I'd been seeing Karl for about a month when I explained my modus operandi: "I don't have sex with a man unless we're exclusive." Karl took this well, especially considering I'd stopped our passionate kissing mid-smooch to let him know it wasn't going to go much further that night. Timing has never been my strong suit. But he was fine about it, even going so far as to laugh and assure me he was not interested in seeing anyone else. I held up a silencing finger. "I'm not ready to hear that kind of commitment and I'm certainly not ready to make it." So we agreed to simply "date" a while longer.
Within weeks, I'd changed my mind. I was crazy about Karl, he was everything a woman could ask for. Considerate, passionate about many subjects, fierce about others, an all around man's man. The kind I swoon for. And he was still calling nearly every day, sometimes teasing, sometimes irreverent about my "rules," but always letting me know by word and deed he was hanging in there. Yeah, it was clear he was interested in shifting our relationship into a higher gear and that night, I was going to tell him I ready too -- very ready, very wet ready.
He'd invited me over for a home cooked meal (another point in his favor) and I kissed him at the door, just in time to hear his answering machine click on and a female voice thank him for the dinner the night before. I pulled out of his arms, suddenly cool. "I'm sorry you heard that," was all he offered as he took my coat.
"Who was it?" I tried to sound casual.
"Laura Hazeldean," he said over his shoulder as he poured me a drink.
I hated her. I barely knew the woman and now I hated her. "Mm. Don't you work with her?”
"Used to. How was your day?”
"Did you fuck her?”
Karl nearly choked on his wine but I will give him credit for making a quick recovery. "According to the rules you laid out, sweetheart, that is none of your business.”
I could have kicked him. Yes, I said I didn't want to be quizzed on who I was seeing and what I was doing with him. But this was different! For the first time in over ten months, I planned on taking that next step with someone. And I did not want to be desert after some other woman's stint at entree. I poked at my dinner, tasted nothing and got pissier by the second. I was frustrated sexually, furious and jealous, and humiliated for having all those feelings. I wanted him to die a miserable death. I wanted revenge. He picked up on my sulky mood, of course, and asked if it had to do with Laura. I shrugged. Grinning, he queried, "When are you going to start trusting me?" Trust him? I wanted to dump my plate of linguini on his head! Then I was struck with an idea.
"Do you trust me?" I asked, suddenly sly.
"Yes.”
"Really? Would you be willing to prove it?" I pushed, as we moved into the living room with our wine.
"Of course." He was too confident, too amused and too too ignorant of how really nasty I was feeling.
"Would you be willing to do whatever I said for a short while?”
"Like what?”
"That's where the trust comes in," I explained, setting my wine aside with a sweet smile. "You don't know what I'll command but no matter what, you'll have to do it.”
He studied me, which was a surprise, I'd expected him to trip into this one easily. I actually got a little uncomfortable under his penetrating look but just as I was about to call it off, Karl agreed.
"You have to give me your word, you'll do anything I say," I reminded him.
"You have my word but this game lasts only till ten o'clock. I'm not into subservience.”
No, I expected he wasn't, but that was rather the point. His time limit only gave me fifteen minutes for what I had planned. I spun on my stiletto heel and picked up my purse, withdrawing a large wooden backed hairbrush. I turned to face him. He had looked comfortable in his wing-backed chair until, that is, he saw what I held in my hand, then his every muscle tightened, slightly, almost imperceptibly. And, more importantly, he wasn't amused. A thrill shot through me when a wary look came into his green eyes. I sat on his black leather sofa and patted my thigh with the hairbrush, beckoning him with my other hand. He didn't move a muscle.
"What are you up to, Samantha?”
"Isn't it obvious?”
"I'm not into it.”
"You said you'd do anything," I taunted. His full mouth thinned into an angry line. The bratty part of me sang with joy: I am going to make you so sorry you even looked at another woman! "If you don't come here now, I'm going to stop the clock." He didn't budge. "You gave me your word.”
Slowly, furiously, Karl stood and sauntered over to me with the grace that comes from being in superb muscular condition. "Take your pants down," I murmured. Actually, I was getting a little nervous about the cold way he was watching me. I could have guessed he'd hate being in this position. It was why I was doing it, wasn't it? Karl stood inches in front of me unbuttoning his jeans, allowing them to fall to his thighs without ever bending. He wasn't wearing underwear. I liked that but didn't dare tell him so, not with those murderous intentions brightening his gaze. I also noticed that although he wasn't hard, he wasn't totally soft either. I resisted the urge to stroke him, saying instead, "Over my lap. Please.”
