To My Senses

My heart hammered in my ears as I sprinted, my arm aching from the exertion and the muscle tension necessary to hold my arm in place, keep it from banging against my side in its sling.

Within fifty feet of the targets, I pulled the Remington from my holster and divided my fire between the two on the left, pounding all sixteen rounds through the paper, into the dirt berm. I angled right to stand, chest heaving from the hundred-yard run, in front of the last two.

Being right-handed and working a right-handed gun with my left hand was a challenge, but I'd figured out how to make it work. Kind of. The same twist in my grip that positioned the magazine release under my index finger aided with the ejecting of the magazine, and I turned the pistol over, clenched it with my knees as I pulled a new magazine from the holder at the small of my back. I jammed it in, racked the rear sight off my belt, and returned the gun to my holster, dropping my shirt over it.

I eyed the two remaining targets, visualizing my movements in my mind. Sun shown through the palm trees, and a gentle water-and-earth-smelling breeze cut the heat fractionally. I'd need a shower after this.

Maybe with Jessie.

I used my numb right hand to clench and yank my shirt up, and I started firing, alternating two rounds per target as I backed away at a diagonal.

The gun ran dry again, and I reloaded, reholstered, then ripped the papers off the backstops and headed back to the firing line.

I'd gotten turned on to this place by my coworker at the bank, and had been coming out here twice a week since. The ancient range had been forgotten by all but a few, the turns and lanes to get to it overgrown and hidden from view. Even idiot kids hadn't found it, as evidenced by the lack of broken TVs and beer bottles. The forest north of Miami has concealed it well.

I lay the targets down on the concrete shooting table next to the one Jessie was sitting on, and admired my work. Not bad for a guy with one functional arm.

Jessie looked at the targets over my shoulder from her elevated vantage point. "You do good work," she shouted.

I smiled. "You can take the ear protection off."

"What?"

I turned around and pulled the earmuffs off her head. "You can take these off, we're done shooting."

"Oh, ok." She smiled cutely and swung her legs back and forth off the table.

I'd brought Jessie out here after I was done with work because it was something that was important to me. If we were going to be together, she had to be comfortable around guns, know how to handle them competently and safely. I'd seen the ugly, violent side of the world, and I wasn't going to be defenseless ever again.

She'd done well for never having fired a gun before, chewing the center of the target out at ten yards, firing slowly. The double-stack forty-five were just a little too big for her hands unfortunately, and I didn't have any others. I asked if she would ever be bothered by owning her own guns, and she'd said no, not bothered in the least. The only thing that had bothered her was a superheated brass case falling into her boobs.

I looked at her for a long time, face lit gold by the sun, black hair brushed by the gentle breeze. She caught my eye, bit her lip, looked away embarrassed. "What?"

"You're beautiful."

"Thank you. You're pretty handsome yourself."

I put a hand on her stomach and gently pushed her back to recline on her elbows, then pushed her black denim skirt up. Her breath caught as I pulled the gusset of her panties aside to expose her pussy, pale lips turning engorged pink with arousal, the delicate inner petals exposed by the spreading of her legs. I kissed up one warm inner thigh, making her giggle as my lips danced over her snatch, then down the other leg then back up.

"We're out in the open here, Gary," Jessie said, a little breathless.

"I've never seen another person here in months," I replied. I was brushing soft kisses against her little thatch of pubic hair, her mound, and she shrieked when I kissed lower, tongue flickering over her clit before dipping lower yet.

I rubbed at her clit while my tongue probed at her hole, tasting her arousal, moving between fleshy lips, and her shrieks turned into laughter when I licked my way back up exchanging my tongue in her pussy for a finger, rubbing her ridged gspot while licking and sucking the apex of her slit. I felt her pussy contract around my finger, squeezing me as she came, and she rolled her hips, humping against my face.

I kept going, stopping only after she'd screamed out two more climaxes at the beautiful blue sky and green forest above us, and she started trying to push my head away.

I looked triumphantly at the quivering, exhausted girl splayed on the table before me. "You taste good," I announced, licking my lips and sucking her juices off my finger.

Jessie just stared up at me with a satisfied smile on her face. After a minute to bring her breathing back under control, she rolled off the table, her body sliding against mine as she turned her back to me. She bent, shifting her feet apart, and began grinding her denim-covered ass against my groin. When she looked over her shoulder at me, her bottom lip was between her teeth, both cute and alluring. Her head arched back as I ran my hand up her bare, warm leg, lifting that skirt into a roll around her hips, and I pulled her panties aside.

