by Linn Young
It was hard to tell if she was denying him what he demanded of her or if she was trying to deny the erotic torment that she was undergoing by his diabolical finger.
Heron chose to take it as another sign of disobedience. With his finger still buried inside Riley, he smacked her rosy bottom with his other hand. She shrieked in shock and alarm. Then she shuddered when he stroked her inner wall again, and continued to do so when he laid his hand on her backside again, and did it again and again while pleasuring her moist flesh.
No longer did Riley just feel the sharp pain of her spanking, but the combination of both the pain from the physical strikes as well as the pleasure from his manipulations. Never had Riley felt so sensually ashamed of herself, that a man could make her feel so humiliated because he subdued her with physical force and then had increased that humiliation by wrecking erotic agony from her while punishing her. It wasn’t fair. She had never had any sexual encounters be so unfair to her because she was a woman and that she had run up against a man who was so much bigger, so much stronger, so much more ruthless than she, and so much more intensely sexual than any man she had ever met.
Helpless in her pain and pleasure, whimpering and wailing, Riley could only wriggle her buttocks frantically, desperate to ease the red hot tension in her loins, ground lasciviously her pelvis against his lap, as she was being spanked and rubbed into rawness. Little was she aware what all of her writhing was doing to Heron’s penis, that her small but generously curved body rubbing up against it was making it rock hard. But, soon enough, she became aware of the large bulge on his lap and the clenching of his thighs beneath her. Wanting to get her own back, she began to rub even harder against him, but also trying to make herself come, anything to relieve the aching tension inside her.
Finally, Heron couldn’t stand his own torment that was a byproduct of his punishment of Riley. He hauled her onto the bed, placing her so that she was on all fours, her backside facing him.
Trembling with foreboding, she turned her head to him, her eyes teary and pleading and glazed with need and yet the defiance and sultriness still lingering. She saw that with one hand he was undoing his belt and pulling down his pants zipper. Then she felt him re-insert his finger inside her flesh, continuing to root in her depths, rubbing against the walls. Riley moaned, her back arching to swayback, her head lifted, her eyes closed again.
Heron stroked with his free hand her buttocks, his touch cool and soothing against the fiery heat of her punished curves. He bent his head and touched his lips to her cheek, kissing it, almost lovingly, then trailing them over the generous hillocks, tasting her with his tongue as he did.
It was strange, this almost loving touch from Heron, after he had so ruthlessly laid into her, but, somehow, it made Riley feel even more feminine, more helpless, making her aware even more the vast difference of herself as a smallish woman against Heron’s brute strength. She was once again in her lover’s good graces, now that he was satisfied that she had been duly disciplined.
Then, unexpectedly, her lover turned cruel again, sinking his teeth into her buttocks, biting her as his finger continued to stroke her. The stinging bites were even more painful with her blistered skin, and Heron knew what he was doing, the pain he was causing Riley. She cried out and gave a frantic wriggle of her hind quarters. His finger found the bundle of nerves deep in her walls that closely coincided with her clitoris, and he pressed it. Riley sobbed and shuddered as the elusive pleasure inside her tightened and intensified. Heron bit her again and pressed his finger again, taking another bite even as she gave another anguished cry.
How could a man do this to a woman, she thought feverishly, lay a hand on her so that he could cause her such pain while creating intense need inside her. How can a woman ever allow a man such power over her.
But, ooooh, it felt so good, Riley whispered silently in her mind, as his finger pressed on the small bundle of nerve while trailing stinging bites on her globe, making her shudder for him.
Heron wrapped his hands around her thighs and parted them and hitched her buttocks up higher to him, and knelt between them. His hands then gripped the backside of her thighs, pressed his thumbs against the heavy female outer folds that were glistening with her dew and pressed the lips apart until the reddish swollen vulva was exposed to his eyes. He positioned himself behind Riley and lunged his hard penis a few inches inside her. Both groaned with pleasure, the small female body tensing as it prepared itself to be filled and stretched to over capacity by Heron’s great size. He lunged again, followed by two more groans, and Heron moved again, pressing himself deeper and deeper inside his lover, inch by inch. He finally gave one great lunge so that he was completely engulfed by her womanly depths, every inch of his penis gloved so tightly by her channel.
