“Will it hurt?”
He looked genuinely frightened, and I fought the urge to giggle.
“Haven't you ever been spanked before?”
He shook his head, no.
“Not even as a child, by your parents or a babysitter?”
He shook his head again.
I patted my knees. “I'll be gentle. And if you take it like a big boy, you'll be rewarded. Pants off. Now.”
He slowly undid his trousers and slipped them off. Inside his boxer shorts, he had a semi-erection.
“Shorts off too,” I said.
He slipped them off and used his hands to cover himself, then he came over to me. His body movements were jerky and unsure, but he obediently rested his torso on my thighs.
“Other way,” I said sternly. “I'm right-handed.”
He whimpered and made his way around to the other side.
I brought the hairbrush down on his buttock with a resounding smack.
He tensed, but didn't cry out.
I massaged his butt with my hand, soothing the red mark, and then I smacked him again with the back of the brush.
“Two,” I said.
He peered up at me, “Exactly how many are we counting up to?”
“How many would you like?” I massaged his butt lovingly. “Or should I say, how many do you deserve? You destroyed my cell phone and my favorite sleeping shirt.”
He gulped. “Ten?”
I brought down the wooden brush for a nice, juicy smack. “Three!”
He groaned and rubbed his stubbly chin against my leg.
Simultaneous with the smack, I said, “Four!”
He bit my leg.
By the time we reached ten, he was squirming around on my lap, seemingly torn between loving the spanking and hating it.
Scratch that, he was loving it.
I could tell by the wood he was sporting, the erection pressing into my leg.
“Dirty boy,” I said, shoving him off my lap.
He stood up, saying, “I'll show you who's dirty.” His face was flushed, as pink as his freshly-spanked bottom, the ruddiness brought out by the white dress shirt he still wore.
I pointed my finger at him. “You're dirty. I'm a good girl. I'm innocent, or at least I was, before I showed up here, to get corrupted and … antagonized by you.”
He moved toward me, but I rolled onto my back and put my bare feet on his chest to keep him at bay. He ran his hands up and down my legs, his fingers sneaking in under the hem of my shorts.
His voice husky, he said, “You like being antagonized by me. You squirm in your chair when I look at you. Your pussy gets all hot and juicy. Every time you call me a bad name, I'll bet that's when you're the most turned on.”
“You twisted freak.”
He shoved his fingers up the leg of my shorts, nudging into my pussy. He looked adorable in only his shirt, his massive erection branching out below the hem, his balls moving as he moved.
“Mm,” he said, looking all smug. “Say it again. You're so wet for me. Call me names until you're begging for me to give it to you.”
“Prick.”
He took an audible breath, his eyes closed, then he unbuttoned my shorts and pulled them off, leaving my panties on.
“Smug bastard,” I said.
He tilted his head to the side, as if to say he couldn't argue with that one. He grabbed my shirt and pulled it off over my head. I still had him at a distance, with my feet on my chest, but I could bend my knees and let him get a little closer, close enough to kiss me.
Bending my knees, I lowered him to me. We kissed as he removed my bra and grabbed my breasts, palming and squeezing them.
I straightened my legs and pushed him away.
“What else am I?” he asked, grabbing my foot and nibbling on one toe.
“Insatiable.”
“I don't see how that's an insult.”
“You're a sex addict.”
He pulled away from me, and I worried I'd gone too far and he was leaving, but he carefully unbuttoned his expensive-looking shirt and hung it on the doorknob, so he was completely undressed.
I still had my panties on, and he climbed onto the bed, on top of me, pressing against me with his hardness. My pussy was wet, and I wanted him inside me, but he took his time, fondling my breasts and staring at them as if he'd never seen a pair.
“I know I'm pale,” I said. “Don't stare like that, I feel like a freak.”
“Your skin is almost blue. I suppose those are your veins.” He kissed around the mound of one breast, then took the nipple in his mouth and sucked, his eyes still open. “Incredible,” he said, then he sucked it harder, sending a twinge of excitement through me.
I moaned and brought my hips up, rubbing my panties against his hardness.
“I must write about Sheri's blue breasts,” he said.
“Shut up about Sheri, you dirty boy.”
He sucked hungrily on the pale pink nipple in his mouth, then switched to the other.