In slow motion, Karl sank to his knees on my right and stretched over my thighs, resting his forearms on the seat of the couch to balance himself.
I handed him my watch over his shoulder. "So you can call out when the time is up." He said nothing but I didn't care, not with such a sweet male ass balanced across my knee. His golden tan line just dipped to the top of his rounded cheeks. I wanted to lean forward and kiss his smooth skin, then I remembered why I'd arranged this scenario. I rubbed the back of the hairbrush against his firm flesh and pictured him making love to Laura. It was easy to bring that brush down with a resounding crack.
He didn't make a sound, not until the fifth smack, and then all I heard was the air hiss between his gritted teeth. His now rosy cheeks danced lightly under my swinging brush. As I smacked back and forth, from right to left, he shifted his weight across my thighs and occasionally let out a soft grunt. I pressed my left hand into the small of his back, feeling the warmth of his skin, knowing how much hotter it must be lower down.
Too tempted, I set aside the hairbrush and massaged his cheeks, reveling in their burn. I then brought my palm up and began a hot little hand spanking -- that had him shooting a glance over his shoulder. By now I was flushed from exertion. My hand was beginning to hurt so I took up the brush again. After the first solid thwack, Karl spilled forward, his fingers biting into the leather of the couch. I delivered half a dozen more when I heard him say, "time." Not loudly either, instead he spoke an emotionless voice which totally belied the discomfort he was surely experiencing.
He dropped my watch and stood up. Did I say emotionless? Had I thought this little act of mine would humiliate or shame him? Mmm, wrong, big wrong. No, when that muscular frame straightened in front of me, every virile inch of his 6 foot body radiated fury. He fastened his jeans while keeping laser hot eyes pinned on me. I lost a small measure of my earlier cockiness under his look. He turned away, swept up my coat and held it out.
"What's that for?" I gasped.
"You're going home now," he stated in a tight, low voice.
"But why?" As if I really needed to ask. "You agreed to do whatever I wanted.”
"And I did. But I see no reason for us to continue this. We do not share the same tastes.”
"But this isn't about--”
"Save it, Mistress," he snarled, with a particularly nasty slant on the last word. "Now take your coat and go.”
"But Karl, I don't want to dominate you. I didn't spank you for a turn on." I decided it was best not to mention that although I hadn't expected or intended to get aroused while warming his rear, it certainly had had that surprising effect.
"Then what was this about, Sam?”
"I- well--" I really ought to learn not to be quite so impulsive in the future. It's just this damn Irish temper of mine.
"Answer me!”
"Laura. It was about Laura.”
"Go on," he commanded as if I hadn't just explained everything. I lifted my hands in a helpless gesture. What else was there to say? His eyes narrowed. "Are you telling me you pulled this because you were jealous?”
"Angry. Not jealous." As though that made it better. Karl tossed my coat aside and stepped a little closer to me. "I was mad at you and well, I didn't think punching you in the nose would be a very good idea." For a second I thought I saw the shadow of amusement cross his face.
"How very perceptive of you." He settled himself in the corner of the couch as though this was a perfectly normal conversation we were having.
"Go on." I noticed he hadn't even winced when he sat and I thought I'd swung that hairbrush pretty hard. He must be good at hiding things, I thought peevishly. "I'm waiting," he added in a mild tone that did not fool me for an instant.
"I don't know what you want me to say. I was angry. Still am, if I think about it.”
"Why?”
All right, if he wanted to know, I had nothing to lose. I refused to be embarrassed about my desires.
"I wanted, I'd planned on tonight being, well, I was ready to see only you. To be exclusive. And I wanted to make love with you and now you've ruined it.”
"How's that?”
Was he being purposely dimwitted? "Because you went out with Laura last night.”
"But according the rules -- rules you set up -- dating other people was fair until we discussed the issue again.”
"Yes, but you didn't have to sleep with her!”
"Was that against the rules?”
"No," I grouched, "but it certainly puts a damper on my mood. I thought we were getting along great.”
"We were," he interjected in a dry tone.
"Then why couldn't you wait until I was ready, instead... instead of acting like some dog on the scent, humping every--”
He cut me off, "I did wait for you," eyes glittering dangerously.
"What?”
"I did not sleep with Laura.”
"Like hell. You wouldn't have pulled that 'none of your business' crap if you hadn't done anything.”
"You said it was against the rules to quiz the other person. I was just reminding you of your own bullshit attempt to control emotional areas.”
"Oh." I was surprised. "So you didn't... uhm.”
"No.”
Then I turned skeptical. "Why not?”
Karl propped his elbow on the back of the couch and leaned his cheek into it casually. "Because it isn't polite to 'hump' one woman when you're thinking about another.”