Then, to savor the delicious torment of Riley’s warm, moist depths, Heron slowly pulled out of her a few inches, then slipped back into her. The pull and drag electrified her uterine walls that were already tortured by his finger. The aching tension in Riley’s loins become heavy with heat and growing even more taught.
The small curvaceous body arched at the agony and then dissolved into shudders. Riley turned pleading eyes up at him. “Oh, no, Heron. Please, it’s too much for my pussy. Please, don’t do this to me. Please, don’t do this to my pussy.”
Heron, very pleased to know that he was causing such intensely erotic agony for her, gave Riley a very feral smile, and plunged his entire length inside her again. Riley closed her eyes to shut out the cruel sensual mask of his face, bit her lip as she endured another deep strong push from him. He plunged into her over and over, slowly, methodically.
It was so unbearable for her, almost unendurable, that she sobbed out in a loud plead, her body collapsing under the strain of the sensual pleasure. Riley’s head fell on the bed, the agony robbing her what little strength she had left to even support herself on her arms. She laid before her very demanding lover, her head turned on its side on the mattress, tears brimming her eyes and wetting the bed cloth, her buttocks high up the air, her thighs held apart by Heron’s large hands so that her legs were bent at the knees.
Rhythmic clenching pulsations of Riley’s flesh around his penis was also almost Heron’s undoing, the pleasure in his loins almost more than what he could bear. His great body was bent at the waist so that his torso was bowed over her backside, his black hair matted with sweat flopping over his forehead, his lips skimming her naked back.
Heron tightened his hands on Riley’s thighs not realizing that they would leave bruises later on, and drew back then plunged back in. He continued to do this, savagely possessing Riley, while she writhed beneath him, moaning and whimpering, then sobbing when the pleasure was building too sharply inside her, moaning over and over, “Oh, my pussy. Oh my pussy. My pussy.”
Heron’s own hot aching pleasure was blinding, and harsh breaths were being torn from deep within him. But he continued his plunges, even as he struggled with his ragged breathing and he could barely hold himself up above Riley. When he felt himself on the verge of shattering, he wrapped his arms tightly around Riley’s waist and pulled her up and held her tightly to him, his hips still hammering ruthlessly against hers, burying his face into her matted hair, growling and groaning against her neck.
Riley felt the hungry tension at its painful precipice inside her loins, and knew she was about to come apart. She lifted her hands and fisted them in her hair on each side of her head. Heron lunged his penis back inside her and she shattered, screaming in her orgasm, her body shuddering violently in its imprisonment. When Heron felt her hot glove clamp him in a vice-like grip, he also went over the edge, and his harsh cries mixed with her wails, his arms like bands of steel holding her fast to him.
After that night, Riley did not hear from Heron for a few weeks. She did not know if she was relieved that he was staying away or she devastated that he was. She felt as if the two explosive nights of sex with him were almost more than she could handle, and she wasn’t sur
e she could go through another night of bone-crushing pleasure. Such experiences were only meant for once in a lifetime.
She began to get empty phone calls, where the phone would ring but when she picked it up, no one would respond. At first, she thought nothing of the calls, that it was a new phone number that was assigned to someone who was still getting used it, or a person trying to get hold of someone who had Riley’s phone number previously after a long absence.
Then after a couple of days of a few empty calls, she wondered if it might not be Heron who was calling, but once the phone was picked up that he chose not to talk to her. But that didn’t sound like Heron. She couldn’t imagine him being unsure of anything that he began.
A month passed since that last night of sex in his penthouse.
Riley received a call from her mother, who was almost beside herself with excitement. She had just received a package of truffles from Alana and Roy Wait. Caroline felt that this was an ideal opportunity to invite the in-laws for dinner, using the truffles as sort of a symbolic gesture of cementing the ties between the two families. And in honor of the magnificent gift, she would have Marge create truffle raviolis for the main course.
