by Tess Lamont
“You lost it because you think I’m hot?” She pressed her face into his chest as she had earlier, but this time she giggled.
“I already told you, Jil. You don’t need to be embarrassed. If anyone should be embarrassed, it’s me.”
She pulled away, looking up at him. Her eyes were bright with unshed tears.
“Does spanking me turn you on?” she asked.
“Yes, damn it,” he said. “Can’t you tell?”
“No…not for sure. I thought it might be something you were into.” She sighed, glancing up at him through her lashes. “Do I really have a beautiful little ass?”
“Uh huh,” He replied. The memory of her swam in his mind and he had to shift to accommodate the returning swell of his cock.
“The most beautiful little butt cheeks in south Jersey,” he said, pinching one of them.
“Ouch! Just south Jersey?” Her laughter started as a snort, but progressed to an hysterical giggle.
“I wouldn’t know about the nasty asses in the north,” he teased.
“I suppose I should be impressed, given the breadth of your experience.” She laughed hard now.
“I’ve seen my share of bare ass -cheeks, but yours are the first I’ve had across my lap.”
Her laughter died. “You’ve never spanked anyone before?”
What, had she thought he was some kind of ass-spanking man-ho? He frowned and shook his head no.
****
Jillian tried to read Eric’s reaction. His gaze was veiled. She shifted on her aching bottom, but his eyes caused her the most discomfort.
He shouldn’t have been that shocked. He was a bit of a player. She’d just assumed he’d done everything, sexually speaking. She had thought she could just ask him and he’d provide. But, if he’d never spanked anyone before…well, that made her plan to use him seem suddenly selfish and ugly.
She scowled. “But, you date tons of women…”
“True,” he said slowly. “But I don’t go around spanking them. The women in my life tend to be looking for a diversion between boyfriends or husbands. Developing trust for this sort of thing takes time. That is, unless you troll for it at clubs or online, which I don’t. And, I’ve never been interested in exploring fantasies—or the feelings they might create—with someone who has…” He raised a brow. “One foot out the door.”
A pang shot through her chest at his rebuke. Somehow, he’d figured out she’d intended to use him.
“But,” she stammered. “You just said it turns you on…”
“Fuck, yeah. Spanking you turns me on. Hell, everything about you turns me on.” He rubbed the back of his neck. “I may have played at a little bondage—used a scarf or a tie to spice things up—but it’s not a lifestyle for me. Did you think it was?”
“Uh…uh…um…” Yes. Actually, she had thought it might be a lifestyle for him. She had thought she could ask him to play and he’d perform.
Butterflies whooshed freely through her gut. Disappointment swirled in those pale green eyes. If she had only intended to use him, why did his expression make her hurt?
Perhaps she had wanted something more from him all long. Maybe her elation at the diner wasn’t anticipation, but hope…
No. No. She had to stay away from intimacy. She already loved him as a friend; it would take little more than one, small push for her to slide head-over-heels into infatuation. And men like him never settled down. He’d break her heart, she knew he would. She’d always known he would.
“Maybe this was a bad idea, maybe I should go.” She floundered, trying to rise.
His hand bit into her shoulder, forcing her to stay put.
“Oh, no, you don’t, Jillian Louisa Daniels.” His voice was harsh and commanding. “I will not let you run, not this time. You made me a promise.”
Tell-tale wetness seeped from her pussy.
His tone made her want to crawl back over his knees. She was weird…weird! She wanted more…
“I did not promise you anything,” she protested.
“You absolutely did.”
She winced as he trapped her chin between his fingers.
“You didn’t promise with words, you promised with your body,” he said, voice stern, unyielding. A muscle worked in his jaw. “And you’re not going anywhere until you fulfill that promise.”
Her nipples sprang to life, straining beneath her thin dress. She couldn’t breathe.
“Eric?” she whispered his name as a question.
His eyes gentled. He placed his hands on either side of her face.
“This is what you wanted, Jil, isn’t it? You want the whole scene: the scold, the commands, and the spanking. You want me to make it real.”
He’d flung open the door to her inner sanctum, the most shameful core of her spanking fantasy.
“Yes,” she said, wavering. She inhaled, quick, painful and deep. “I don’t understand why, but when you talk to me in that commanding tone I get wet. When you scold me, I turn to jelly.”
The lines in Eric’s faced relaxed. He ran his heated hand down her cheek and exhaled. Her heart fluttered at her throat’s base as he stood and commanded her to rise to her knees.
“Where was I?” He arched a brow in a wickedly seductive expression. “Oh yes, you aren’t leaving here until you give me what you promised. Do you understand me?”
The self-possessed woman in her balked. But every nerve tingled. She focused on the restrictive pinch of her pink panties, still wrapped round her thighs, and the beautiful, smoldering heat of her rear. Despite his words, she knew she could leave, she read it in his eyes.
“I’ll ask one more time, and if I don’t get an answer, you’ll face the consequences. Do. You. Understand. Me?” Eric demanded.
Her bottom prickled, begging for attention—no matter what the type. She was ready to resume the game.
“I understand, sir.”
His lips quirked at the honorific, then he scowled.
