I could feel Him stirring and considering using my throat almost as soon as we sat down together in His apartment. For a moment I was even strangely afraid He'd do it too quickly for me to disengage from my previous train of thought and settle in to having gotten there, but then I realized I had already forgotten everything else. Already I was filling instead with my pent up longing for Him once again, with images of the fantasies that had hounded me all day until finally going out to meet Him at the bar we had just come from. His voice at my ear pulled me from my thoughts. "You know I'm going to use you. The question is, how?"
My heart palpably quickened and my mind began to blur at the edges as He began dragging His nails over me to make me squeak. The outside world, the bar, all fully obliterated now. I wondered if He would use my throat immediately, but when He stood, He took my hand very tightly in His and began to lead me out of the living room. That surely meant He intended to fuck me, didn't it?
We had reached the middle of the hall when He stopped and swept me up off my feet into His arms like a very breakable princess. I had never quite been the princess type, but that thought bubbled up in me anyway as He carried me the rest of the way to the bedroom. And when He dropped me unceremoniously, almost carelessly onto the bed, I briefly allowed myself to fantasize again about Him using me just as carelessly, rough and brutal, all night until my body gave out beneath Him.
He walked away, I knew, to lock the doors we had passed through. I considered touching myself but managed not to, settling instead for simply writhing slowly on the bed, which I could scarcely help, lost in my thoughts.
When He returned, He set at once to tormenting me again with His nails and kissing me quick and brief and rough, heightening my desperation before pulling back and pulling me with Him. He slid my body to the edge of the bed and helped me to stand up for a moment with a powerful hand on each of my arms before moving them to my shoulders and pushing me inexorably DOWN.
I could feel the groan leave my body as though it were simply staying where my throat had previously been, as though I were slipping down away from it to reveal it in the air. My hands slid fevered but reverently along the fabric of His pants as I waited for Him to free His cock for my mouth.
God how I had missed it, the sight of it, the smell of it! I plunged down on it with abandon and savored every inch passing over my tongue until I had all of Him, and I couldn't stop myself from wrapping my arms around Him to grab His ass and pull Him closer. I imagined Him enjoying it and letting it slide. I imagined Him jerking to a halt and grabbing my wrists in a grip so hard the shame of my tiny presumptuous transgression would wash over my whole body from my captive wrists to my throbbing clit.
"Good girl..."
The momentarily overwhelming sound of my blood in my ears. My pussy began to flood.
"Such a good slut, it's clear how much you worship this cock."
My smile would have spread from ear to ear if my mouth hadn't been full of Him. It was so touching that He had noticed, that He had sensed my outpouring. I tried to glance up at Him, but I couldn't quite see His face fully as I served Him. After what seemed like only a mere moment, though, He reached down to ease me off of Him and backed away despite my pouting.
"Get your pants off." His commands always seemed to come from all around me, to resound in every corner of the room.
I stood and complied, hoping hotly as I pushed them to the ground that I would feel His hand on my ass. And to my infinite relief, in a moment that seemed drawn out into an eternity, I felt the heat of His body approaching again from behind me, I could feel His presence, He would give it to me! Please let Him, please, please--oh GOD and there it was! His hand cupping my right asscheek, spreading fire down my thigh, up my side, my body was already melting, please, please, please--WHACK!
YES! YES! For weeks--was it weeks?--I had needed it, and finally it was happening, He was spanking me, as hard as ever. There weren't even many swats before He let up again to allow me to continue removing my pants, but I could still feel my neglected skin rising to a quick glow under His merciless hand. Already I had begun to spill out of myself, watching sometimes through my own eyes, sometimes from above myself the things He would do to me.
I began to remove my jewelry and had just unclasped my second bracelet when He grabbed me and pulled me towards Him where He was seated at the edge of the bed. A brief stray impulse to protest so I could finish what I was doing rose in my mind and was making its way to my foolish lips when He bent me suddenly but with somehow agonizing deliberateness over His knee and began to spank me again, even harder than before.
Scream after scream tore itself out of my throat. My ass was burning, it was an angry red already, I was sure of it. Oh PLEASE let Him fuck me soon, PLEASE let me feel Him pounding into me while the handprints still burned me. God, how did I get this way? I ought to be good; He would use me how He pleased. I could almost see the flash of His eyes and the stern line of His mouth that would greet me if He could hear my thoughts. Discipline...
WHACK! WHACK! WHACK!
And that's what I was getting. Maybe He already knew. Had it been so obvious in my behavior already? Had I been bad? Wasn't I bad? Could I help it?
WHACK! WHACK!
Buried deep in my mind the rational kernel wondered whether He really spanked me harder every time I saw Him or if my ass was somehow getting MORE sensitive to the pain every time rather than less, and whether I should be concerned or simply grateful for this phenomenon.
Horrified at my own delay, I returned to myself and began to thank Him profusely. "Thank you, Sir! Thank you, oh god, thank you!"
