Twenty? Oh my god. Why didn’t I say no to this? I could tell him to stop, but I sense he’ll be disappointed if I do, and at the same time, I’m curious. Why do people like this? Yes, I’m turned on by lying over his lap like this, but that sting!
He runs his hands over my behind, taking the edge off the pain. I could have him massage me there forever, soothing my skin, but that won’t happen. He’s doing this for my pleasure as well as his, for sure, but I don’t know whether I’ll ever want to repeat this.
I’m expecting him to spank me again, but it’s still a shock when his hand leaves my bottom and comes down five times in quick succession. I don’t have time to react to one sting before receiving another, no time to think, just to feel, to squeal and twist and wriggle.
I catch my breath as his hand runs over my hot skin. Despite the sting, or maybe because of it, I know I’m incredibly, disturbingly wet. My body betrays how aroused I am by this whole thing, by allowing myself to be spanked naked over his lap, by his hard cock against my side, the promise there.
His fingers stray to my clit and I moan.
“Soaking,” he says. “So wet for me, and you’re going to get wetter.” He cups me between the legs, teasing me against the heel of his hand, while his other hand spanks me once more. I yelp and squirm against his palm.
“Do you want me to stop?”
“No,” I manage. I’m getting used to the blood and heat rising in my skin, the burning sensation, the sweet pain of it. I raise my hips for him. I want this. I am literally in his hands.
Another volley of resounding swats on my behind, and I’m squirming and crying out, not sure which way is up. All that I know is that on some level, I love this.
He smooths his hand over my hot rear. Then his fingers start again, toying with my wet folds, driving me insane. Pleasure and pain. Pain and pleasure. I have never felt so alive.
Just as I topple over the edge, he gives me a final spank and I come, shuddering over his lap.
He pulls me up and holds me, and I hug him back so tight. I don’t want to let go.
“You’re all right?” he asks. “I wasn’t too hard on you?”
“Not too hard. I’m more than all right.”
He smiles down at me and kisses my nose. “Maybe I should have punished you with a timeout on the naughty step instead.”
“I liked this better.”
“Oh, I don’t know, I think the naughty step has its merits and we should try it out, right now.”
“What?”
He laughs and picks me up.
“Reid what are you doing with me?”
“I’m putting you where I want you—on the naughty step.” He deposits me face first on the bottom of the broad staircase, my knees on the second step and he puts my hands on the sixth or seventh. “I’m going to fuck you right here on this very naughty stair,” he says. “Right against your hot bottom. Hold on tight.”
I feel the soft carpet against my naked body, and the heat from my ass, smarting from the spanking, my breathing heavy.
He comes behind me and I hear him unzip his pants. His cock rakes against me, tormenting me as he gets himself into position. I want him so much. Then he’s inside me, filling and stretching me, so deep within me I’m in heaven. He moves my hair out of the way and kisses the back of my neck.
“Your ass is all hot against me. Is it sore? I should just stop…” he teases.
“No!” I almost yell it. “Don’t stop.”
He grabs my hips and pounds into me, and I grab onto the stair carpet, pushing up against him with each thrust. I love it, the pressure, the heat, the texture of the carpet against my naked body—everything. He rams into me so fast, so hard. It’s as if he can’t get enough of me, of my body. And I am his. All his.
“So fucking good,” he growls and then he makes a sound in his throat, and I know he’s going to fill me with his heat, and I’m ready for that, but he holds back at the last moment. “I want you to come with me,” he murmurs in my ear, his words sending a ripple down my spine.
He reaches for my clit, massaging the tight little bud the way he knows I like, driving me wild, and slides slowly in and out me, deep and sure, so controlled after the wild intensity of our fucking, as he takes me to new heights of pleasure on his fingers.
When I call out and clench around him, I’m so out of it I’m not sure where I am, and he plows frantically into me once more and clutches me tight as he releases deep inside me.
“Now I had better get you to bed or we will never get to the airport,” he says, when we come around from that. But somehow, in bed, we can’t stop touching and fucking and in the end, he says, “We’ll just sleep on the plane,” and that’s exactly what we do.