"Oh." There was a long silence between us where I tried to bite back the question on my tongue. No, you are not going to ask! "Who were you thinking about?" Yep, I asked. He gave me a searing look.
"Someone who has kept me dancing along while she made up her mind what she wanted. Someone who has laid down her terms every step of the way without ever asking me what I wanted. And someone who thinks it's okay to act out on her temper without bothering to find out if she has all the facts.”
"That someone would be me, huh?" He didn't answer, just continued to look at me in that droll way of his that I found irresistible. "Would it help if I said I was sorry?”
"It would be a smart place to start.”
"Oh Karl--" I was on my knees and crawling across the couch toward him even though he still looked annoyed as hell. If I could just get my hands on him, I figured I could turn his mood around especially because now I was feeling absolutely buoyant. He straightened suddenly.
"Do you really figure it's going to be that easy, Sam? That you can pull a stunt like that and then kiss me and I'll forget it.”
"What if I hug you too?" The stern line of his mouth told me my humor was misplaced. "All right," I sighed as I sat back on my knees, "How do we get past this? I screwed up. Big time. And I'm crazy about you so...
what? What do we do?”
"Stand up and take your clothes off.”
I supposed I could pretend not to understand him. Or I throw myself at his chest and beg for mercy. But the unyielding look on his face told me no hedge I could come up with was going to work. Besides, if I was absolutely honest with myself (and I do try to be) this was exciting. The white blaze of fury he had exhibited earlier was now just a manageable simmer, still hot but controlled. He watched my face intently and I had the sense of being a small animal trapped in the glare of onrushing high beams. He wasn't going to just let this pass and I knew it. My pulse jumped into my belly.
"Couldn't you at least try to see the humor in this situation? We could laugh it off and --”
"Get undressed or get your coat. Your choice.”
I hopped up. "Okay, okay." He didn't move from the couch, just sat back and crossed his ankle over his knee to watch with seemingly detached interest. "You know, I strip much better to music." No answer. So I shimmied my tight short skirt down my hips and kicked it aside.
"Keep going.”
I took in a deep breath and grabbed the hem of blouse, pulling it up over my head. A button caught on my long hair and for a moment I was trapped inside the white silk cocoon, struggling to unwind the errant curl. I'm sure I made quite a picture with my bare legs spread wide, trying to keep my balance on high heels while wiggling to free myself, all the soft parts of my body jiggling lewdly. Finally the curl came loose and I pulled the blouse over my head, throwing it aside too.
Now I've always been pleased with my body. I have good tight creamy baby skin that keeps my curves firm. But standing there with an annoyed man perusing me at his leisure was making me a tad insecure. Jittery even, so I crossed my arms in front of my breasts. Bad move.
"Drop your arms.”
Fine, whatever. I stared at the ceiling and considered whistling to pass the achingly long moments that followed. I wasn't going to move until he told me what he wanted. After all there was still the chance I'd like whatever was about to follow. I snuck a peek at him when the silence became unbearable. Okay, I probably wasn't going to like what was coming. He was still glaring at me, legs now uncrossed, with one arm thrown across the back of the couch. He raised his eyebrows as if asking a question.
"The bra.”
"Uhm... look, we both know where this is going and I'd like to say now that--”
"The bra." It was a command. My throat was dry but I swallowed several times anyway and then unsnapped the damn lacy black thing. I threw it in his lap and then was instantly sorry. However, he didn't seem to get any angrier. Instead, he lifted it to his face and ran it lightly under his nose.
"I've always loved your perfume." Then, "All right," he dropped the bra to the floor and patted his knee. "Come here.”
"On it or over it?”
He smiled for the first time since this all started and it didn't reassure me in the least. "You guess," he purred. I started to shuffle off one of my heels but he shook his head. "Leave them.”
There was nothing else to do but start forward. He held out a hand to help me kneel at his right side. How very gallant of him, hmmm? I studied the blue of his jeans, the strong thighs they encased and absolutely couldn't do it. I just couldn't lay myself across that lap. I rubbed two fingers over the denim on his right leg to smooth out wrinkles in the material.
"Are you going to put yourself in position or do you need help?”
My eyes flew to his and I saw the smug amusement there. Oooh, I could have screamed. Instead, I grit my teeth and ground out, "I'll manage." I inched my knees forward and very tentatively stretched across his lap, holding the edge of the couch with my left hand. Just as I was getting settled, he grabbed me round my waist and hefted me forward so that my backside was exactly over his right thigh. I spilled toward the floor, my hands bracing it, hair puddling around them and all my weight pressing my belly into his lap. "Wait!" I cried. My knees were no longer touching the ground, my legs were only partially bent.