One hand reached back to play over my crotch, fumbling with the zipper, and I firmly took that hand and placed it on the table.

That earned me a gasp.

I unbuckled my belt, unzipped my pants, and pushed them down. Jessie heard the rustle of material and ground her ass back against me, hot smooth skin against my straining member almost setting me off right there. I angled down and up, brushing the head of my erection against slippery wet flesh, and that flesh yielded to my intrusion, stretching as I pushed forward.

Head turned, I could see Jessie's eyes widen when I filled her, her lips curling in an erotic snarl of enjoyment. Hands on her hips, I thrust forward, and she squeaked cutely, then laughed when my movement brought her to her toes. I reached up and turned her head more towards mine, kissed her lips, her jaw, down to her neck, then pushed her flat on the table, holding her down as I picked up speed.

I could hear birds cawwing, wind rustling the trees in the hot summer air, the background noise of nature behind the wet slaps of fucking Jessie and her yelps of pleasure. My hands left red marks of grip strength on her pale bottom, and I thought to myself how good that butt would look lifted for discipline. The thought made me thrust a little deeper involuntarily, and Jessie shrieked.

"Can I cum, daddy?" she whimpered. "Please can I cum? You're gonna make me, I can't stop it, please let me, please please please..."

"Cum for me, Jessie. Do it, let it go."

Her hips humped back at me wildly as I hammered her pussy harder, and I felt her hand sneak beneath her to start rubbing violently at her clit.

I felt her tunnel contract tightly around me, and all movement ceased for a moment as her body seized, and then she grunted loudly, grinding back against me, trying to jam my member further up her spasming twat as she clawed at the concrete tabletop. "Oh FUCK! Gary, FUCK! FUCK! Please please please please..."

I kept pounding away, and she lit off again with a scream, this time twisting and wrenching, trying to pull off my meat inside her trying to get away from the impossibly intense sensations I was forcing upon her. I held still as she twitched and trembled, got her breathing under control, came down from her high despite still being impaled.

She blew a lock of hair out of her eye and laughed weakly. "So... You, uh... Close?"

"Very."

"Where do you want to cum?"

"Where do you want me to?"

Jessie rolled her hips sensuously, driving my super sensitive rod to further heights of stimulation. "Right where you are. In my cunt. But that's probably a bad idea."

"Yeah."

"Shoot it in my mouth then. Don't want to waste it."

A few more hard pumps that made her cry out, and then I pulled away, my exit from her sodden canal making a lewd slurping noise. My gothic girl dropped to her knees with an enormous grin, pulled the head of my cock to rest on the tip of her outstretched tongue, and began jacking my slippery shaft quickly and deliberately.

My toes curled in my shoes and I had to grip the edge of the concrete table to stay upright as my body contracted and released with every ribbon of spunk I shot across Jessie's tongue. Even after jism had stopped squirting out, I was still trembling, sweating, fighting to stay upright as the effort to climax sapped my strength. "Shit..." I groaned.

Jessie showed me the lake of pearly white filling her mouth, then swallowed loudly and rose, giving my deflating prick a few quick tugs and then planting a kiss on my cheek. After a pause, she reached up under her skirt and fished her panties down, did a little hopping dance out of them, and dropped them on the table.

"Thank you, Gary," she said sweetly.

###

"How do you feel about spanking?" I asked Jessie as we drove back to the hotel. The warm afternoon rain squall had turned to a thunderstorm, and gray rain bled quickly down the truck windows as the windshield wipers squeaked and tried to keep up. We were both rather soaked, a laughing sprint between the truck and the grocery store having drenched us as we stopped off to pick up some chicken to cook in the hotel suite's small kitchen for that night's dinner.

"Spanking?" Jessie shifted in her seat, and her voice betrayed no emotion.

"Yeah, like I did with that paddle, but with a hand."

"I was spanked at a party once. This girl I was with got spanked over a guy's lap, and then his friend bent me over a table and spanked me until I cried."

"What did you think?"

"I...I thought it hurt. I thought it was humiliating. Both made me get even more wet. Why?"

"I'm thinking of spanking you tonight," I told her.

"Oh." After a few minutes of looking at the rain-blurred road and taillights ahead, she turned to me. "Is this because I told you to punish me last night?"

