tagBDSMCal & Colleen

Cal & Colleen

byParis Waterman©

It had been a long time coming. They had been internet lovers for some time, but had never met, not until Cal came into a substantial inheritance and on a whim, took a flight to Minnesota to meet her.

Her name was Colleen, and she was a lawyer, but when they'd met she was an eighteen year old mother of two, who had told him of her horniness; and proved it by forwarding a series of pictures with her in the nude, using various toys on herself. He had returned the favor, sending pictures of himself stroking his erection in front of a computer with her picture on the screen.

He landed in St. Paul on St. Patrick's Day, and caught her by surprise with his call.

"You're here!"

"Yes, I'm here. In fact, I'm staying at the _________, room 524.

"I don't believe it! All this time and . . . ."

"When can you get over here?"

"Well, I'm at work, and . . . how did you get my number?"

"You gave me the name of the law firm some months ago, when they hired you."


"That's all you can say?"

"Well . . . you've really caught me off guard."

"Why should you be on guard with me? We know each other well enough."

"That's certainly true, but . . ."

"No but's, either you meet me, or you don't. It's purely your call, Colleen."

"I . . . I don't get off . . . ."

"I'll wait, its Room 524. I'm already hard. So call me, let me know when to expect you."

"I . . . I can't be seen with you. You realize that, right?"

"I understand. We'll order room service and you can sit in the bathroom when they deliver."

"I've always dreamed . . ."

"Now they've come true. Are you getting wet?"

"Yes, I'm . . . very wet. I'm looking forward to seeing you, Cal. You don't know how much I've thought about this . . . this possibility."


Two hours later, Cal opened the door and ushered Colleen in, watching her slender hips sway, and her rounded cheeks wobble under the red and green summer dress, she had worn to the hotel suite.

As soon as the door closed behind them, Cal took off his shirt and tie. Colleen stood there waiting as he approached her. She was surprised at the softness of his kiss, and allowed herself to blend into it, eventually losing herself until it was just mouth against mouth, then tongue against tongue.

Their passion flared up, and they toppled over onto the large couch in the living room. Colleen vaguely saw a porno movie playing on the television, and thought it typical. 'He's about to get laid, 'he's a great kisser, and that bulge I felt a moment ago was certainly something extra.'

For his part, Cal found her kisses somewhat hesitant and a little anxious, and he attributed it to her nervousness at meeting him alone in a hotel room. He reconsidered her kisses and found a reserved passion in them that was highly arousing; and the way her tongue slashed into his mouth sent shivers through his rock hard erection.

He had waited a very long time for this moment, fantasized about it, played it through his head dozens of times. Now that the scenario was real, and not some abstract masturbatory vision, he didn't know quite what to do, or, rather, what to do first. He wanted to touch her, wanted to look at her, wanted to pull away and see her breathing heavily in the summer dress she still wore.

He wanted to lick her ear, her breasts and her clit. He wanted to feel her hands on his back as their kisses became more entangling, but most of all, he wanted to feel her hands and mouth on his turgid cock. He wanted it all, all at the same time. But that was impossible, and he knew it. But suddenly he knew what to do for openers.

Moments later, Colleen's dress was on the floor, and right after, her bra fluttered down beside it. Then clad only in her lace panties and thigh highs, which she'd stopped to buy and put on before arriving at the hotel, she looked into his very expressive brown eyes, as if to say, "What now?"

"Let your hair down and take your earrings out," he said.

A little surprised at the request, Colleen pulled out the gold studs, and the hair clasp also was undone very quickly. Few people can stand naked in a hotel room and not feel just a little nervous, especially with a man known only from the internet watching minutely.

Cal let the silence hang for almost three minutes, while he scrutinized her body. The hard nipples, the sparse bush between her legs were complimentary in terms of what was to come next. The smile she wore when she first came into the room was gone, and she bit the bottom of her lip.

"Turn slowly," he said, and she did. He saw her small tummy, her nicely rounded ass, and called out for her to stop. Her back was to him. Cal was presented with what he considered one of the most attractive features of a woman; the legs and ass; both of which were very attractive.

He surprised her by grabbing a handful of her silky hair, and forced her down over the table that doubled as a desk and dining table. As her nipples touched the surface, he brought his hand down hard on her lace covered ass with a resounding 'crack'.

