May It Please The Court

Nothing about his next few spanks was consistent—not their force, which cheek he hit, nor the amount of time he waited between each blow—and it prevented her mind from preparing itself for the next downstroke. As her ass began to heat up though, her pussy began throbbing as something within her began getting wound up again. By the time he got to twenty and stopped, she was a hair's breadth away from humping his mattress for relief.

*

Her skin was the ideal shade of mottled strawberries and cream by the time he finished spanking her, and he could no longer deny the deep aching in his balls as his body cried out for release. He stepped back from her for a second and started to finally strip out of his work clothes; he was planning to rub her ass down with some soothing cream, but he didn't want to risk getting any on his clothes. It didn't take him long to shuck off his boxers and pants, although his fingers took a little more effort to unbutton his shirt after going slightly numb from spanking her. Walking over to his wall of vinyl, he pressed the corner on one of the shelves, causing the door to a false compartment to pop open. The 18" by 12" by 12" compartment housed a number of supplies and he made a point of grabbing two different bottles out before he closed the faux record door.

He placed the two bottles on the end of the bed before picking one back up and pumping a few squirts of cream with a velvety mousse texture into the palm of his hand. Rubbing his hands together so that the cream amply covered both of his palms, he began massaging the cream into the bright pink skin on her ass. She'd whimpered for a couple minutes until the cooling effect of the cream had a chance to seep into her skin, and for a few long seconds, he found himself questioning if he'd gotten too carried away as he'd punished her. Soon enough though, her whimpers morphed into needy moans that were becoming increasingly hardwired to his cock.

His thumbs ran along the valley between her ass cheeks gently pulling them apart with each downstroke exposing the tight ring of her anus. He hadn't done anal sex in awhile, but he hadn't been able to stop thinking about what his cock would look like pumping in and out of her ass since she'd fingered herself in his car.

"How do you feel about anal?" he asked as his erection bobbed haphazardly against her undercheeks.

She popped up on to her forearms to get a better look at his face. "Do you have lube?" she asked seriously to which he showed her the second bottle he'd removed from his secret cubby.

Taking the bottle from his hand, he watched as she studied the label intensely for several minutes before she eventually handed it back, saying, "Go slow."

He popped open the small bottle with one hand as he kneaded to her pinkened cheek with his other before he squirted some of the silicone gel onto her anus. When he was satisfied with the amount of lube on her ass, he squeezed some more lube into the palm of his hand before generously coating his index finger in the clear gel.

"Remember to breathe," he said gently as he started probing the outer rim of her anus with his index finger. Her body reflexively clamped down against the intrusion, so he rubbed the small of her back soothingly until he felt her finally begin to relax. As the tension flowed out of her muscles, he was able to eventually slip the tip of his finger past the guardian of her sphincter. He took his time, making sure he was distributing the lube inside her—well aware of the size of his cock and not wanting their evening to end prematurely because he'd injured her—as he worked to loosen her up. Finally, after several minutes of foreplay, he felt like she was ready for more than just his finger.

He picked up the bottle of lube again and applied a generous coating to his straining erection. Even though he'd poured the lube into the palm of his hand first rather than directly on to his cock, the cooler slipperiness of the silicone still initially caught him off guard when he wrapped his hand around his pulsating flesh to apply the lubrication. Satisfied that there was going to be minimal friction, he lined up the head of his cock with the entrance to her ass.

"This isn't my finger," he said in a quiet rumble as he started to press his cock inside her.

Even though the lube was helping reduce the friction between their bodies, he could tell from the way her body was trying to reject the intrusion of his cock that his size was an ambitious ask of her. He continued to rub her back and found himself babbling wordless sounds of comfort to help her relax, which seemed to help as he was able to push his cock a little deeper inside her. His eyes drifted down to his cock only to see that he'd barely managed to work a little over an inch of himself inside her. Her ass was so tight around him, but he needed to feel more of her, needed to see his cock splitting her open as her ass strained to accommodate his girth.

