Poolside and Backside

Howard and Monica watched the sunset outside, by the pool. They had a simple dinner, then saw the stars emerge slowly, each seeming to grow a bit brighter than the others just as it came out. The sky was eventually covered in the glitter of the cosmos, and Monica felt small. She seemed far away, but Howard wanted her close to him, with him.

"Where are you right now honey?"

"In the sky. In my head. In...I'm in...I love being with you. The water looks inviting. I was thinking of that, too." She'd never brought herself to say she loved him. Of all the surrenders, that wasn't one she'd been able to have yet.

"You can get in the pool. It's a nice night for it. Take off your clothes here first, standing in front of me. I want to watch you undress."

She stood, and walked to him, her eyes downcast in anxiety and excitement. She liked when he gave her commands. They always seemed to be what she wanted. Being told to do what she wanted was like a permission of sorts. Maybe she could drop her guard more.

She took off her shirt first, Howard's hands sliding up the shirt as she pulled it off. His warmth sent chills through her. She got closer, straddling his leg and kissing him as he reached behind her and unhooked her bra.

"Expose yourself to me. Good girl. Hold your hands behind your back."

He pinched her nipples, sucked on them, and she looked down at him as he did, wanting his touch, loving the rush.

Monica wanted him. "I...may I touch you, too? Your shirt isn't necessary."

"Not now. I want you like this, giving yourself to me. Do you like giving yourself to me?"

"Yes. Yes."

"Stand up and take off the rest."

Standing to stop straddling him, she backed away a little, but he pulled her back, kissing her stomach and then as she slid down her skirt and panties, kissing her lower and lower until he was almost, but not quite where she wanted. Then he leaned back, her sigh seeming somewhere in between surrender and satisfaction. The light from the interior cast part of her into dark shadow, outlining her curves in light. It made her look like she had a silver lining.

"You are the silver lining." Howard said.

"What honey?"

"Go get in the pool. Swim to the end and back to me. Then you can get out."

"That's not what you said."

"I said get in the pool."

Monica was persistent. "Before that. What did you say?" She leaned closer to his face, curious and smiling and knowing she wasn't doing what he'd instructed, but what fun are boundaries if you don't push them? His open palm against her face struck her in more ways than one, and she pulled back in shock. Damn it! She watched his face as her eyes watered, clearly afraid he'd hurt her. She wasn't hurt, though, and laughed at him. He grabbed her wrists and pulled her toward him and down, forcing her back to straddling his leg. "I'm sorry. I'll get in the pool now."

"Now? Now that you've already disobeyed me?"

"Disobeyed you? Oh! Come on. I mean. This is new. I'm nervous. I'm...I'm nervous."

"We can stop if you want."

"No no! Please don't. I mean I just. I uh...I'm nervous. This is very different and I..I.."

"You're stalling."

"Maybe. Should I go get in the pool now?"

"No. You disobeyed me. What do you think should happen?"

Monica started giggling, near uncontrollable. She was nervous. She whispered "I think I should be punished."

"Louder."

"I think I should be punished."

"Ask me to punish you. Ask for a spanking."

"OH. Oh, yes. Yes, that. Do that. Spank me. Howard didn't speak, but held her wrists still, and looked impatient. I mean, please. Please spank me. He looked slightly mollified, but still was silent. Please, Howard. I need a spanking. I'm still learning. I'll learn."

"I'll teach you. Follow me. "In a moment, he let go of her, was up and walking into the house. She was dazed and wet and wanted a spanking. She was embarrassed, but it felt warm and... she wasn't keeping up. She hurried after him. He looked confident and she wondered why. Then it occurred to her that this wasn't new to him.

"Howard? Why do you know what you're doing?"

"We're both adults."

"Yes, but you know what you're doing. I'm a nervous wreck."

"That's a conversation for another time. Howard turned around and cupped her cheek in his hand, but as he moved to do that, she flinched. She was nervous. Too nervous. "You're safe."

"I know that."