"Ow!" she shrieked, even as her pale skin quickly turned rosy-red where his hand had struck. Colleen gasped, but made no move to get up. Moving slowly, but knowingly, Cal carried her over to the couch, sat down and pulled her onto his lap. Then, holding both her hands with his left hand, he looped a leg over Colleen's right leg, effectively pinning her in place, and slapped her rosy behind again.

"What the hell do you think you're doing? Colleen yelled, ending her silence.

He smacked her again, and then answered her. "It should be obvious, I'm spanking you. Remember, you sent me a St. Patrick's Day card asking for it?"

"I was kidding, for crying out loud!"

"I don't think so," he said. "Beg me to stop, or beg me to hit you harder."

Colleen realized he wasn't kidding, and as he continued to stroke her stinging cheeks, she realized she wanted this; wanted him to dominate her. It took her a full minute to get the words out, but finally she managed to croak, "Please spank me, Cal. Spank me as hard as you can."

He did as she asked, spanking her reddening cheeks with increasing force. She gripped a cushion but still was compelled to cry out with a mixture of pain and pleasure each time his hand sent her body jerking forward on the table.

Cal kept it up for about another minute, resounding slap after slap echoed throughout the suite. Colleen reined in her cries, settling for the occasional moan as her bright red behind became accustomed to the sharp pain inflicted on it. There was no longer any doubt as to who was in charge.

It occurred to Colleen that she must really be a silly sight, draped over his lap, hair flying in every direction, but mostly over her face, her bottom sore as hell, and undoubtedly would be streaked with red welts for the next few days, and how would she explain that to Kevin?

She felt his erection poking into her stomach, bringing with it the realization that she was as horny and hot as she could remember, maybe ever. When he stopped spanking, Colleen's pretty little ass was sizzling with pain and hot to the touch.

She moaned delightedly when he began to run his hand over her reddened ass, occasionally bestowing another sharp smack to it. She stiffened momentarily, when his hand drifted lower, but because of the way in which her legs were separated, she was helpless to prevent any action on his part.

Tears of joy were rolling down her cheeks when she stood up, rubbing her smarting cheeks, she whispered, "Thanks Cal that was great. You know, if you'd kept on spanking me for a bit longer you'd have made me cum."

"You never mentioned you could cum from being spanked," Cal said.

"I couldn't tell you everything," she replied defensively.

"You should have told me. I might have been here sooner."

"Damn! I didn't know, or I would have. We've wasted so much time!"

"I wouldn't say it's been a waste, at least we got to know each other. Anyway, we're here now and I want to find out everything about you. Can you cum from other things that hurt?"

"It all depends, but any pain to my tits or pussy can make me come. I always come harder when there's pleasure as well as pain."

"Have you ever done it yourself . . . come from hurting yourself, I mean?"

"Not just from pain, no. I've hurt myself while masturbating but I've always been doing something else as well. Do you want to see if I can?" Cal nodded, and Colleen said, "Can I play with myself first?"

He nodded again, and Colleen stroked her clit for a minute or two before grabbing her nipples. She squeezed them as hard as she could and gasped in pain as she pulled and twisted them.

"Tell me what to do, Cal," she whispered. "Tell me how you want me to hurt myself."

"Squeeze your tits hard, crush them."

Colleen released her nipples and grabbed her tits, squeezing them as hard as she could.

"Dig your nails in. I want to see you leave marks in your tits."

She did as he said, crushing her tits between her fingers and the heel of her hand, her nails sinking in deeply.

"Now your nipples," he demanded after a few seconds. "Dig your nails into them."

Again, Colleen followed his instructions and tormented her nipples with her fingernails. Cal saw the rows of crescent shaped marks left by her nails on her tits then watched her nipples turn white around her fingers as the tips turned a darker shade.

"Now pull. Pull them hard. Hard enough to rip your nipples off."

"Oh God! Oh God!" she gasped, stretching her nipples out and digging her nails in deeper. "I'm nearly there," she grunted, adding a twisting motion to her fingers and making the muscles stand out on her arms.

"Now your pussy. Slap it. Slap it hard! Use one hand on your tits and the other on your cunt."

Her hand came down on her pussy, and her back arched as the pleasure/pain shot through her body. Again and again, she slapped her pussy with her right hand while the left alternated between her nipples, pulling, twisting and crushing each tender bud in turn.