"Your ass looks so good trying to take my cock," he said encouragingly as he rocked his hips a little more insistently against her. She murmured into his sheets as her ass stretched wider to take him, and his cock throbbed as he marveled at how something so small and tight could swallow the enormity of his erection. His mind drifted unbidden to the flirtatious land surveyor earlier that afternoon and his hips began to pick up speed.

"When you were flirting with our witness today, were you thinking of letting him fuck you like this? His cock buried balls deep in your ass?" he said with a dark hint of unfounded jealousy bleeding into his voice.

She whimpered and for a split second he worried he'd gotten too carried away and accidentally hurt her. His concern evaporated though as his ears vaguely picked up her saying, "Not exactly, but I might've given some thought to what it'd be like to have both of you fucking me."

His cock ached at her admission. On the one hand, he'd never seriously given much thought to having a threesome with another man, but as quickly as the idea crossed his mind, he dismissed it. Even though they weren't dating, if this was going to be more than a one-time thing (and from the sounds she was making and the way his body was reacting to her there wasn't a chance in hell he'd be satisfied with just one night) she needed to know an important fact:

"I don't share what's mine," he growled right as his cock finally bottomed out within her.

He gripped her hips mercilessly as he pistoned his cock in and out of her ass, and he could already envision the bruising that was sure to start showing on her skin before the end of the night. The thought that she would be physically reminded of their sex for days renewed his focus on watching his cock split apart her ass. Even though she wasn't giving him any indications that she was in pain (and he knew it wasn't because of the lube, having learned years ago not to use numbing lube for anal sex), he nonetheless found himself beginning to worry that he was taking her too hard too fast. Although she certainly didn't seem to be an anal virgin, given the resistance he'd faced as he'd first worked his cock inside her lead him to believe it certainly wasn't something she'd done any time recently. Having never been on the receiving end of anal sex himself, he couldn't say for sure how long or even how tender she'd be to begin with, but he'd heard from several lovers in the past that even vigorous vaginal sex with him had often lead to days of discomfort afterwards. Despite the fact that he wasn't changing his mind about kicking her off the trial team, he did still want her there as an observer to signal to him in case some relevant yet arcane application of land use law started to slip past him—a role that would be infinitely more complicated if she wasn't able to sit for extended periods of time.

His balls were churning fiercely after jackhammering her ass for over fifteen minutes, and it pained him to give up the stranglehold she. had on his cock, but he wasn't sure if he was going to last for another minute or another twenty minutes, and this was not the week to test the limits of her physical endurance. He eased himself out of her as carefully as he could without disrupting his momentum too much until the head of his cock finally popped out of her with a sound that reminded him almost of a muffled queef. She let out a whine at the loss of him filling her almost to her breaking point and he gave her ass cheek a reassuring squeeze as he ran his free hand over his pulsing shaft.

"As much as I'd love to see my cum dripping out of your abused ass, you need to be able to sit still in court this week, so I'm going to paint you in cum instead," he said casually before allowing himself a self-indulgent swat at her ass, delighting in the way her flesh jiggled for him.

She squirmed against his mattress, but he wasn't sure if it was from discomfort or something else. Before he had a chance to ask her anything though, he heard her say with a borderline tone of supplication, "God, why is this making me so horny? Having you use me like a dirty little whore should repulse me, but my body just wants you to keep fucking me hot and nasty."

He felt a smile spread across his face as he allowed his free hand to slip leisurely from her ass to her pussy so he could feel the extent of her arousal. As he teasingly stroked the outer lips of her cunt in time with his hand running over his cock, he said matter-of-factly, "Because, I know you. I know how tightly locked down you've had to keep your life—even going to law school—just to achieve everything you've accomplished, but doing that means you've never been able to fuck up and show people you're as human as anyone else. But I see you. And here, with me, right now, you can give up your control, you can be flawed, and most importantly, that's ok. Just because you're a needy little slut who craves being taken over and over by a thick, juicy cock, doesn't take away from anything else you've accomplished. Isn't that right?"