"Just so you know," Karl said as he patted my upturned rump, "I'm going to thoroughly enjoy this." With that came the first smack, hard and meaty right at the bottom curve of my ass! I gasped from the surprise of it! I had no idea how awful the sting was. And then he smacked me again.
"Ow!" His hand was so large it nearly spanned almost both of my bottom cheeks. And when he brought it down in exactly the same place a third and forth time I thought I would scream from the sizzling pain. Instead I clenched my teeth, determined to see this through with my dignity in tact.
Four more hard smacks alternating from right to left disabused me of that notion. "Wait!" I shrieked. "Wait! I'm sorry." I was kicking now, as best I could, the pointed little toes of my shoes making muffled thuds on the carpet. Miraculously, Karl stopped. His hand caressed my burning flanks for a moment. I struggled to look back at him over my shoulder and was just in time to see his fingers slide under the elastic band of my black panties. "Nooo!" I squealed. "No don't!" He yanked them down, right to my bent knees and I began to squirm again.
"You have an incredible ass, Sam," he said with another little pat.
"And it looks great with color." He quirked me a wicked smile as he lifted his hand as high as his shoulder and swooped it forward to land a mighty spank right where my thighs creased into my bottom cheeks.
"Ahhh! Karl, please, I am so sorry. Oh! Sorry about every- No! Ow! Please!! Owww!" My pleading, begging, squealing and shrieking continued right through every spank, smack and thwack he landed. I was kicking my feet so hard my bottom was jiggling as much from that as the spanks themselves. The burn was intense and I was tried to crawl right over his knees and off his lap, but he would have none of it. His left arm pressed firmly across my shoulder blades, keeping me solidly in place. I struggled to grab hold of the edge of the couch again with my left hand, trying to leverage myself into a better position, all the while keeping up my lusty cries with his every slap to my bottom.
Now he was raining the spanks down randomly, from cheek to cheek, hard and fast, like hot little bursts from nowhere. That was bad. But when he went back to the slower, steady smacks landed exactly at the lower curve of my ass, spilling onto my tender thighs, I hollered out at the sizzling, exploding pain, rocked my hips from side to side, tossed my curls wildly and pounded the couch with my fist. "Nooo, pleeeeeease! Please, Karl! Please stoooop!”
I fought my way to a diagonal position across his lap. It didn't slow him in the slightest. He just tucked my head and shoulders under his left arm and continued whacking away at my sore, sore bottom. The difference was, however, my clit was now pressed into his right knee and my fussing and his spanking was making for an intense friction against the denim. I couldn't help it, I began to wiggle, pressing myself right into the hardness of his knee. Within seconds I came, explosively, while still sobbing, kicking and squirming. Then I collapsed like a wet heap across his lap, my face buried in my hair and outstretched arms, my breasts pressed into the cool black leather of the couch.
He stopped the spanking then and straightened me across his lap so once again I had to balance my hands on the floor. He cupped my right ass cheek and rubbed it gently. Then trailed his fingers down and slipped them between my legs. I opened my thighs wider and lifted my ass up to let him push in deeper. I knew I was sopping wet. The slickness smeared down the insides of my legs right to my knees. From above me I heard a groan which echoed what I was feeling.
"God woman, what am I going to do with you?" It was the first thing he'd said since he'd started spanking me without panties, which by the way, had been kicked to the other side of the room. Karl flipped me over and pulled me to a sitting position on his lap. I started to protest because the burning, tender skin of my backside could not bear to make contact with anything but before I could form the words, his mouth crushed to mine. His kiss was wild, plundering, as his right hand, still warm from spanking me, seared up my belly and squeezed my breast. I ground and rubbed the heel of my palm across my clit, my fingers sliding down into my pussy and came again right there.
His cock was so hard I could feel it pressing up against my poor, hot ass. Ignoring the pain, I wiggled down on his erection as I played with myself, loving the noise he made deep in his throat. He laid me back on the couch and slid out from under my legs to kneel between them, pulling his shirt over his head fast. My mouth watered just looking at his chest with its crisp, dark curls. I struggled to sit up, starved to touch flesh, but he pressed a hand between my breasts and pushed me down, all the while devouring me with his eyes. Clearly, even breathing had become difficult for him.
As Karl tore open his jeans for the second time that evening, a faint smiled played across his mouth. "I guess our tastes aren't so different after all." My answer was to slide my hands around his hips to crush my fingers into his still warm skin and pull him forward and into me. I don't know who groaned louder, but I do know I thought I'd die from the pleasure of it.
