I Remember

Most of the time, you let me lead the way. Or at least let me think I did. Like the time we went to meet some of my friends. The night ended very early, unexpectedly.

There had been some sort of argument before we got there, and they had all left, except for the one guy who I didn't really like in the first place. The whole time he was talking to me, his eyes were all over you. I was pissed off enough, and then you started flirting with him. I went from pissed to mad.

I remember how you kept asking about him on the ride back to your place. I had told you the quieter I got, the madder I was.

I responded to your questions with short, one syllable answers. I knew you could see the color rising in my face, yet you seemed almost determined to push more buttons. I grew silent.

We pulled up to your place, I put the car in 'Park', and just glared at you. I remember how cooly and evenly you met my hard stare. And then smiled. You got out, but before you slammed the door, you leaned in and said "What a pussy!"

I felt the steering wheel shake in my hands, as a cold bolt of rage took over. As you reached your door, you turned and shouted "Hey Pussy! I forgot to give you something!" and gave me the finger.

I don't remember getting out of the car, or storming through the door, which you had left open behind you. I do remember finding you in your room, backlit from the soft glow of a bedside lamp.

You stood confidently as I shook with rage, knowing I would never hurt you. Without a word, you moved slowly to me, and gently sat me on your bed.

You asked my forgiveness, I sat in silence. I realized slow, steamy music was playing from the small stereo in your room. When you began to sway with it, I couldn't look away. Your eyes locked on mine as you began a slow strip-tease.

One by one, the buttons on your shirt opened, revealing yourself to me bit by tantalizing bit. Your fingers teased along your skin, the shirt slid off and fell. Your thin bra unclapsed in front, but still covered your beautiful breasts.

Slowly, so slowly, you let the straps fall from your shoulders, hinting at more beneath. I remember how warm my leather jacket was getting.

Your arms crossed, the bra became a willing captive of gravity. Knowing what was hidden under your forearms & hands was distracting me from my anger.

With a small sigh, your hands had uncrossed, finally revealing your soft natural globes. I will always remember you bathed in the soft glow, light and shadow playing over the curves of your body as you swayed to the music.

The snap on your jeans was next, the waistband peeled down by degrees. With a soft plop, they joined the rest of your clothes. It was then I noticed the tiny shaking of your knees. Your eyes had gone soft, so soft, and deep.

All you had left on was a tiny black thong. Still in time to the music, you moved to me. You placed a soft kiss on my lips, it wasn't returned. I let you remove my jacket.

Your lips moved to my ear, you whispered "I've been bad, very, very bad. I should be punished." With that, you slip across my lap, and arched your bottom. Your eyes met mine for a moment, and then looked away. I remember how I made you wait, trembling.

Your ass was going to pay for what your mouth had done. I made the first one count. The splat of my hard hand on your soft cheeks filled the room and echoed. You gasped, and dropped your head. I placed the second directly on top of the first, I wanted it to sting. You knew then you had unleashed the beast in me.

About the seventh, you began to squirm. I was just getting warmed up, as was your bottom. I quickly got my leg locked over yours, and gave you more smacks in rapid succession.

As you tried to cover your growing pinkness with your hands, I caught your slender wrists with my free hand. I squeezed just tight enough to hold, but not hurt you. I wanted your pain to be centered in one place, your stinging butt.

I remember how you thrashed as each well placed shot found it's target. Your cries for forgiveness and alligator tears were lost as your punishment continued. I could see the wet spot soaking through your thong.

I stopped, which seemed to hurt you even worse. I remember your moans as I grazed my fingertips over your now rosy and hand-printed tush. When I scraped your tenderized flesh with my nails, I thought you would scream with delight. And then, another loud splat as my palm connected.

Without warning, I let you go and tossed you onto the bed. Before you had finished bouncing, I ripped your thong off. There was a mix of fear and need in your eyes. I was hard as I've ever been, and you knew it. I knew there was no compromise in my face.

With a snap and a zip, I was ready. Your knees pulled together, the look in my eyes caused you to reopen them, widely. I kicked off my jeans as I climbed between your thighs.

I remember how your face looked, scrunched up in anticipation of me ramming into you. With an effort, I paused, the head at your wet opening. Your eyes opened in surprise, as I slowly ran the tip along your ready slit, teasing you, wetting myself.

As your juices wet me, I eased into you in tiny bits, and then pulling back, but never out. I savored each delicious second as your tightness began to envelop me for the first time. The feel of your sex around me was incredible. We wrapped our arms and legs around and into each other, and found our rhythm.

As I felt the familiar tingle begin to build at the base of my cock, I thought back to the ride home. I tapped into that anger. My thrusts grew deeper, harder. I remember how you tensed and locked as I drove you through your first climax. I held you tighter, and increased my tempo.

I remember sensing how you surrendered yourself to me after your second orgasm. I did what you told me to between gasps "Fuck.....me......harder...."

During your next climax, I rolled so you were now on top. My hands went to your hips, yours to my chest as you braced yourself. I let you do the work, as I lay back and watched you fuck yourself to climax after climax. Your arms gave out, you collapsed onto my chest, but your hips kept moving. I could feel you were getting close again.

"Take me with you." I whispered. There was a new burst of energy from you as you pounded me into yourself. There was no holding back for me this time. My juices were boiling in me, they had to get out. On your next downstroke, they did, in an explosion of ecstasy.

As we lay together afterward, I remember wondering who had taught who a lesson?