The hand on his cock had picked up speed with every word out of his mouth, so that by the time she said in a quiet whimper that "Yes, it was true" he could feel his orgasm about to rush through him. A moment later, hot sticky ropes of cum were shooting from his cock and landing on the pale expanse of her back from her shoulders to her ass cheeks. There was a pungency to the scent of his cum that he knew was influenced by his ill-advised diet of hamburgers over the last week, and he couldn't deny feeling a twinge of guilt when he noticed some of his malodorous jizz had managed to wind up in her hair. Even though everything in his body was telling him to lay down and sleep after having such a forceful orgasm, the last remaining scrap of chivalry he had told him she'd likely be more comfortable if she could get cleaned up before his cum dried on her skin like glue—and, selfishly, he didn't especially want his nose to keep being assaulted by the unmistakable scent of sex that was clinging to her skin.

Giving her ass a gentle pat, he said, "Come on. Let's get you cleaned up."

*

Even though her muscles had protested something fierce as she'd tried to stand up straight after being bent over his bed for so long, she couldn't deny that the thought of potentially smelling and feeling like an itchy cum dumpster for several more hours was motivation enough to get her to follow him into his en suite bathroom. For an attached master bathroom, she was taken aback by how relatively cozy it was. Instead of a double sink vanity and a large, ostentatious whirlpool bathtub like she'd half expected, there was no vanity—just an antique-looking standalone porcelain sink directly underneath a sizeable medicine cabinet with a mirror—a generic white toilet set back next to what appeared to be a deep-set linen/towel closet, all of which was separated from a tidy-looking shower stall with a frosted glass door. As she was taking in the sparseness of the room, he'd moved over to the stall and was getting the shower ready. Given the sheer minimalism of everything else in the bathroom, she was caught off guard when she happened to glance up at the shower head that was starting to spew steam into the close space: instead of the basic, fixed-position aluminum appliance she was expecting, there was an elaborate-looking device the size of a small dinner plate that looked like it required a mechanical engineering degree to use. She heard a warm chuckle float through the increasing curtain of steam, and she glanced up to see him staring at her through the open stall door as he pressed himself as close to the back of the shower as he could manage.

Her mouth went dry. It was the first time that she'd actually gotten to see more of him exposed than his forearms, and she was not remotely prepared. Even though she wanted to appear unfazed, she couldn't stop herself from openly gaping at him. His chest was well-toned, but not so built up that his veins were bulging from his pecs, and he had a light dusting of brown hair decorating his sternum. What really drew her attention though were a handful of small, shiny patches of skin—scars, she realized vaguely—littering his chest. Her eyes dropped lower and she spied his meticulously shaved crotch along with his semi-flaccid cock. In staring at his partially deflated cock, her mind struggled to comprehend just how he'd managed to fit any of it inside her, and she found herself more than a little thankful he'd opted to fuck her rather than ask for head. His cock started to twitch back to life the more she stared at him, and she was so transfixed that she didn't realize he'd been trying to get her attention until his unyielding voice intoned, "Get in the shower. You're starting to smell like a brothel."

The candidness of his words finally broke through her temporary lust haze, and she found herself walking over to him on autopilot. As she stepped into the stall, she braced herself for a sudden faceful of water only to find he'd adjusted the shower head toward the wall. She shot him a grateful smile as she closed the stall door behind her and tried to figure out where to stand. As she'd suspected from everything else about his bathroom, the shower—although not strictly built for one—was not really built to accommodate two people either. With only about a foot of space between them, she was struggling to figure out how they were both going to be able to shower at the same time. As if he were reading her thoughts, he said, "If you stand with your face to the wall, it'll give us some more space, and we can take turns cleaning each other off."

"Sounds good," she said, the echo from the stall amplifying her voice, which caused her to internally cringe as she turned away from him.