"Partially."

"Partially?"

"I really enjoy spanking women. It turns me on. It usually turns them on. I find it a win-win situation."

Jessie was silent a while. "Did you spank Tori?"

Dammit. My mind returned to my parents' cabin, the cold Minnesota winter, Tori bent over my lap in the warm, excited closeness. "Occasionally. She preferred rough sex to...discipline?"

"What about that other girl you were with? Sierra?"

"Sienna. Yeah. I spanked her a lot. She liked the mental aspect, the submission part of it, more than the physical part. I mean, she still got turned on, but it was more about me doing it TO her, than WHAT I was doing to her. It was kind of an important part of the weird relationship we had."

Looking at Jessie, I could see that he breathing had deepened, and he normally milk-white skin had a bit of a flush. "How do you plan on doing it?" she asked, slightly breathless.

I thought about it, felt my dick begin to swell in my pants. "Over my lap. Push your skirt or whatever you're wearing up. Pull your panties down to your knees, make you spread your legs and hold them there. And then...spank you."

"Why make me keep my underwear on?" Jessie asked.

"I like the aesthetic. It makes you spread your legs, and I want to be able to see and play with your asshole and your pu - your cunt while I'm spanking you."

"Oh."

"Does this bother you?"

"Not at all. I'm kinda looking forward to seeing - and feeling - what you have planned. Can I ask something though?"

"Hmmmm?"

Jessie turned on the seat, curled towards me, and her voice practically dripped sex. "If you're gonna spank me, I wanna be treated like a bad girl tonight. Choke me. Pull my hair. Throw me around. Fuck me in my ass. Tell me what a filthy slut I am while you're gagging me with your cock."

Jessie was so turned on I could smell her arousal in the cab of the truck. I reached out with my nearly-dead hand, set it on her leg, felt a hint of warmth in her porcelain skin. She shivered.

###

I made dinner in the hotel suites small kitchen while my vampiric companion paced around, alternating between tapping at her phone and watching raptly as I cooked, an almost childlike curiosity on her face, in her looks and movements as I seasoned and baked the chicken and prepared the salad.

We ate as night darkened the fluffy gray clouds that were still pouring rain and booming with thunder, and the opulent hotel room felt close and intimate, a sanctuary of light and coziness in the blackness. We talked about my day at work, her day at the hotel, the business she was helping run via email.

Jessie kicked me out of the kitchen, telling me to shower while she cleaned up. I scrubbed the sweat of the day and my exercise at the range off under hot water, trying to find pain, sensation in the drumming of the burning spray against my scarred arm. I could feel SOMETHING, pressure perhaps? But not heat, not the rivulets of water rolling down my skin, the drops of spray collecting in the hairs or the swirls and striations of scar tissue.

Dammit.

Jessie passed me going into the bathroom as I was exiting, and I listened to the shower run as I did my weight work, exercising my stiff, aching arm, working out the tightness that set into the skin and muscles, desperately trying to feel...

Anything.

Dammit.

Sweating, I finished my arm exercises and threw back my pills with about a gallon of water, then lay down on the bed, kicking the sheets down towards the foot. I Googled myself, an idle habit that I'd been unable to break. Multiple news articles - two new - referencing me as a racist killer that had escaped justice.

Fuck me.

I thought back to Nina, the way she'd tasted, the way she'd smelled, the decision I'd made instinctively to sacrifice my life for hers. The way we'd laughed and lived and loved together.

The way I'd loved her.

I could still smell her, still remember the shine of light off her box braids, still remember her laughter as she showered with Tori and I.

Fuck these pieces of journalist shit. I inhaled deep and calmed my breathing. I didn't want to be mad, ruin my evening with Jessie. It was Tuesday and she'd be here till Sunday. Every moment was precious.

I fell asleep pondering whether I was falling in love again.

###

I woke up to someone shaking me. I jerked back to consciousness, blackness to dimly lit.

Jessie stood by the edge of the bed, and I barely recognized her. Her eyes were made up with thick black streaks extending out from the corners, and pink darkened her pale cheeks, almost hiding her light freckling. Her short black hair was tied off the sides of her head in braids.

Her outfit was mostly black lace, and see-through, designed to excite, rather than provide coverage. Black stockings sheathed her long, pale legs, leading up to translucent, black, bikini cut panties. A low cut, flyaway babydoll clasped between her breasts barely skimmed the tops of her thighs, exposing her slight cleavage and lean stomach.