"I need you to feel that. Howard walked to the couch in the living room and sat down as he took off his shirt. Come here to me." Monica walked to the couch, nude, and stood in front of him. His knees were together and he made a come hither motion. She put her legs on either side of his to move closer to him. He leaned back, grabbed her wrists, and spread his legs, moving her so she leaned forward, a hand on either side of his head, her head near his chest, but not quite resting there. When he spread his legs further, her feet came off the floor. Her toes dangling, her lover leaned back, she was in a near push up, without a feel for her center of gravity.

"Relax." He said it over and over, whispering in her ear. Slowly she leaned into him, her head resting on his chest and her breasts on his stomach. Her hands dropped onto his shoulders. From the waist up, they could have been dancing if she wasn't lying on top of him. Her feet still dangled as she sat astride him, and his knees were apart, so nothing but air touched her ass or pussy. Not his hands, like she wanted. The lack of touch there became very apparent. "I won't hurt you, dear. Not really. Not in any way you won't like."

"I didn't think that. I just...I don't know. This is so strange. It's fun, I just. I mentioned I was nervous?"

"Yes. Is there anything you like about that?"

"Well, yes. I..uh...yes."

"Good. You don't have to explain it." Sit up straight. I want to see your pussy. She pushed herself up to a sitting position, her hands on her spread thighs, her core engaged. He looked at her, saw her dripping. Watching her juices fall, he smiled, and Monica looked down, gasping in embarrassment at her own wetness. She instinctively reached for herself, toward her aching need, but Howard's hand swatted hers away.

"Stay like that."

"For how long?"

"You tell me."

"Umm..as long as you like. I'll stay here as long as you like."

"You are learning. I think you're ready for your spanking." Howard moved his legs together, helping Monica to a standing position. He sat back, and patted his lap. Monica leaned over his lap, feeling like some 1950s stereotype. With her ass in the air, and her cheek resting on the couch cushion, she felt several of his fingers push into her mouth. "Suck."

"Mmhmm."

His hand came down quickly, jostling her forward, his fingers slipping to

the back of her throat, stifling her yelp. His hand came down again in the same place as she moved her head to back away from his hand, but his hand followed. Due to her movement,she was looking at the ceiling, his fingers still in her mouth, her back arched.

"Suck."

"Mm? Mmhm. Mm-hm." Again, the other cheek, and she reached her hand back as her head fell forward. His fingers went to the back of her throat again, and she gagged as she grabbed behind herself, batting Howard's hand away.

"Move your hand. Under your stomach."

"Hmm? Mph! Mmmph. "

"Quit trying to talk. Hand. Under. Stomach." She moved her hand under her stomach, and Howard moved the fingers in her mouth toward her lips again, so she wasn't choking. Her ass cheeks were both stinging. She felt awash in emotion. "Suck." She did suck. Instead of his hand coming down to slap her ass again, his fingers slid up her slit, and she desperately wanted more. Her moan let him know. He went back to spanking her, rubbing her cheeks in between, watching her juices flow, having her spread her legs a bit as she kept sucking on his fingers.

"Are you still nervous?" Her muffled laughter was enough of an answer. He sped the blows and the intensity, until she was gasping around his fingers and panting when he gave pause.

"Stand." She wobbled to her knees, dazed and desperate. "Straddle my legs again. Lay your head on my chest."

She looked disappointed, and he smiled as she did what he'd told her in spite of it. With her head on his chest, her breathing still labored, he kneaded her ass cheeks. "Please may I have an orgasm?"

"That's sweet of you to ask. No. You can't yet, but I'll have one. Do you want me in your mouth or pussy?"

"Oh Jesus, please. Please let me orgasm."

"You heard my answer. No orgasm for you yet, but I will have one. Mouth or pussy?"

"Oh. Oh...Ok. Pussy. "

"Ask."

"Oh, God. I need. Ok. Will you please fuck my pussy?"

"Again."

"Please fuck me. Please fuck my pussy Howard."

He had her lay on her back, holding her knees for him. He was close already, and didn't think she'd have to wait long before she was allowed to cum. He pulled down his pants and as he entered her, she started contracting around him.

