peterson’s lips seal around the areola. He stuffs the breast in his mouth and licks wildly on the nipple, slurping and sucking while he holds me against the hardness of his bare chest.
My back arches and I let out a long, deep moan. His arm wraps tight around the small of my back to hold me in place while my neck rolls to the electric sensation of his tongue.
His mouth peels off and my tit gleams with a dripping coat of saliva. Supple breasts heave above the soft billows of my stomach as I draw in slow, heavy breaths.
Wiping the spit from his mouth, he says, “Now take off your skirt.”
“S—sorry?” I immediately regret saying it. His amber eyes light up like a blaze of fire.
“My forgiveness does not come easy, and neither will your punishment.” He gives my breast a hard squeeze, his fingers threatening another excruciating twist of the nipple.
I shimmy out of the tiny skirt and stand before him with self-conscious hands fidgeting at my navel. Mr. Peterson snorts, looking me up and down, his eyes glossing over the flare of my hips, down to the white pumps I’m still wearing, and settling on my pink lace panties.
I’ve never felt so exposed.
“Now turn around, and bend over,” he says, lifting off his shirt. His voice is cold and callous.
There’s a long pause, and I quickly regret hesitating. With just one raised eyebrow, he compels me to obey. The ripples of his powerful torso flex with commanding authority. I know where this is going.
The truth is I desire to receive his punishment. In fact, I’ve never wanted anything so badly. To be taken by the man I am in love with, to be disciplined by his hand.
“Y-yes, sir.” It feels good to be so deliciously naughty.
His hand traces over the contours of my waist, gliding over the slender, pale curves as I turn and bend. I pinch my bottom lip with my teeth when the hand rolls over the taut skin of my perfect round ass. Then I let out a surprised yelp when he squeezes a handful-sized chunk.
“You’ve been a very naughty little girl, Maddie.”
My heart pounds in my chest when his fingers dip beneath the waist of my panties. He brings them down to mid-thigh in one sudden jerk, revealing the dripping sex between my legs.
A smooth, caressing hand rolls over my ass cheeks, sending a chill up my spine that raises the tiny hairs at the back of my neck. My eyelids droop in resignation of the coming punishment.
SMACK!
The whip-cracking sound of his palm landing square against my ass is followed by the long, deep moan of air expelling itself from my lungs. My pussy flutters to the stinging pain crawling up my backside.
SMACK!
“Ungh!” My shoulders spasm to the force of his next blow against the oth
er cheek. What was once a pale shade is now a colorful pink. My hips writhe to the sharp tingling pleasure.
He unleashes a flurry of spanks, each one more potent than the last. My manicured fingernails dig deep into the skin of my knees while I clutch them for balance. My face contorts between shrill moans, punctuated by the resounding slap of skin against skin.
At last, he gives pause. The residual tingles of pain cause me to whimper in tiny squeaks between heavy, rapid breaths. What was at first a rosy pink discoloration is a stained red and purple marking of his handiwork.
She Wants It Rough Page 18
