BJ
Who’d have fuckin’ thought?
Layla Eden’s damn near naked ass laid out like an eat-as-much-as-you-want banquet in my lap. I gaze down at my rough palm resting peacefully on her silky smooth skin in astonishment. Freaking unbelievable! How is this even possible? My cock gets busy inside my pants and I’m suddenly harder than I’ve been in my whole life. A state I’m clearly entitled to given the exceptional circumstances—I am, after all, looking down at Layla Eden’s golden bottom sprawled across my fuckin’ lap.
You got the peaches, I got the cream, babe.
The desire to caress the pert, round shape is so powerful, its pull catches me off guard. Lightly, almost against my will, my hand brushes the smooth center of the twin globes of firm flesh. That almost imperceptible action makes her body jerk. A shocked ‘oh’ tumbles out of her full lips and her right arm lifts off the floor, sinking her balance. Suddenly it’s panic at all stations, her body tilts precariously and her deliciously long legs start flailing.
With pleasure, my other hand wraps firmly around her waist. She has a wasp-like waist. I could span it with my hands. She returns her palm back to the floor and some semblance of order is restored.
I gaze down at my catch.
Her ass is a coy little thing, prudishly hiding her anus. Originally, there’d only been just enough of a gap underneath her cheeks to show off a tantalizing triangle of lace-curtained pussy, however since the pointless panic episode, her legs have moved further apart, and she is now quite brazenly exposing a fair bit of her fruitcake. Which, I must say, for a thin girl is surprisingly plump and ripe looking. Between the fat, pink lips, the black G-string of her panties is stretched tight and cutting rather cruelly into her flesh. Update: wet flesh. Someone is getting a little excited for her punishment, methinks.
It really is the most perfect sight.
Almost an open invitation.
My fingers itch to push aside the ridiculous string and enter her pussy. What would she do? Scream blue murder, no doubt. And that wouldn’t be a bad thing. Hell, I’d love to fuck this woman spitting and hissing. I don’t think I’ve ever been with such a haughty bitch before. Even the thought has me salivating, but I’ve got to pretend that this is about chastisement and not pleasure.
‘You will count the blows or they will not register,’ I tell her, my voice dead detached.
She freezes and around my palm gooseflesh begins to form on her perfect skin.
‘Get on with it,’ she grates.
I smile to myself. Ah, Layla, you’re so fuckin’ transparent, so perfectly predictable. She is determined to get through this unpleasant business as soon as possible and never give me the satisfaction of hearing her cry out.
No can do, baby.
I open my fingers on her butt and she tightens her cheeks with anticipation. I can’t help it. My fingers curl and I squeeze the firm flesh. She moans and the unmistakable scent of her arousal hits me like a call during mating season. It’s the kind of smell that can drive a man—well, me anyway—crazy. Heavy, suffocating, insistent. I want to answer it.
Layla Eden may be a snooty, spoilt bitch, but l want to fuck her so bad I’m like those dogs that jump fences and break their legs just because a bitch in heat is passing by on the other side. Hers is the kind of body that I can spend all night, every night, diving into. I want to pick her up like the doll she is, open her legs wide, and suck until her flavor runs over my tongue and coats my throat. Hours later, when she is passed out cold, I want to be able to swirl my tongue and taste her in my mouth all over again.
A voice in my head urges, Jump the fence then. Break a leg. It’ll heal. She bloody well asked for it. Didn’t she come into your bedroom of her own freewill? But another sane voice is already warning. Even this is madness. What the fuck do you think you’re doing with Jake’s fuckin’ sister? I listen to the sane voice. I have resisted the call of her delicious body off and on over the years. I can do it again.
I could never really decide if I wanted to spank her saucy ass until it was scarlet or fuck her senseless. Now appears both impulses come from the same place. I watch her body. Frozen in place. Tense. Waiting for the flat of my hand.
I will hit her hard, hard enough to successfully convince her that this is a punishment and not the sexual encounter it is. I will be methodical. Each slap will land on a different spot. One cheek, then the other. Under the cups of flesh, and finally, where her thighs meet her body.
I rest the forearm of my left hand across her back and watch her toes curl. A delightfully involuntary response. I raise my hand and hold it suspended high above my head. Ms. Eden’s butt trembles helplessly.