"Don't cum." he said.

"I can't stop it. Please. I..." He pulled out of her and slapped her pussy. She gasped and glared at him, pulling her legs together. "That hurt!"

"You didn't cum, though." He let her lay there for a moment, panting. She thought she was going to lose her mind. Spread. "Don't cum." Pouting and puffing, she pulled her legs apart, held under her knees. Sliding into her again, he worked himself up to a rhythm, and felt her clenching around him. "Don't cum."

"I won't! I won't! I'm trying." He came while listening to her promise she wouldn't. Pulling out of her, still spurting, he put his cock in her mouth.

"Suck. Yes. Like that. You're learning to follow directions well, aren't you?"

"Mmmm-hmmm." Monica sucked on him until he told her to stop. She looked up at him hopeful, but she didn't ask. It was obvious he knew what she wanted, and she'd already asked.

"Like I said, go for a swim. To the end of the pool and then back to me." Howard couldn't help but laugh at the look on Monica's face. She had clearly forgotten the order she'd been punished for not obeying earlier. She didn't dare disobey this time, and he swatted her ass as she walked past him. She gave him a dirty look, but didn't talk back, and he followed her to the pool, watched her get in and swim across, then back. She got out, standing in front of him, obedient. Her obedience was very temporary, and he'd have it no other way. Standing at the edge of the pool, he pulled her toward him, lifted her wrists and placed her hands on his shoulders. She laid her head on his chest, and they swayed in the dark, dancing to the music they'd created. The rush in his ears, the throb of her need, the soft sighs and the memory of him pounding into her, between her thighs. One of his hands slid down her waist, moving to the front and his fingers entered her. The other hand went to her hair, which he wrapped in his hand, and held her against his chest like that as he built her up and up and up until he felt her convulsing around him, her knees nearly buckling under her orgasm. He pulled her hair back and watched her face as she came. If she'd been capable of thinking, she wouldn't have thought she'd ever had an orgasm like that before. She never had, and as it faded, she looked at him in awe.

I said "You're the silver lining."

"What honey?"

"I'll tell you later."

"What am I supposed to do?" She was confused, and wanted to please him. He was glad for both.

"I fucked your brains out. I'll tell you later. Follow me."

"Follow? Follow you. Got it."

In the shower, he washed her hair as she leaned against his chest, still dazed. They crawled into bed and he pulled her toward him. She was asleep very quickly, mumbling about how comfortable of a bed he was.

He slipped out of bed after her breathing was even, and into the master closet. He opened what looked to anyone else just like a full length mirror, stepping over the threshold into his favorite room. On the wall to the left were a series of paddles, whips, belts, and riding crops. He picked out the one he'd come for, a riding crop about two feet long. The next time he needed to stave off her orgasm, he'd use that on her clit instead of his hand. He was sorry to have needed the crop without having it on hand. He clicked his tongue, chastising himself for the error. As Monica suspected, Howard did, in fact, know what he was doing. Quite exactly.

He looked around the room, thinking of what else he'd need to be prepared for next time. All of it. He wanted to use all of it, but made up his mind to only choose one extra thing. Across the room, he saw it, and his eyes lit up. That was for next time.

She was a lovely woman, and he wondered at how much making her turn animalistic pleased him. How much he enjoyed taking the control she gave him, and pushing her past her experiences into new territory. She'd become so coy lately, far less serious than she used to be. He liked taking her in hand, and it was apparent she liked being taken in hand. Which version of her was true to character? Perhaps all of the versions she showed. Closing his mirror door, he wondered at the human character in general. How much are we ourselves when alone, and how much do we require another to bring us out of ourselves, into new form?

It was a bit late for philosophy, so he went back to his bedroom, placed his riding crop and the one extra thing he'd chosen into his nightstand.

He got under the covers, and Monica reached for him on instinct, finding him, pulled herself toward him and laid her head on his chest. It seemed today's lesson had sunk in. He looked forward to the next one.