by Claire Kent
Josh pulled up, just far enough to look down at my face.
I knew exactly what I was doing when I muttered, “Asshole.”
He released me suddenly and straightened up, giving me a narrow-eyed glare.
“What are you doing?” I asked. “Things were just getting good.”
“Take off your clothes.”
I swallowed hard and felt a familiar clench in my pussy. I slowly took off my clothes until I wore just my underwear.
“All of them,” he instructed, watching every move I made.
This was someone else too—someone who was so entirely turned on that she was throbbing all over as she took off her bra and panties while he watched.
“Now turn over.”
I turned over obediently, shaking all over in anticipation.
He moved closer to me and rested his hand on my bottom.
I lifted my hips toward it, wanting it, aching for it.
“Stay still.” He slowly rubbed the bare flesh, which was sensitive from the previous spankings. “Do you know why I’m spanking you again?”
“Because I called you an asshole.”
“And why else?”
“Because…” I almost strangled on my need to raise my bottom toward his hand. “Because I want it.”
“That’s right.”
I waited. For what felt like a long time, my arousal driving me crazy.
Then he lifted his hand and brought it down with a loud slap.
I cried out at the sharp jolt of pained pleasure.
He waited a moment, caressing the warm flesh. Then he gave me another spank.
“Please,” I gasped, wondering how this was me, how this person could possibly be me. “Please, again.”
He spanked me again and then again, when I asked for another. Then once more before he rolled me over.
He moved over me again, the erotic tension of his features held in check by his controlled scrutiny. He stretched my arms above my head, holding me restrained again. “Leslie?” he asked thickly.
I knew what he was asking. But I didn’t want to escape from him. My vulnerability only increased the thrill and excitement. “Yeah. Josh, please!”
He made a growling sound and devoured me with another kiss.
I squirmed beneath him, dying for friction, for stimulation on my over-sensitive nipples and my throbbing pussy. Soon my desire was torturous, and I whimpered out incoherent pleas against his mouth.
My wrists were slightly numb from his grip, but I kept them in place—waiting to feel his strong fingers on me again.
He lowered his face to my breast, taking the nipple in his mouth
“God!” I cried, as the tugs of arousal intensified at his suckling. “Oh, oh, God!”
His bristly skin rubbed against the sensitive swell of my breast, and I rocked beneath him frantically. Just when I was about to go crazy with frustration, he released my breast and reared up over me again.
My mouth fell open as I looked at him. He was intense and feral and so big—like some kind of warrior fresh from battle. “Oh Josh!” The words were choked on a harsh inhale.
The smolder in his eyes turned into a blaze—like nothing I’d seen from him before. He made another guttural sound and shifted his grip on my wrists to one hand, stretching my arms straight above my head.
“Don’t move them from right here,” he said.
I kept my arms in place as he unfastened his pants and rolled on a condom.
When he’d done so, he lined his cock up and thrust into me with one hard stroke.
I cried out in pleasure at the forceful penetration. Since my legs were now freed, I tried to wrap them around his hips. Succeeded on the third try.
My shift in position caused his cock to sink into me even more deeply. He began to thrust with hard, rhythmic drives, pushing into me, jiggling my body, shaking the bed until it squeaked.
My orgasm spiraled up fast and hard, after the extent of my arousal and the stimulation of my shaking body and the soreness of my bottom.
I struggled against his hands again, feeling how trapped I was beneath his power. How vulnerable I was splayed out beneath him. How tight I felt with his cock buried in my pussy.
I came with a strangled cry, my body tensing brutally and then releasing in shudders and spasms.
Josh grunted and jerked his head to the side, biting his bottom lip as my intimate muscles clenched ruthlessly around him. But he kept thrusting against the contractions, until he’d pushed me into another climax on the heels of my first.
When I’d come down, he was still hard inside me, and my tightened channel could feel every twitch and shift of his cock.
He was panting just as desperately as I was, his eyes raking over my flushed, damp face, messy hair, and naked upper body.
“Josh,” I said, my throat sore from the cries I’d made earlier.
“Yes?” He rolled his hips, causing me to moan at the feel of his cock rubbing against my inner walls.
“Josh, I’ve lost the circulation in my hands.”
He blinked. “Oh.”
His face looked so adorably surprised that I giggled.
He smiled—oddly self-deprecating—and released my wrists. “Sorry about that.”
“Don’t be sorry,” I told him, shaking my hands to get rid of the buzzing. “That was incredible.” I bucked up beneath him. “And it doesn’t feel like it’s over yet.”
“It’s not.” He slid back and thrust into me again, his hard flesh stroking against me intimately and feeling deliciously raw.
Wanting to touch more of his skin, I started to bunch up the fabric of his shirt until I had enough of it to pull over his head. He lifted his arms so I could pull it off completely, and I tossed it over the side of the bed.
Now his chest was bare, and I stroked my hands over the muscular planes and coarse hair. When he pressed it down toward my breasts, I reached around to caress his smooth back.
His weight was resting on me now more fully, pushing me into the mattress, but I loved the feel of his hot, sweaty heaviness. His thrusts became shorter and faster, and I rocked my pelvis up against his motion—my clit getting good friction from his pubic bone.