At first, Riley tried to wiggle out of the dinner, using her bar being the busiest on Saturday nights of the week as an excuse. But her mother stood firm.
“You have a perfectly able manager in your employment that you’re always crowing about,” Caroline said in an uncharacteristically dictatorial tone. “This is my first dinner that I’ll be cooking with the entire Wait family as guests, so it’s important that it is a success. That means every one of my family member must be there.”
“You won’t be cooking,” Riley muttered. “I know you’ve hired Marge again.”
“That’s not the point. Now, Riley Calderon, you will do your duty as I see fit, for once. You are Roberta’s sister and you are our daughter. That means your presence is absolutely paramount.”
As ordered, Riley reluctantly attended the dinner, bracing herself to meet Heron face to face after a month of not seeing him. But when she arrived at her parent’s house, she was informed by Roberta that Heron had not arrived yet, and that it could be that he would not be able to come due to work.
“Oh, so it’s okay for the big executive lawyer to cry off using work as an excuse, but not for the common woman who owns a small business,” she complained to her mother.
Caroline carefully lighted the candles on the dining room table. “Heron is not my son. He is Alana’s so he will have to answer to her.”
Heron had not arrived by the time they all sat down to dinner. But just as Marge and her hired waitress were serving the main course, which was the truffle raviolis, he made his appearance, carrying three expensive bottles of sauvignon blanc in one hand and a large bouquet of flowers in the other.
“I’m sorry I’m so late. I’m afraid work held me up,” he said graciously to Caroline. “I know these won’t go a long way to excuse my tardiness but no man can resist buying beautiful flowers for a beautiful woman.”
Riley’s eyes widened with surprise as Heron kissed her mother on the cheek. Gallantry was one thing she would have never expected from a coldly reserved man like Heron.
Caroline blushed like a young girl as she rose to find a vase for the flowers.
Heron then went over to his mother and greeted her as well with a kiss and then to his sister, then exchanged greetings with his father and sister’s husband. Then he said hello to his Tanner and Roberta, and even kissed Roberta on the cheek, surprising her but Riley saw that the friendly, brotherly gesture pleased her, letting her know that forgave her and held no hard feelings against her.
Then, when he flicked his eyes over at Riley, his dark eyes became shuttered. “Good evening, Riley,” he said with formality that had not been there when greeting everyone else.
“Good evening, Heron.” She made herself look down at her plate so that they wouldn’t linger on him.
Heron sat in his empty chair far end of the table from Riley. Marge and the waitress came out with the plates of raviolis.
Later, Riley would not recall that rest of the dinner was sorely uncomfortable for her. If Heron chose to treat her like a virtual stranger there wasn’t really anything she could do about it. In fact, she was rather grateful that he did, because if she drew from him any particular interest in her that was undue, it might raise some interest from the other family members. And the last thing she wanted to do was to draw questions from her family on a possible relationship between she and Heron. Especially when that relationship was very much limited to sex.
After dinner, they all joined in the living room for desert and after-dinner drinks. It was easy for Heron and Riley to avoid one another. The men mostly gathered in one part of the room to discuss business, sports, or political events. The two mothers had their heads close as Caroline showed off her family albums and Alana brought out ones of her grand children. Roberta and Riley caught up on local gossip of people they had gone to school with.
Eventually, Riley thought she would leave that evening without getting a chance to talk to Heron. If she had wanted that chance, which she wasn’t so sure she wanted. The memories of their sex were still raw and vivid, disconcerting. She had never been so…carnal with a man before. She wasn’t very comfortable with this new side of her.
But, perhaps, all that was moot point by now. It appeared that there would be no more of such wild nights with Heron. He had not called her in over a month and he was all but treating her as if she barely existed tonight.
Towards ten o’clock, the guests were taking their time making their goodbyes. Riley took a turn in the bathroom before she made her leave.