Through the thick bush of dark pubic hair, Cal could see her pussy mound turning red. Her labia and clit were already swelling under the welter of blows she was delivering to her body and her hips were jerking up to meet her hand.

She was on the brink of coming when Cal snarled, "Punish your cunt, bitch. Hit it hard!"

She did.

"Harder! Harder!"

Those words acted as a trigger, and Colleen instantly shot off into orbit, her hips beating out a staccato rhythm as they jerked and thrashed around on the couch. She screamed so loudly that he felt sure if anyone were in the room next to them they would be complaining to the front desk.

But it was the afternoon and no one was in the room, if it had been occupied at all.

"No, don't!" she whined, when he ran the edge of his hand over her pussy. Yet she shuddered with anticipation, and began to mover faster, and soon locked her thighs together and spasmodically wrenched her hips off the couch.

Cal realized he was watching her cum again. She was quiet with this orgasm. Her mouth was open, her eyes tightly shut.

For Colleen, in her climax, the body commandeered the voice. It was the body that expressed what rendered the vocal capacity mute. Her eyes were closed, the spasm began in her hips and traveled through her upper body, her hands grabbed at his arms, and squeezed tightly. Moments later, she collapsed and lay shuddering on the couch.

"Oh, God . . . Cal," she gasped. Her arm was thrown across her face. Some of her hair had fallen in front of her eyes. He kissed it away; his hand remained, motionless on top of her pussy; satisfied to remain in proximity to her sexual center. To be near it was enough. But soon that pledge of satisfaction was replaced by a demanding urge for more. He rolled them over so that the full weight of her body now reposed atop his in an attempt to make as much body contact as was physically possible. He held her head in his hands and kissed her face, her throat, and her forehead.

"Jesus! I . . . did it! I came from slapping my twat!" Colleen said with a half grunt, half laugh.

Cal let a finger glide along her moistened labia, teasing her, but not sending the finger into her. Instead, he swatted her on the ass again, drawing a kind of satisfied moan from her throat. The moan grew louder as his fingers brushed across her clitoris before sliding into her wetness.

Colleen was beside herself; she began writhing, first this way, then that; hoping to urge him into more sexual contact. He abandoned her pussy to explore her breasts. She moaned at the loss, and moaned again as his hand and fingers teased her suddenly aching breasts. He found them as he had expected them to be, firm yet pliant, with pebbled areola and stiffened nipples that seemed to be quivering as they awaited the assault of his mouth and teeth upon them.

As Cal worried a nipple he heard her groan, betraying her sensitivity there and he remembered he had left her pussy unattended, and sent his free hand in that direction, cupping her entire cunt, and drawing a long, seemingly satisfied sigh from her throat.

He changed breasts, leaning on the one to reach the other and was rewarded with another very satisfied moan as Colleen started rubbing her exposed pussy harder over his rampant cock.

"I want to feel you inside of me; will you make love to me Cal?" Colleen gasped, still rubbing herself across his cock, and spread her legs almost imperceptibly allowing him greater freedom.

"In a while," he replied.

"Rub me a little harder," she gasped, and began thrusting her hips up, fucking the hand on her cunt.

He looked down, saw her legs splayed wide, his hand partially obscured by her thighs as she scissored them closed on the finger now buried inside her. He tried to be everywhere at once. He moved his finger in and out of her; moved his palm up and down, found her clit with his thumb and applied pressure to that as well.

And he paid attention to each of her fantastic tits, sucking, biting, and licking and squeezing them. She wasn't terribly wet down below, and it crossed his mind that he might be irritating her, and so, he asked her, "Am I hurting you down there?"

"No, no, not at all . . . I like it. I like it a lot."

"Listen closely, Cal said tersely. "I want to explain the rules to you, there are only three. I'll go whenever you tell me, if that's what you want. That's rule one. Rule two is: I am in total charge as long as I'm here. Rule three, once we begin something we will finish it. Do you understand these rules?"

Colleen nodded at him, then stood and went to the small fridge in the half-kitchen and helped herself to a bottle of Evian water. She opened it, not taking her eyes off him, took a drink, and returned to sit back down on the couch next to him.

Without speaking, he took the glass from her and set it on the table. "Lie down," he said, pushing her lightly on the left breast. Colleen settled back on the couch and waited for him to mount her.

