Top Spanks Bottom

For Michael



"You were a cock-teasing dirty little slut tonight," you say. The laconic tone of your voice lingers in satisfaction on the words.

I'm closing the door, pushing it so the lock slips into its box. I take my soft lower lip in my teeth. I look up at you in the hallway light through my lashes.

You're staring at me with a predatory grin crouched at the corner of your mouth. You tilt your head and the light glints on your glasses, making it hard to see the expression in your eyes.

I know what will be lurking in your eyes.

The hairs are prickling on the nape of my neck. Already my eyes are moistening, tearing. Adrenaline pumps fear and excitement like tiny needles through my body, my thigh muscles loosen, my cunt goes wet and soft. I'm all ready to spread myself like a lamb on the altar.

OK, yes, I wore a mini dress so short that it occasionally showed a brief flicker of yellow knicker. But I did wear knickers.

Of course I wore cute fuck-me mules on my feet. I picked out a pretty -- and modest -- set of beads: necklace and earrings; not some ostentatious multi-coloured plastic shouting: Girls just wanna have fun! I made my face up -- delicately, cuz we were going out with our friends.

Oh yes, I flirted. I had a couple of drinks, I expect my delicately made-up eyes began to sparkle. I chatted and laughed. I insisted on getting a round in instead of letting you buy the drinks. I probably did sway my arse in the mini dress as I walked to the bar in my cute fuck-me mules.

Was it then that you decided how the evening would go? while you were watching my bottom sway up to the bar? Was there a flicker of yellow knicker that kick-started an idea in your head? I didn't look back at you, I knew you would be watching me and laughing. I knew you would be enjoying seeing me banter with the barman. To see other men flirt with me will only spice things up for us, you know that some bar-boy will never do, I need a firm hand.

And boy, am I going to get one tonight.

You lean over in the light of the hallway, put a hand in my dress -- which just has thin straps so I don't wear a bra under it. You pinch my nipple, hard enough to hurt.

"You're a dirty slut, aren't you," you say.

"I'm your slut" I temporise, looking up at you through my lashes. I know, though, that there will be no getting out of it. I'm going to get what's coming to me tonight. I'll get what's cumming too, so I'll take it all.

"Get in the bedroom," you say.

I totter on the flare heels of my mules because I've had three drinks and I'm hurrying, I can feel you moving swiftly behind me. You snap the light on and I turn to face you and wait nervously. You're already unbuckling your belt and unzipping your jeans. You say in a voice suddenly thick with acknowledged desire: "Suck my cock."

My eyes light up and I start eagerly forward. Then I remember that I'm supposed to be a bad girl being punished. "Do I have to?" I whimper. I cast my eyes down and fidget with my handbag. (Actually I'm hiding that I'm licking my lips.)

I can see through my lashes how pleased you are at this. The grin curls the corner of your mouth. You say in a rough thick voice: "Get on your knees, cock-teasing bitch."

As I go down on my knees in front of you, I know you are running the little flirts I played through your mind like prayer beads through your fingers. The barman. Our friend I had a flirt-duel with. The guy who accosted me on my way back from the toilets asking for a dance -- and I gave you a look, you tilted your head so I said: "Yes."

Your dick must've been throbbing hard with excitement all night. I ought to have realised you had decided it would end like this because you didn't flirt with anyone yourself, and you let me dance with a stranger.

That man got so excited as I curved around him, occasionally bumping teasingly against him, flicking my long loose hair about. You watched like a hawk as I angled my body over the dance floor, knowing I was doing my occasional flick of knicker for you. It wasn't long after that, that you said in a tone of voice as hard as your dick: "Let's go home," and when I demurred: "You've had enough to drink."

You judged it perfectly. I am just drunk enough now to play. On my knees, looking up at you through my lashes, with my lip caught in my teeth, I put my hand in your jeans and feel how big and hard you are already. I can't help it, I start to pant with excitement as I lift out your cock, flicking my gaze to your penis jutting out past the zip of your jeans. You put your hands round the back of my head, running your fingers into my long hair. You are gentle. Then you remember yourself and give my head a shove towards your groin.

"Come on, you whore," you say.

We both nearly start to snigger at this. I resist the temptation to ham it up some more and whimper: "Be gentle with me!" because although that would be funny and make us laugh, it would not be sexy fun.

I briefly resist the pressure of your hands on my head, pushing back, my eyes staring up into your face. Then I lift your cock and put the head to my lips. I put my other hand to your balls and begin to caress and rub them. They are shaved smooth, the skin soft to my touch.

You give a moan and a push, soft enough to resist although you're not expecting resistance. I hold back, just letting my soft lips kiss the head of your cock. The wet plum head is thrusting out of the hood at my mouth. Already some pre-cum is moistening my lips, I brush my mouth rapidly over the head of your cock leaking pre-cum so that my lips get coated in a salty glistening balm.

"Ah!" you grunt at my resistance. You push your hands harder on my head, you thrust your hips so that your cock presses between my lips -- against my closed teeth. "You slag!" you groan in increasing excitement. "Suck my fucking dick!"