When she stepped out into the hall and headed back to the living room, she stopped when she saw Heron leaning against the wall in the hallway.
“Oh. Did you need to use the bathroom?” she asked, not knowing what else to say.
“No. I wanted to talk to you.” Then he said nothing else.
She blinked up at him when the silence continued. “What did you want to talk to me about?”
Heron looked uncharacteristically uncertain. “I’m not really sure.”
Riley frowned with some irritation. Did he think that she was hurt because he hadn’t called her after their sex. “Look, you don’t have to worry about me. I’m a big girl. I can take care of myself.”
“No, it’s not that. I just wanted to make sure you were alright. I’m afraid I was pretty rough with you. On both nights.”
Riley tried not to squirm. She was both embarrassed and aroused as she remembered being taken by him over and over, his fucking relentless in its intensity and endurance. She kicked her head way back and gave him a saucy and sultry look. “If I weren’t, then it was well worth it.”
As he stared down at her, his eyes narrowed a little, some of the earlier concern disappearing as his face hardened with sexual awareness. Then, he deliberately schooled his features. “I’ve never been like that with a woman, before. I’ve never laid a hand on any woman. I’m not quite sure what came over me…” He shook his head, a little baffled. “There’s just something about you, Riley, that gets at me. I’ve never gone for that type of sex. I’m usually pretty old fashioned in bed.”
“Believe it or not, I’m not all that kinky, either. But I liked it. With you. A lot.”
There was another silence.
Heron said, ruefully, “I still want you like hell.”
Before Riley could answer, Tanner appeared at the hall entrance. “Hey, Heron. –Oh, hi, Riley. Heron, Mom and Dad and Beth Anne and Ovid are leaving. Robbie and I rode in with them. Can we go back down with you? That is, if you’re ready to leave pretty soon.”
Heron looked at Riley for a moment, as if there was something more he wanted to say to her. Then he turned to his brother. “Sure. I’m ready to leave now.”
Not knowing what to make of their brief conversation in her mother’s hallway, Riley forced herself not to
expect anymore contact from Heron. She knew it was safer that way.
One evening, Riley stepped out of the office to observe the crowd. It was only Wednesday night but there was a good crowd and business was brisk. At the bar, she signaled to one of her bartenders for a glass of white wine. She turned her head to watch the people dancing on the floor below from the window. A few minutes later, she turned her head back and saw her glass of wine in front of her. As she was about to pick up the wine, the bartender set in front of her a tumbler of whiskey.
“I didn’t order this,” she said.
“No, but he did.” The bartender pointed over her shoulder.
A large male hand reached for the tumbler. Riley turned and found herself looking into a broad chest with very broad shoulders that were inches from her face. When she lifted her eyes, she met Heron’s dark eyes. For a several seconds, completely shocked, Riley watched him drink his whiskey.
“Wha…What are you doing here,” she asked dumbly.
Heron drained his glass and signaled for another one. “Seeing you despite my better judgment.”
“If it’s that repugnant for you, I can make it very easy for you for to avoid seeing me,” Riley said coolly, stung.
Heron grabbed the back of her neck with one hand and pulled her face up for a long kiss. Passion instantly flared inside Riley. She threw her arms around his neck and kissed him back, letting him have everything he demanded of her. It was a long kiss, one that blotted out everything else in her mind, except for that physical need to have Heron and let him have her. Heron pulled Riley up and held her to him. She automatically wrapped her legs around his waist. While their mouths maintained contact, giving each other small bites of each other lips, tongues, chins, and jaws, he easily carried her across the bar, making his way through the crowd towards the stairs to her private quarters.
The crowd parted for Heron and watched him carry the small lady while kissing her. Then they started to clap and whistle, a few making cat calls. Heron stopped and he and Riley looked around, suddenly realizing how they must look. Then Riley burst into laughter, her eyes laughing into Heron’s. Seeing her eyes shine with mirth and her full lips split wide into a warm infectious smile, his own lips curved, and he began to laugh.