“You aren’t leaving until you’ve submitted—fully.”
Her pussy sopped. She peeked upward, searching his face for the vulnerability she’d glimpsed when they were talking, but any unease had vanished. He loomed large: all male, all ready. She swallowed through a dry, lump-filled throat.
“Yes, sir.”
She took his palm between her hands. Lifting its red heat to her lips, she kissed his palm’s hot center. She placed his hand on her cheek and lowered her chin. He compelled her to look at him again.
“You’re going to burn, like a bad girl should,” he repeated, slower this time, lacing his dark intent through the syllables.
Her mound pulsed as if Eric had whispered his words directly against her clit. If he repeated them one more time, she was in danger of coming right there, without even a touch.
“Oh God…” she moaned. “I mean, ah, yes, sir.” She was unable to stop the tremble in her legs.
“Good,” he said. “Let’s do it right, this time.”
She started to rise, intending to position herself again across his lap.
“Who told you that you could move?”
She froze, partly embarrassed, partly turned on and throbbing so hard she could have doubled over.
“Stay right where you are.”
He began to pace, his body large, his muscles tense. He emitted anger’s raw energy, and she savored every second.
“You’ve been a very, very bad girl, and bad girls never feel better until they’ve been disciplined.”
Goose bumps spread like a cold breeze down her back before trickling between her thighs. “Yes, sir.”
“I want you to think hard about what you did, what you were about to do.”
She drew her brows together in confusion.
“You,” he stopped pacing and stood over her like a furious army sergeant, “barged into my home and thought you could just curl me around your little finger. You were going to use me for your own enjoyment, without any thought to the consequences or to my feelings.”
She sucked in jagged air. His accusations were true. Raw and caustic feelings of shame burned through her body. Were they playing or not?
“Eric, you know I would never, I mean, you know how much I care,” she stammered, trying to catch her breath. She could feel a dark red blush spreading like spilled wine over her cheeks.
He placed a tender hand against the back of her head, leaned down and whispered into her ear, “Trust me.”
She nodded, sniffling. Inside, she struggled to reconcile her conflicting desires: to run, to tell him off, to lay with her forehead to the floor and plead for him to touch her in whatever way he wished.
He stood tall and placed both hands behind his back. “You came dangerously close to taking advantage of me and abusing our friendship.”
She held her breath and followed his feet as he stalked back and forth.
“You owe me more than just an apology. I think I’m going to have to prove it to you.”
She shivered. It’s just a game.
“Now, put your face down and your ass up.”
She collapsed like a marionette on strings, folding onto her wrists. Air from the ceiling fan cooled her ass as her dress spilled around her shoulders. She drew each breath up from the base of her being, the bottom of her gut.
“You’ve been a very bad girl,” he said. “Haven’t you?”
His voice made her vibrate; she rode the sound. Her need to be spanked crested.
“Yes, sir,” she choked.
“Yes, what?”
“Yes, I’ve been a bad girl.”
Her throat was tight with shame; but she could feel her wetness against her inner thighs.
He knelt by her side. “And now, are you ready to learn your lesson?”
“Yes, sir.” Please.
Again, his palm’s flesh met her ass flesh. Pain whizzed through her like an electric shock. She gasped, clenching her hands together tight over her head and stretching her back as her breasts swung freely.
As each strike landed, the war between her two natures raged. No, this is insane. Then, another, please.
Her mind bounced in confusion; her body tensed. There was pain, only pain. At pain’s center, she was more sensually alive than she’d ever been. She couldn’t deny it—whack—this was everything she’d wanted—whack—under Eric’s hand was exactly where she wanted to be.
Whack, whack, whack. She sucked in and held her breath. Pain was everywhere. She didn’t dare pull away again…besides, she was so close, so close to something she could not define.
She groaned from her gut and whimpered.
“You are taking in the pain,” Eric said. “Stretch out, let it go.”
What the hell was he talking about? She obeyed, anyway, spreading her fingers wide and stretching out her arms in full. Her ass burned as her pussy dripped.
Whack. He slipped his fingers between her legs and soothed her aching cunny. The pain slipped from her grasp and she stumbled into a place of near-bliss.
Whack. Gasp. Shiver. She moaned.
“That’s it, Jillie, let go.”
Whack. Gasp. Sigh.
She eased into the strange, building pleasure-pain. Her ass hurt, but the sting rang through her in satisfying tremors. Each spank brought her closer to a liberation she could sense, but not understand.
“More sir, please.” This was exactly what she wanted.
Her body made an instinctive, wave-like motion between each blow. Every inch of her ass and thighs pounded with delicious intensity. Fissures in her heart spread until nothing remained to offer resistance. Her body glowed. Pain was everywhere and nowhere at the same time. Sexual need pulsed between her legs and she spun in every direction, loosing pieces of her resistance as she whirled.
She released her embarrassment, her fear. She released everything but the feel of his hand and her own building orgasm. She groaned in full abandon as tears wet the space between her lashes.
He stopped spanking and dropped his heated fingers between her legs. The turbulent ocean of sensation settled into regular, rhythmic waves.
“You are so wet and ready.”
