Amy

Saturday night. The bar was busy, as usual for a weekend. Though it may as well have been empty for all it mattered to the two sitting in the corner booth. Amy had gotten off the plane thirty minutes ago, and Jon had been there waiting, just like he promised. It was... awkward, like they always are after one of them has been gone. She'd taken the flight home wearing heels and a black mini dress that rode just a little too high up her legs; the one Jon fingered her under the first time they went to a restaurant they needed reservations for. She endured the sloppy come-ons of the man seated next to her for four hours just because she wanted it to be the first thing Jon saw when she got off the plane. Jon had the same idea and wore his black casual suit with the charcoal grey tie he choked her with the second time they made love (and the first time she'd called him "Sir"). The first thing they each actually saw was the other smiling, because absence really does make the heart grow fonder. They looked, to the world, like a couple out on their first date.

Amy absently stirred her martini with the olive as they traded stories about their week apart, not really listening to the words but simply enjoying the sound of one another's voice. She sat next to him with one leg draped over his lap beneath the table. He stroked her bare thigh, enjoying the way she bit her lip and parted her legs slightly more when he brushed too close to her slit; her thong was in his jacket pocket and her curly, blonde hair hid her face from all prying eyes but Jon's.

"It's still early," she said to him as she finished her drink. "Do we have a plan?"

"I thought we could just lay in bed and fuck all weekend," Jon replied. "You have been gone for a week, after all."

"Is that sarcasm? Because you could have taken time off and come with me," she argued, but smiled.

"That's true," he replied, "but there are better things in this city to do than there would have been in Atlanta. Besides, if I'd left her here alone poor Violet would have been oh so put out with me."

Amy pulled on Jon's tie seductively. "True, and you wouldn't have gotten to fuck that little tiger Kat either," she purred. "I'm glad you did, you need a little girl who likes getting slapped around in your life. Fucking sadist..." She pulled him to her and bit his lip.

"Do you know that you are like the perfect woman?" he flattered.

"Oh, stop..." she said playfully. "But really, do we have a plan? You mentioned fucking me all weekend?"

"We haven't been to Touch in an age," he offered. "And we're already dressed."

Amy nodded. "But you do plan on fucking me?"

Jon laughed. "How about we finish our drinks, go home, fuck in the shower, get dressed, and then go to Touch?"

The cute waitress in heels and pearls brought them new drinks and blushed as she took their empty glasses, grinning in spite of herself and making shy glances at Jon and Amy. Jon assumed she must have overheard part of their conversation. Amy blushed too and craned her head around to watch the cute waitress shuffle away in her skirt, tossing shy glances and smiles back over her shoulder at Amy.

"Aww..." Amy said as the waitress left. "Let's invite her out next time we're here."

Jon chuckled and moved his hand up Amy's leg, placing it directly on her bare cunt. She was freshly shaven and more than just a little wet. Amy inhaled sharply and clutched at the edge of the table as she bit her lip.

"Mmm..." she moaned softly. "What were we talking about?"

Jon leaned in close to her ear. Some things, he'd learned, are better whispered than spoken.

"How do you need to be fucked?" he asked into her ear.

Amy closed her eyes and contemplated the darkness for a long few moments.

"I've been good," she answered.

"And?" Jon pushed.

"I've been very good, but my brain wants me to do things I don't think I can make myself do. I'm tired of being good, Sir," she said as her hand caressed his crotch from under the table. "I just... don't want..." She trailed off, lost for the words.

"You don't want to decide to be?" Jon finished.

Amy cocked her head at him.

"You don't want to think about what you're doing or what it makes you. You don't want to decide whether to be good or bad," he explained. "You just want to be fucked."

Amy lowered her head meekly and looked sheepish. "Yes, please," she whispered in the smallest voice she could muster.