Cal spread her legs and fondled her entire pussy for a few seconds. She was thrusting her hips at his hand after only a few seconds. Once again she felt his erection pressing against her. But he just kept fondling her cunt. Sliding up and down her wetness; spreading the moisture about, lifting her legs to provide a better view of her sex, then giving her exposed ass a hard smack.

She moaned her approval. He slapped her again. And she tried to shove her ass up to meet his hand, only to have him shove a finger into her cunt, while whispering, "You're a bad girl, aren't you?"

"YES!" she croaked in reply. "YES, I'M A VERY BAD GIRL!"

He smacked her behind twice in succession, and each time she roared, "YES!"

Somewhere in her subconscious, Colleen told herself that she's indeed being punished for being a very bad girl, and rightfully so.

Cal concentrated the next few seconds on tormenting her swollen clit, finally whispering so softly she barely heard the words. "You really are a bad little girl, aren't you?"

"I am," she groaned excitedly.

"I'm going to count to five, and then I want you to cum, understand?"


"One, two, three, four . . . five!"

Colleen exploded with her orgasm.

He brought her down by caressing her thighs and ass: then kissed her lightly on the mouth before rising up and looking down at her. Colleen's look of distress at his rising forced him to tell her that he was only going to make himself a drink.

Relieved that he wasn't finished, she sagged back onto the cushions. Tears of gratitude and joy rolled down her cheeks. She sniffed as he made himself a scotch and water, then she said, "That was great. It's been . . . Christ; I can't remember the last time I was spanked."

But in fact, she recalled the event vividly, but was reluctant to share it with him.

"I can't believe you made me cum from just spanking me."

"I played with your cunt, if you recall, that helped."

"Oh . . . yeah, you did, didn't you?"

"We should have done this a long time ago," he said reflectively.

"We seem to have wasted a lot of time . . . ." She let her words hang there.

"And we don't have all that much now, do we?' he said; then added a request that she spend the rest of the weekend with him.

"You know that's impossible," she said, and picked up her water bottle, took another drink and put it back down.

"Just how much time do we have?"

"She glanced at her watch, "A couple hours if I stretch it. But, maybe I can get away again tomorrow."

"Yeah, maybe," he answered knowing she wouldn't, or couldn't. "So, Colleen . . ." he paused. "You know, I like saying your name."

She smiled at him. It was the first time she'd actually smiled at him. "I like hearing you say it."

"Colleen, Colleen, Colleen," he said, and then laughed.

As moment later, Colleen joined him in the laughter. And then they were locked in a tight embrace, kissing as only lovers in heat can. On separating, Colleen sighed, and said, "Damn it! We've wasted a lot of time just emailing one another."

"I wouldn't say it's been a waste, at least we got to know each other. Anyway, we're here now and I want to find out everything about you. Can you come from other things that hurt?"

"I don't know. I mean I like having my tits roughed up, but no one's ever really hurt them."

"Anyone ever slap your pussy?"

"No, not that I recall."

"Have you ever done it yourself? I mean, have you cum from hurting yourself?"

"Not just from pain, no. I've hurt myself while masturbating, but I've always been doing something else as well.

Eventually, Colleen recovered and sat up; straddling his legs, she murmured, "I want to see it . . . can I?"

"What did you say?"

"I want to see your cock," she said.

Cal nodded his assent, and she unzipped him and reached into his shorts and extracted his rigid penis. He lifted his hips, and she tugged pants and shorts down to mid-thigh, and ran her hands all over his groin.

Hunching over, Colleen began to rub her pussy against his stiffened member, moaning delightedly.

Then with a feline grace that Cal would never forget, she got to her knees and crouched at his left side, her fingers lightly flickering over his belly and inner thighs. He half heard her sharp intake of breath, and then she bowed her head towards his cock and playfully flicked the reddened tip of the glans with her hot, expert tongue.

Cal groaned aloud as Colleen inflicted a series of tiny, nibbling kisses all along his penis, from scrotum to the urethral lips, which had begun to pucker and twitch with convulsive receptivity to the soft moist caress of her red lips. At the same time, her fingertips plied the insides of his thighs and the edges of his buttocks near the cleft, with a persistent and delicious friction that sent innumerable tremors through his entire nervous system.

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byParis Waterman© 1 comments/ 22307 views/ 0 favorites

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