He stroked her clit with his thumb. He leaned over her body and caressed her aching nipples with his other hand. The sting made her feel as if he was in three places at once. She was surrounded by Eric, dominated by the sensations he had created. His thumb circled her clit until her moans became sighs and she coasted into shivering orgasm on the sound of his heavy breath.
Amazing. Her arms quivered as a tear wet her cheek.
He knelt and pulled her between his legs.
“Let it out, Jillian.”
He sagged, as if he were as spent as she. She buried her head in the crook of his arm and she relaxed into his body’s sway while he rained kisses over her cheeks. He held her as if she were precious beyond comprehension. His soothing breath fanned against her ear as he said, in a far-away voice, things she couldn’t quite understand—things about devotion, things about acceptance.
Her backside was on fire. Literal fire. But she floated on a deeply satisfying cloud of release. Security pooled around her like warm water, washing away the sense of separateness. She couldn’t deny the visceral feeling of belonging, the incredible intimacy of the moment.
His heartbeat’s steady thud guided her back to the present.
“Better?” he asked, all authority was gone from his voice.
She managed an affirmative gurgle.
He kissed her forehead and lay back against his couch, drawing her with him. He eased her between his legs so her bottom wasn’t touching anything. His small gesture, as most do, spoke volumes.
She wound her fingers in his hair’s softness, and shimmied up to place a demure kiss on his lips. He’d been wonderful. Perfect, really—commanding, but thoughtful, punishing, but tender.
She blissed out against his shoulder, unwrapping strange sensations, one by one: pinching tenderness in her butt-cheeks, pulsing fire in her pussy, cooling tears against her face. She ran her fingers up and down his arm.
She was so grateful, but gratitude wasn’t the only emotion floating with her endorphins. Between her legs, liquid anticipation again began to build.
****
Eric peeked over Jillian’s shoulder and examined her rosy backside. He held his hand a half-inch from her ass, but didn’t touch. Heat radiated.
After they’d parted, he’d gone straight home and googled ‘adult spanking.’ To his surprise, information had been plentiful and easy to find. Scores of spank-happy women liked to blog about their adventures. They weren’t shy about the physical details or the emotions a session could unleash. He had taught himself the basics of a good spank: how to be safe physically, what to watch out for emotionally.
For him, the experience made him want to fuck like a bunny in spring, but she could be too worn to be interested in anything else tonight.
He hoped not, ‘cause, damn, he was aroused.
But she had cried, so he checked his desire. Oh, they’d fuck, eventually, but, right now, her plaintive sighs made her seem too gut-wrenchingly vulnerable. He set aside thoughts of screwing and concentrated on experiencing her weight against his thighs. He’d have gladly distracted himself, but he couldn’t remember the first player in the Phillies’ most recent line-up.
He stroked her hair. Her sniffles were fewer now and her breath, deeper and more even. He wanted her in his life and, when she had shared her fantasy, he’d thought she had finally come to understand how good they would be together. The realization she simply wanted him for the night had disappointed him.
He’d improvised and used some of that disappointment to create the “scene” she told him she needed. Honestly, his frustration had been real, but now, not a scrap of negative feeling remained. They were as connected as two people could be—outside of sex, at least.
She couldn’t still mean to walk away now, could she? Reflexively, he tightened his arms.
“How do you feel?” he asked.
/> She giggled. Relief tingled in his neck.
“I take that to mean you are okay?”
She giggled harder, muttering, “Yes, sir” into his shirt.
Well, then. He was still sir. That had to be good.
He maneuvered one hand free and cleared the last clumps of tangled hair from her face. Her large gray eyes stared up at him with complete trust and something more. She shifted in his lap and her ass brushed against the carpet.
“Ooooo!” She winced, arching over his legs and laughing. “I’m so sorry…I don’t know what’s wrong with me…”
“Nothing is wrong with you.”
“But I can’t get enough.”
Increased blood-to-junk rush. “Oh, you’ll get enough.”
She sighed and settled back into his lap, fondling his shirt buttons.
“Eric?” Uncertainty filled her voice.
“Um hum?” He caught the scent of her musky juice. What was that Phillies line up?
“I, ah, don’t think I can lie down just yet, but…” She curled up her lip in a shy, inviting smile.
“Again, you don’t have to be embarrassed when you are with me.”
He’d say it a thousand times if he had to, as many time as she needed to understand nothing she revealed would change how he felt.
“I’m not embarrassed,” she whispered. “It’s just that I want you so badly.”
He stared down into the dark, unfocused blur of her body. Part of him could hardly believe this was Jillian lying in his arms, Jillian offering him her body and her darkest secrets in complete trust.
“Let’s see how much you want me.”
He dropped his fingers between her legs. Her wetness covered his hand. Her legs fell wider and her soft, moist folds soothed his palm’s heat and ache.
His damn dick couldn’t get any harder. His balls were tight against his body and aching like the devil. Fuck it all, he was ready. He’d waited so damn long…years…
“Eric, please let me suck your cock,” she panted.
He stopped breathing.
She grasped his hand. One by one she took each finger into her mouth, sucking and licking. Her mouth felt like a cold beer on a hot summer day. She appeared to be making a case for her skill.