I open my jaw and feel you slide that thick meat inside my mouth. My tongue curls to caress, the roof of my mouth presses gently about your cock, your dick, the rod of pleasure. My eyes staring up at you half-close, there must be an expression of rapture on my face, I can't pretend any more resistance to the full satisfaction of taking your thick hefty penis in my mouth. I begin to suck, to move my head to and fro on your cock, slowly at first, then harder and all the while moaning with pleasure. You grunt and thrust so that once or twice you press to the back of my throat and make me gag but I'm so enjoying the man-meat in my mouth, sucking voraciously on it.

Unfortunately you're too excited and I'm doing it too well to keep this up for long. With a shuddering groan, you pull out of my mouth. I make an involuntary yelp of protest but you have other plans, I'm not going to get your spunk spurting in my hot mouth tonight. No cream for naughty pussy.

You let go my head and stand panting over me, regaining control of yourself. I kneel submissively, looking up at you. Your meaty cock hanging out of your unzipped jeans glistens appealingly with my spit. The light is glinting off your glasses so I can't see the expression in your eyes. But I know what's coming.

You take me by the arm and raise me to my feet. You lead me to the bed, where you sit in front of me.

I'm unable to resist lifting my skirt the mere couple of inches it takes to show off my yellow panties. They are pretty much see-through and through them is visible the dark strip of hair you leave when you shave me.

You give a snort of aroused laughter. You put your hand up inside the back of my knickers round my arse cheek. I feel a tingle of anticipation as your long fingers rub the curve of my butt.

"You slut, are you wet?" you murmur. "You ought to be, the way you've been carrying on tonight. You know what you need."

"Yes please," I say meekly.

"You've been a bad girl," you add. "You have to pay for that, first."

My heart starts beating so fast it makes my sight blur. I feel giddy. I take my lower lip in my teeth and look at you through my lashes.

It's hard to say how I feel about this. It's not my thing, I don't like it. I know you enjoy it so I would like to enjoy it for you. Submitting to something you enjoy although I don't like it makes it pleasurable, exciting. I submit, willing to be unwilling. The pleasure afterwards is more than worth the humiliation.

You pull down my yellow see-through panties slowly. You ease them down my shapely legs which moved lasciviously over the dance floor with another man -- for your pleasure. As you go, you run one hand firmly down my leg, round the curves of my muscles.

I will not come willingly to you so you pull me over onto your lap. I lie on your lap with the mini dress skirts falling away from my bare bottom raised to you. I'm tense, waiting for the blow to fall, my mouth bunched up.

You caress one of my buttocks; firmly at first, with your strong long fingers. Feather-light, you run your hand round the curve of my arse cheek.

"You are a dirty little slut," you say softly.

"Yessss," I whimper.

Suddenly ,sharply, the flat of your hand spanks my bottom: once, twice. Hard you strike me, once on each clenched buttock. There will be a red mark on the pale curving flesh where you spanked me.

I cry out. Your hand lies, gentle once more, on my smarting buttock.

"You are my dirty little slut," you say softly, as you caress the red spank mark on my pale arse.

It's as much as I will take. I would like to take more for you, I know you enjoy it, but any more and I'll probably get off your lap and hit you back. I'm crying already and you would never really make me cry.

You pull me round into your arms. Tenderly, gratefully, you kiss my face, kiss the precious tears rolling down my cheeks. Would you enjoy it as much if I were flushed with pleasure at the spanking? not flushed with tears and real humiliation? That the humiliation is real adds a quality that perhaps makes up for a quantity of smacks.

It sure is enough to get you hard -- if you hadn't already been so rock hard you were probably hurting. All evening you've been building up to this moment: allowing me to sashay up to the bar, swaying my butt and flirting; to chatter and dance and flirt. You gauged so carefully how much you and I drank, got us home in good time to make this perfect.

"Fuck me!" I sob, lying back on the bed with the yellow mini dress rucked up over my bare breasts. "Please fuck me!"

This is my reward. To be put into this state of total submission, where I receive something for which to be truly thankful. My arse is throbbing and tingling. My cunt is so wet, so soft, waiting, waiting for your penetrating cock.

Hurriedly you roll on a condom, jerk your jeans further down. Your cock is hard and up for it. I am so soft for you now that you can thrust straight into my wet creaming pussy, oh! so that I writhe in involuntary pleasure, throwing my legs wide for you. Oh God! the pleasure of you pressed to my breasts. My buttocks are tingling, you are thrusting so far up into my soft clinging cunt muscles, my arms wrap about your lean body, I'm starting to cum already. Waves of orgasm wash through me with the smarting of my buttocks like sunshine sparkles dancing in my eyes.

You were already on the verge when you entered me. The excitement of setting me off so quickly, the clenching of my cunt around your cock, you cum with grunting thrusts up into me. I wrap legs and arms around your lean hard body, clutching you hard and close as I thrust my cunt up to you and cry out with the uncontrollable pleasure.

We lie, wrapped in each other's arms. Softly you kiss the salty tears on my face.

"You're my dirty little slut," you whisper to me, in that laconic satisfied tone that I adore.