She felt his looming presence behind her and her pussy started throbbing from his proximity. Although he'd been more than considerate with their anal foreplay, she hadn't cum from their earlier fucking even though his cock had stimulated nerves inside her that had made her feel like she might've been building up to another orgasm. The next thing she knew, she felt the strong pressure of therapeutic water jets beating against her skin along with the gentle exfoliation of a wet terry cloth towel rubbing over her back. She couldn't remember the last time someone had actually taken the time to bathe her and she melted into the decadent comfort of the sensations from the water and his hand.

As he'd moved the water over her skin, she hadn't been able to contain her contented hums, which reverberated around the enclosed space. Feeling the water jets get closer to her lower back, she instinctively widened her stance a little more. For a second, she thought she felt him step closer to her, but she brushed it off. A moment later, she heard what she thought was a quiet click as if the setting on the shower head had been adjusted. The next thing she knew, a concentrated jet of water was pulsing directly against her pussy.

She wordlessly moaned from the unexpected stimulation. Reaching one of her hands down to her pussy, she spread the lips of her cunt wider to give the water jet direct access to her clit. The water quickly found its target, and she felt her earlier feelings of impending orgasm start returning. Her mind was so focused on what was happening between her legs that it took her a minute to realize her breasts were simultaneously being stimulated by his terry cloth towel. The gentle scrape of the towel against her sensitive skin along with his fingers periodically pinching and pulling on her nipples with the towel was too much for her. As the water pulsed against her clit, she let out one last, loud, wordless moan as her second orgasm of the night overtook her.

As she leaned heavily against the stall wall, she felt the rhythmic lulling of her head being massaged, and she couldn't help but purr contentedly at the thoroughness of his attentions. Within a few minutes, the steady pressure from his fingers was replaced by multiple streams of water as he finished washing the shampoo out of her hair, and a feeling of pure contentment swept over her.

"My turn," she said with an unexpected amount of huskiness in her voice. "Swap."

There really wasn't enough space for them to move around each other in the small space, but they tried anyway—her breasts getting smushed against his bicep, accidentally pinching her nipples, as he worked to get their lower legs untangled without one of them slipping and twisting a knee. When they finally got their positions reversed, he reached up to unhook the extendable shower head from where he'd replaced it and handed it to her, all while leaning against the stall wall to give her the same amount of space to work that he'd had. Looking around, she found a second washcloth that she assumed had to at least be marginally cleaner than the one he'd used to wash all of his cum off her along with what she figured must've been a bar of charcoal soap based on its color and the tiny bubbles still clinging to its surface. She rubbed the bar of soap repeatedly over the wet terry cloth until she was satisfied with the amount of lather she'd worked up.

The wet rag left a telltale trail of bubbles as she moved it in hypnotic circles over his back, steadily working her way from the broad expanse of his shoulders to the "dimples" she could just about make out on his lower back. When her hand worked its way down to his ass, she took the opportunity to shamelessly grope him—purely in the interest of being "thorough"—making note of the low growls that escaped his lips as she kneaded his flesh through the wet cloth barrier. Her hand slid over his hip bone and she instinctively stepped into his space, pressing her breasts against his back, as she began methodically washing his semi-flaccid cock along with his balls. With the exception of one hiss that had slipped out of his mouth after she'd accidentally twisted his balls while she'd been rubbing him down with the washcloth, he'd been downright stoic as she'd taken her time cleaning his crotch.

She relathered the washcloth before she started washing his chest and his arms, and she had to remind herself not to press a small kiss to his shoulder blade as she went up on tiptoe to reach the upper portion of his chest. Eventually, she finished rinsing all of the soap suds off his torso, and she once again found herself thinking about how she could easily spend hours mapping every curve and imperfection on his body.

Nudging the handle of the shower head back into his hand, she said, "I'm done with this unless there was something else you wanted cleaned," her voice just barely raising up at the end in a question. For a few seconds, she wasn't entirely sure if he'd heard her, but she eventually heard him reply in a gravelly rumble that he was "all good" before he reached up and set the shower head back in its cradle.