A minute later their glasses were empty and the only sign of their passing was a $50 bill on the table. The night was mild and the sky was clear, but for the lights of the city blotting out the stars. Jon led Amy to the car and held the door for her as she demurely stepped into the seat. It was warm enough that he could put the top down, which he always preferred to do whenever possible. He took his place behind the wheel, produced her thong from his coat pocket, and hung them from the mirror. Amy stared guiltily at them, as though where they hung was a flag for all the world to see her admitting that she wasn't wearing them. Jon fired the engine of his car and let it idle as he reached into the back seat where Amy's carry-on bag had been placed, rummaged around for her hairbrush, and plopped it into her lap. It was wide and thick, made of polished wood and was perfect for spanking her with, which he often did. But as he merged onto the highway, he had other things in mind for it.

"Pick it up and put it inside you," he said. She lifted it gingerly with one hand.

Jon was trying not to let his impatience get the better of him, but driving less than 80mph was proving difficult. Amy slid down in her seat a bit to get a better angle at herself, spreading her long, smooth legs and putting one heeled foot up on the dashboard. She took the hairbrush in both hands by the bristles and inserted the handle slowly between the reddening folds of her pussy, tensing as it slid into her and freezing once it was buried to the hilt in her wet gash. She was biting her lip again. She always bit her lip when she was turned on.

"Keep going," Jon instructed. "Fuck yourself with it. I want you ready for my cock by the time we get home."

Amy slid it slowly in and out of her cunt, chest heaving and her eyes casting furtive glances every time they passed a car. The concern that someone might see her masturbating was enough to keep her from coming, Jon knew, and the longer he could keep her on edge... the more he could chasten her... the longer and harder she would come when he finally let her. Every car they passed added to her anxiety. Every mile they drove pushed her closer to the edge of breaking. One truck blared it's horn as they passed, and Amy almost stopped when she saw the driver leering down at her from the cab of the rig, but Jon scolded her and floored it to put some space between them and the trucker. (He was careful to avoid other trucks too, as the first driver would certainly have radioed the others to be on the lookout for his car.) By the time Jon merged off the highway, meandered through their home suburb, and pulled into their driveway, Amy was on the verge of tears in a beautiful, sexy whirlpool of both desire and humiliation.

He parked the car, turned the engine off, and pushed the button to close the garage door. No sooner than it had touched the ground, Jon was on her. He held her down against the car seat with one arm and snatched the hairbrush away with the other. Savagely, he started ramming it in and out of her cunt while she squirmed and screamed beneath him.

"I told you to fuck yourself with it, you stupid whore," he reprimanded.

"AHHH! Please, no!" she screamed, in that way that meant 'please, yes'. "This one is sorry, Sir! So sorry, my Sir! Please, Sir!"

Jon did not slow down. "Did I tell you to touch it a little and stop when you got embarrassed, or did I tell you to fuck your cunt with this hairbrush?"

"NO, Sir! OHH! OH GOD! You told this one to fuck herself with her brush, Sir!!"

Jon continued his savage treatment of her pussy. It was gushing wet and Amy was screaming and writhing beneath his grip on her shoulders as he pounded into her slit. She was close...

"Do you see how it's done now, bitch?" he demeaned.

"Yes, Sir, OH! GOD DAMNIT YES SIR!!" she pleaded, closer still.

"Do you want to cum now?" he asked, his tone hard but his eyes smiling. She was too far gone to notice.

"Yy-yesss," she muttered.

"What?"

"YES, PLEASE!" she screamed.

"You may, my love," Jon said sweetly, not that he could have stopped her.

Amy bucked hard, her ass lifting off the car seat as Jon hammered into her swollen wet cunt. One hand clutched Jon's arm tightly while the other rubbed furiously at her clit.

"OOOOOHHHH!!! FFFFFUUUUUCK!!"

Waves of pleasure wracked her body, and Amy came so hard that spots of her cum sprayed the dashboard. It was rare that she came so hard that she squirted, but tonight humiliation did the trick.

"FUCK! FuckfuckfuckfuckFUCK!! Oh my God!"

Jon slowed his pace slightly and continued to fuck Amy with the brush until her orgasming subsided. She went limp in the seat, her fluids pooling in the seat beneath her and soaking her mini dress. Her head lolled and she grinned sheepishly with sleepy eyes. Jon slowly removed the hairbrush from her and admired her in the afterglow. Gods he'd missed her...