“God, it’s so good,” I gasped, as I felt another orgasm building up at my center.
“Fuck, yeah.” Josh was panting hotly against the skin of my neck, holding enough of his weight on his elbows to keep me from smothering beneath him. “So good.”
I scratched lines down his back as the pressure inside me intensified, and a matching pressure in my chest deepened at his raspy words. I was huffing out little sounds of effort and pleasure, repeated sounds of “Eh heh!”
“You feel so good, Leslie,” Josh muttered. “So good, so good.”
My huffs turned into something close to sobs as strong emotion swelled and mingled with the tense pleasure. “Gonna come. Again.”
He made a rough sound in his throat and fell out of rhythm for a moment, his hips pistoning against mine, his cock sliding wetly inside me.
Wanting to feel the motion of his ass in every way, I groped down until I could feel the clenching muscles beneath my fingers. Then my climax surged forward, and I clawed at his bare ass.
With a few more thrusts and wriggles, the tension in me shattered. I swallowed over my shout of release, humming out stifled sounds as the pleasure pulsed through my body.
Josh was right behind me—pushing into me with a few last jerks and then freezing with a twisted look of pained concentration.
He let out a rough, lingering groan as he came too.
We were both panting when he collapsed over me after taking care of the condom, giving me his whole weight for just a minute as he pressed little kisses against my throat.
I stroked his back and butt—where I’d clawed ragged lines down his skin—and squirmed contentedly until he became too heavy for me to remain comfortable.
“Josh,” I whispered, pulling on his hair.
“Yeah. I’m moving.�
� He sounded wiped out. And he didn’t move.
Giggling a little, I tried again. “Josh. You’re not exactly light, you know.”
He gave an agonized groan and managed to roll off me, stretching out on his back in a debauched sprawl. I immediately rolled over and draped myself over him, resting my cheek against his shoulder.
Josh chuckled. “I guess I’m not supposed to complain about this new position.”
“You sure as hell better not say I’m not light,” I said with a scowl.
“I might occasionally be clueless, but I’m not that stupid.”
I was smiling, and it felt like he was smiling too.
“So is this just a birthday thing, or do you think you’d want to do it again?”
“The spankings, you mean?”
“No. I mean the sex.”
I looked up at his face and saw a question in his eyes. It wasn’t an urgent or a needy or a pushy question, though. Just pleasantly curious.
I wondered what it would be like to be so laidback about sex, about relationships. I wondered if I had it in me to approach it in the same way.
Then I decided I might as well try, since it meant great sex and no complications.
I could be that person, if I wanted to.
“I might just want to do it again, if you’re still interested.”
He gave a soft huff of amusement. “I’m definitely interested. I think I could fuck you forever and keep finding new things to appreciate.”
And, I’ve got to say, those words, on top of the sex we’d just had, were the perfect way to end my thirty-ninth birthday.
Seven
For the next two months, we got together for sex. At first, I had to call him, since he’d made it clear the ball was entirely in my court. But I found that situation awkward and uncomfortable, and I felt weird about calling more than once a week.
Maybe it says something about my nature, but having that kind of hot sex only once a week didn’t feel like quite enough. I kept thinking about it in between times. Fantasizing about what we’d do when next we got together. But Josh was very careful about always keeping it casual, so I wasn’t about to make him think that I was getting too clingy with him.
Then, after we’d gotten together once a week for a month, I had the bright idea of asking about our next date as I was leaving his place. In conversation, it was easier, less like I was arranging for services. Since he seemed to like the idea of getting together sooner¸ we made a date for just three days later.
I’m calling them dates, but they weren’t really dates. I’d go over to his place. We’d chat for a while and have sex.
Then I happened to mention that I needed to start running again, and I was going to try to get back into shape, and he said I could come run with him, if I wanted.
So that was why, on a Thursday at about five-thirty in the evening, we were both running on the track at the park where we’d first started talking.
He was keeping pace with me, but I knew he could go faster. I’d been slowly building back my endurance in the last few weeks, but I wasn’t nearly in the condition I’d been a few years ago, when I’d been running regularly.
After a few circles around the park, I had to slow down. I was drenched in sweat, my breathing was ragged, and my entire body burned.
“Pretty good,” Josh said, slowing down with me. “You did even better than last time.”
“Yeah. It was just great.” My tone would have been sarcastic, but the breathlessness got in the way. “Damn, I’m out of shape.”
“You’re doing fine.” He’d broken out in a sweat, but he barely looked winded.
“I’ve got to cool down. You can keep going, if you want, though. I don’t mind waiting for you.”
“Nah. I ran this morning, so I’m good.”
We did a cool down lap and then walked over to our cars. His was near the beginning of the track, and mine was in the far corner of the lot, where it was shady. I hated getting into a hot car after running.
I noticed Josh watching a dog that was climbing out of a car near his—a golden lab.
“He’s cute,” I said, thinking of Polly and how excited she’d always been to come to the park. “Look how happy he is.”
“Yeah.”
