He stepped toward her--now close enough that she could have pushed him away. She had to tilt her head up to look him in the eyes. She met his gaze and the look he gave made the hair on her arms raise a bit, but they remained at her sides. Her pulse quickened, and she wasn't sure if it was from curiosity, fear, or excitement. He didn't give her the opportunity to decide.
He took both hands on the neckline of her sun dress and tore it open, clattering buttons across the hardwood floor. One of the spaghetti straps fell off her shoulder and the dress hung half open, the other side still clinging to her cleavage. She stepped back in surprise and bumped into the wall, her left hand finding her console table and accidentally knocking a book to the floor.
He moved with her, but stayed the same distance away. He wasn't on top of her. It wasn't aggression--it was deliberate, calculated. He looped a finger under the other strap and gently pulled it off her right shoulder. The straps caught at her elbows and the fabric bunched at the waistline. Her hips held the dress up now. She was wearing a nude strapless bra; it barely contained her.
He leaned down and in, brushing her hair back from her ear, and whispered, "You're not to move without my permission." She was more puzzled by the sentence construction than the command. Her arms felt heavy, and she wasn't sure if she could move if she'd wanted to. Her lips parted. She was breathing faster and a bit shallow. He was dizzying. She managed, "Yes." "Sir," he said. Breathlessly, she replied, "Yes sir." With that, he leaned back and looked her up and down. He placed his right hand on her chest above her cleavage with surprising lightness. He tracked two fingers down between her breasts, and felt along the inside of the top edge of her bra, one side, and then the other. She had turned her head slightly to the side and was noticing his shoulders for the first time. She felt heat between her legs--had it been there? Her eyes continued down and saw the way the hem of his t-shirt was held taught by his bicep. The heat grew and she squeezed her muscles involuntarily for a moment, issuing a ripple of pleasure.
As abruptly as he had torn her dress, he pulled her strapless bra down, spilling her ample breasts. She fell back against the wall and shivered from the cool contact with her exposed shoulders. Her nipples went hard, and he gave a short, satisfied laugh. He cupped a hand under one breast and held it firmly - pushing it up and moving his thumb to trace a circle around her areola. He squeezed and pulled her breast up to his mouth as he leaned down to meet it, compelling her to shift her weight forward and lift her heels. She was off balance when his tongue looped around her nipple and he sucked on her. She let out a little moan and grabbed hold of him so that she wouldn't fall - one hand on the back of his neck and the other on his elbow. He wrapped his free arm around her waist and pulled her body up to his as he continued to tease and lick.
A few moments later, he kissed her nipple gently and withdrew. His hands were on her hips first, pushing her heels back to the floor, then he put her against the wall. He took hold of her wrists and held them above her head against the wall.
"What did I say?" he was almost growling. "What?" she managed--what had he said? He repeated, "What did I say to you?" Shit, she thought. "I wasn't to move without your permission." "That's right. Did you move?" Anxiety coiled up her spine, "Yes," and she remembered just in time, "Sir."
She felt like she'd floated across the floor. He'd let her wrists go and then gripped just below her underarm and lifted, pulling her from the living room into the dining room. He pulled the chair back from the end of the rectangular dining table and set it aside with the hand not controlling her. He moved directly behind her and guided her to face the table, holding her arms at the elbows now and pulling her back onto him. She felt his erection pressing into her ass through the thin fabric of her dress. She became acutely aware of the heat between her legs and realized she was wet.
"You're going to listen next time, and we're going to make sure of it now." She didn't know what he meant. Her thoughts were racing. What did he mean? "Say you understand," he commanded. She lied, "I understand."
She was annoyed by how fast his hands moved. They were on her in an instant and then somewhere else just as fast. She didn't feel that she could react until it was too late. She had this thought with a handful of her hair at the back of her neck in his hand as he brought her down to the table. She reached out and braced herself instinctively with both arms - elbows down, palms flat against the surface. He turned her head and laid her cheek against the polished wood and released her hair, brushing the rest of it off to one side. She stretched her arms out a bit. "Stay," he said. Her breasts were pressed up against the table, but he got his hand under one and gave it a squeeze. She wasn't sure how to react - she felt like he was about to exact some price from her, but he was being playful. Not wanting to tempt fate, she stayed still.
She exhaled sharply when she felt his hands sliding up her thighs. They didn't linger - he took hold of the waistband of her thong from either side and pulled it down to her ankles. She hadn't wanted any lines that day. Definitely didn't have any lines now, she mused to herself. He held her ankles and gently guided each foot through her panties. He hung them from one of the ears of the chair he'd set aside. He stood back up and quickly flipped her dress up, exposing her bare ass. He unclasped the bra he'd already pulled down and set it alongside her thong.
She could only see him out of the corner of her eye. He moved his hand over her bottom and then moved it between her legs - parting her and pressing his fingers firmly and flat against her pussy. She started to ache. He stepped back to the table where she could see him. He was sliding the tips of his middle and ring finger together, testing her wetness. He put the tip of his thumb in his mouth and licked his lips. "Taste yourself," he said. Whatever this was going to be, she felt it would be better if she was agreeable. She opened her mouth and he slid his fingers in. She was pleased with herself and sucked on his fingers as he slowly took them out, trying to tease him with her tongue. "Good."
"You may want to lift your head up from the table." She moved back up onto her elbows just enough so that her nipples brushed the table. She kept her head facing down. He stood to her left, and moved his left hand up under the bunched fabric of her dress and moved until he was holding her hips firmly against his body. She felt his cock through his jeans again. "I'm going to spank you now," he said, "so that I have your full attention for the rest of your lesson." Part of her had expected this the moment he'd positioned her body on the table and exposed her--but she'd never been spanked before. Guys had smacked her ass during sex, but that felt a far cry from what she imagined was about to happen. What was the rest of the lesson going to be?