Her hand on my shoulder was warm. "Hey you."

I blinked a couple of times, coming back to wakefulness. "Sorry, I dozed off."

"That's ok. Do you want me to crawl into bed beside you?"

I looked her over, obviously. "I'm good."

"That's good. Cuz I'm ready for my spanking, daddy."

I rose, swinging my feet off the bed to sit on the edge.

Jessie quirked one cheek up in a small smirk, then sat down on my knees, legs wrapping around me. Slowly, sensuously, she rolled her hips, grinding her crotch against mine, tits scraping my bare chest through the translucent black lace. "Will it hurt when you spank me?"

I wrapped my hands around her back, skin warm through the fabric. "I don't doubt it."

Slow rolls of her groin brought blood to my member, electric excitement to my waking mind. "Does that turn you on? Hurting me?"

"Very much."

"It turns me on too," she whispered, lips brushing my ear. "Getting disciplined by my daddy. Him being strict with me. Letting me know exactly what he expects from me. How exactly I need to pleasure him. Pain, humiliation, submission...it makes me wet. Can you feel it, between my legs?"

I slithered my left hand between us to cup her feminine mound, feeling the lace covering her slit. The thin fabric was indeed wet with her arousal. "How do you want to spank me, master?"

I gestured her off my lap, then back on, bending her thin frame over my legs, torso on the bed, toes on the floor. Her back was hot as I skimmed the babydoll nightie up it, her skin soft as my fingers dug into the waistband of her panties and tugged them down to her knees. "Spread your legs," I whispered.

She did, fabric holding suspended between them, cheeks and thighs parting to expose her swollen pink lips between her legs, the dusky, puckered orifice in her crack.

I reached between her thighs and she shivered as I cupped her sex, stroked a thumb over and around her anus.

"You're so wet, Jessie. So hot."

"I'm just waiting, daddy."

I pulled my hand away, back, and her breath caught. My hand came down with a loud clap of skin on skin, and I left it on the warm cheek I'd struck. Jessie shivered, exhaled. Sucked in another breath when I pulled back again. Gasped when my hand fell.

Her head turned towards me, an erotic smile on her face. "Harder?"

She squeaked with pain and delight when I brought my hand down on her bare bottom, again and again, rising to a shout at the hardest strike.

Her core was slick and slippery as I pushed two fingers inside and she wiggled her tushy adorably on my lap as I slowly pumped them, feeling her tightness squeeze me, the heat and wetness of being inside her body. The sounds of pleasure that she made were very similar to her sounds of pain. I pulled my hand away just before her body tightened to climax, and brought it down hard upon her rump.

Once more, I spanked her small ass, each round handful-sized cheek in turn, darkly enjoying the twitching of her body, the cries of excited pain at each impact, the darkening of her pale skin to pink, then red.

Her breath hissed in surprise as one finger probed and sought entrance to her backdoor, and I saw the little pucker distend as she pushed back to take me in, the tighter orifice squeezing - practically sucking - the digit. I left it in her, gently pumping back and forth, and Jessie groaned, rolling her hips like she was riding my dick. "Are you gonna do that to me with your cock?"

"Yes." My voice was a whisper, but commanding and firm. "Though I have to ask first, have you ever used a plug? Cuz you have the perfect ass for it..."

"Fuuuuuuck..."

Her butthole let my finger go with reluctance, and Jessie cried out again as I brought my hand down on her glute.

When I was done, Jessie crawled up into my lap again, facing me, lips brushing mine, sliding down my neck, back up again. "Now what, daddy? What do we do after you've punished me for being a naughty girl?"

"My old girlfriend Cady used to blow me when I finished spanking her. We kinda made that a ritual."

"Oh, I like that" Jessie breathed.

I eased her off my lap to a kneeling position on the floor, stood over her as she tugged my boxers down. My cock sprang upright and Jessie giggled, looked up at me with a girlish smile. "Is that all for me?"

"Don't be corny."

Her hand was warm around my rod as she pulled it down, and her tongue was wetly electric as she flicked it over the head. Her lips pressed to sensitive skin as she kissed down my length, nibbled her way back up, and she took a moment to make sure her tiny braids were out of the way before engulfing me. Her lips closed around my shaft, slid down until the crown passed to the back of her throat, and then she was sucking, bobbing violently, practically devouring my dick.