"Oh my God," Amy mumbled. "Why don't I disobey you more often?"

Jon smiled and leaned in to kiss her, then exited the car to get her door for her.

Inside, Jon dumped her bags next to the coat closet, snapped his fingers and pointed to a small, round rug in the entryway to the living room. Amy stepped onto it and stood with her hands behind her back, as obediently as she'd been trained to. Jon tossed her thong on the floor in front of her.

"Lose the dress," he instructed. "And the shoes," he added with some reluctance. He did love to watch her wear them.

Amy hiked the dress up over her head and tossed it on the floor with her panties. Her shoes were added to the pile after that. She stood in the archway completely nude and awaiting further instruction. Her pink nipples were stiff enough to cut glass, her bare pussy was swollen and inviting and her thighs were wet with sex. The curly blonde mop atop her head was a mess in all the right ways, her lips were slightly parted and her green eyes were hungry. She tried to look relaxed, but her body was tense and she was making fists at her sides.

"So fucking hot," Jon mused to himself as he looked her over.

"Go into the bathroom and turn the shower on. Get in and place your hands against the wall. When I get there, remain silent until I am completely inside you. If I am not there in five minutes, wash yourself and come to the bedroom."

Amy trotted away to the bathroom without saying a word. Jon watched her ass jiggle and chuckled as she tried not to run. He took his time undressing as he heard the water start running, hanging his coat back up and folding his tie neatly. There was no way he wasn't going to climb in the shower and fuck her, but he didn't need to let her know that. In all actuality, he thought, she knew it too. But the wait wouldn't do her any harm. Amy's mind worked like a processor. She'd stand there and think about every possibility, hope for the ones that excite her the most and imagine Jon fucking her in such vivid detail that by the time he actually did enter her she'd already be on the edge.

Jon came into the bathroom and slid the shower door open. Amy was facing the wall and bent at just the right angle for him. Her glistening wet cunt invited his cock inside, and moments after climbing in Jon was rubbing against her as Amy sighed in relief. He reached around her waist with one hand and touched her clit, and Amy almost screamed again. She let out a loud gasp as he slid his cock into her warm cunt.

"Oh, fuck me," she shuddered and moaned.

Jon took her hips in his hands and fucked her like he knew she wanted to be fucked. As Jon got rougher, she got louder. As her voice got louder, Jon got rougher.

"OH! FUCK! AH! GOD! FUCK!"

The side of her face was pressed against the shower wall and Jon held on by handfuls of flesh at her hips as he rammed his cock into her from behind. He positioned his thumb over the pink pucker of her ass and prodded. Amy responded with a sharp gasp and more swearing.

"SHIT! Yes, God, YES!"

He pushed his thumb up her ass to the first knuckle. First her knees trembled, then her legs, and then she clenched down on his thumb and cock. When she came, Jon was sure the neighbors were getting a show.

"OOOOOOOOOHHHMYFUCKINGGOD!!!!" she screamed, so loud her voice was breaking. "Cumming! I'm cumming! FUCKING CUM IN ME!!"

Jon pulled her to him and pushed deep inside her as his own orgasm tore through him. He managed to keep pumping into her sweet cunt without falling down as he saw stars and shot his load deep inside her. Amy's knees went weak has Jon's warmth spread through her. Both of them finally ended up collapsed against the slick tile of the shower wall. Jon wrapped his arms around his lover as she trembled and kissed her cheek until they both were able to stand on their own again.

"Was I a good girl, my love?" she asked meekly as they moved back under the spray of hot water.

"Yes, darling," he replied, smirking. "You only messed up once or twice."

She punched him in the shoulder, then held him and laughed.

"I can't believe you made me masturbate in front of that trucker. I could have killed you."

"You were too busy masturbating to kill me. Besides, I'd have wrecked the car."

Amy grinned broadly and nodded as Jon reached for the soap and started to lather her. They looked at each other and smiled, in love, their bodies having finally caught up with their emotions. It was the same look they'd given each other at the airport when Amy had gotten off the plane.

"Hi, Amy," Jon whispered.

"Hi, Jon," she replied.

"Welcome home."