You roll us over, so that you're under me and I'm on my knees for you. Again. Just the way you like. The way we both like.
Your teeth are raking against my mouth during a rough kiss, making me burn for you on both ends.
I focus on self-restraint, trying not to get ahead of myself. Or, more importantly, ahead of you.
I put my lips to your ear, breathe deep through your hair and let out a small pleading noise. You chuckle softly back at me and I get breathless at the feel of you under me.
I feel your fingers slide down my back and around my backside. You cup my ass for a minute and then pat it at the place where it curves under. I arch under your hand, feeling the tease you're giving me, feeling my need build.
It's interesting, this particular need. It's not the same need for release that I've been experiencing for years. Well, not orgasmic release anyway.
It's a different sort of thing. A need to be claimed, called and contained all at once. A release from self into your hands, where I will always be safe but always feel precariously balanced on the edge of something big and consuming and oh so naughty.
I moan lightly into your ear and you pat me again. Focus focus focus I say to myself and pull away just a little from you to keep myself on the track of pleasing you.
You laugh, one short laugh.
And then you speak with "the" voice. You always sound a certain way when you're about to show me who's boss. Cold, detached, commanding and fucking on fire. "You're resisting?" I shake my head 'no,' but you repeat yourself, "Are you resisting me?"
I shake my head again, but I'm clearly not convincing you.
"What's the matter? What do you need? Do you need a spanking?"
With that I look at you, startled, as our eyes connect. I can't answer you with words, but apparently my expression speaks volumes. In a move I can never fully describe, you quickly reposition us so that I'm laying across your lap with my face in the futon and my ass in the air.
I can feel your thigh under my belly and pubic mound and suddenly I am breathless, hungry, nervous, wanton and desperate for your touch.
"You have such a nice ass for spanking." And you smack me, hard. Not the usual start, slightly reluctant and building. This one hit home right out of the gate and all of the air is pushed out of me in surprise. "Are you ready? You should be ready..." I nod my head, tears welling up in my eyes, knowing somehow that there's no way I can be ready for what's about to come next.
I feel your hand leave my ass and brace myself.
Quickly, so quickly, you shower my ass, both cheeks, with a rain of smacks and spanks. They come so fast I can't catch my breath between them, all I can do is lie there and accept the fact that you have me, and you're not letting go until you're ready.
I don't know how long it goes on.
Seems like forever and like I'm never going to be anything but this right now - a fine smooth ass for you to torment as you see fit.
But then, just as suddenly as it started, it's over.
And though I wasn't sure I couldn't take one more moment of the spanking, I am suddenly so lonely for it - all in a matter of seconds.
But you don't give me long to evaluate my inner "wicked girl." With a firm voice you say, "Spread your legs, Kitty Cat. Cause only good girls get spanked like that. And only good girls get fucked." As obediently as I can, I spread for you. "Further." And I do.
"What do we have here?" It's the first time you've seen me shaven all clean and smooth for you. You touch my velvet pussy and I think I hear you smile, but I can't tell for sure. "This is nice, Kitten. Very, very nice."
And then, repeating something you said the first night you fucked me, you say, "Such a pretty pussy," as I sigh contentedly under your fingers.
You slide one inside me and I start to move against you, slowly, so slowly dancing with you.
I can feel the heat pouring off the skin of my backside and I know that in that moment, I am yours. Marked and claimed by you.