There was something strange about his face, so I asked, “Is anything wrong?”
“No.” He turned back to me and smiled before he glanced once more at the dog. “Just made me think about this dog they brought into the vet today who…”
“Who what?”
He kind of shook himself off. “Nothing. Did you want to come over tonight?” he asked, pulling the bottom of his shirt up to wipe the sweat off his face.
I checked his expression to see if I could get a sense of what he’d prefer. We’d run three times that week already, but I’d only gone over to his place for sex once afterwards, since one day I’d had a headache and the other he had to work evening hours at the vet. The running was actually a very convenient thing—avoiding the weird feeling of making a date just for sex.
Had I ever considered it before, I would have thought casual sex would be simple. Easy. But I was finding that there were all kinds of unexpectedly landmines to avoid—even just in the way we talked about it and planned to get together.
“Yeah, I wouldn’t mind, if you feel like it.”
“When have I ever not felt like having sex?” He grinned at me, looking warm and relaxed again. Normal.
“I don’t know, but I assume occasionally you might not. You won’t hurt my feelings, you know, if you just don’t feel like it. It’s not like I’m so insatiable that I can’t be stopped once the lust overwhelms me.”
He laughed and gave me a good-natured leer. “I’m disappointed. I’ll have to work harder at rousing your insatiability.”
“If you work any harder, then I won’t be able to get up in the morning.”
“Sounds good to me. So you’ll come over?”
“Yeah. I’ll follow you back.”
We both pulled out of the parking lot and headed to his place. Once we got to his apartment and he’d shut the door behind us, we stood in the entryway and just looked at each other.
Then, without warning, he dragged me closer and kissed me.
I kissed him back. Even taken unaware, I always responded to his kisses. And then we were stumbling over toward the couch, and he was laying me down on my back, lowering himself over me, still kissing me.
We were both still very sweaty, but it didn’t seem to matter. I loved the feel of him, the firm, heavy substance of him, the need I felt in his body, his touch.
We eventually remembered the condom, so he went to the bedroom to grab one, walking stiffly because he was fully erect. Then he moved over me again, pushing aside our clothes, rolling on the condom, sinking inside me.
I held onto him and rocked with his motion, overwhelmed with a need that was more emotional than physical. He was grunting low in his throat, but he wasn’t saying anything. He usually talked. He hadn’t been this quiet in bed since our first night together. But he was with me. I could tell he was with me. It felt like him.
It felt like me.
The pleasure in my body was real, but it wasn’t building into a climax. I didn’t care. I kept wrapping myself around him, trying to draw him deeper. His breath was hot and fast against my skin as his motion accelerated.
Then I felt him come apart in my arms, between my legs. I felt the tension tighten as he froze on the cusp of a moment. He shook and moaned through his climax, rasping out something that sounded like my name.
I stroked him afterwards. Couldn’t seem to stop.
Before I was ready to let him go, he rolled off me. “Damn,” he muttered. “I’m sorry about that.”
My eyes widened as I straightened my clothes. “What for?”
His face twisted briefly, and he looked down at the floor, before he looked back at me. “I didn’t wait for you.”
I realized then what he was talking about. I
hadn’t come. Thinking about it, it was the first time we’d had sex when I hadn’t had an orgasm.
It was a pretty damn good record. No woman in the world could complain.
I’d actually loved what we’d just done even more than the sex that came before.
I could hardly tell him that, though, so I said instead, “I thought it was good. I really did.”
He didn’t look convinced, but he didn’t press the subject. “Did you want to take a shower?”
I didn’t want to shower. I wanted to cuddle with him a little. That was a woefully inappropriate desire, however, and I knew it very well. “Yeah. I guess I should.”
I’d come prepared, so I had a change of clothes with me. After my shower, I put on the t-shirt and leggings I’d brought, feeling tired and clean as I left the bathroom.
Josh was at a stool in his kitchen, checking something on his phone. He still wore his sweaty clothes, but his skin and hair had dried off in the time since the run.
He glanced up as I entered and smiled. “I like your hair that way.”
I’d been getting myself a glass of water, but I stopped at his words. “Was that a joke?”
My hair was wet from the shower, and I’d just twisted it up with a clip.
“No, I do like it.”
“It’s still wet.”
“I don’t care if it’s wet.” His eyes lingered on my face and hair. “It looks like you. It seems quiet and unassuming, but you just know that if you unclip it, it will all fall down in these gorgeous, wild waves.”
I felt a flood of emotional pleasure at the words. He really seemed to believe that about me—that my quiet reserve was all on the surface, and there was something wild and beautiful underneath.
I still didn’t believe it was true. I just felt like I was experimenting with being someone else.
I said, “If you want to know the truth, if you let out the clip, my hair would fall down in a thick, wet mop.”
He chuckled appreciatively, getting up—I assumed to start toward the bathroom to take a shower. “Well, I still like your hair that way.”
Feeling rather fond at the sweetness he couldn’t seem to hide, I grabbed his t-shirt and pulled him toward me. “You sure know how to give a girl a compliment,” I murmured, stretching up slightly to kiss him on the mouth.
