Some people think that BDSM is about abuse and humiliation. I beg to differ. For me there's nothing as romantic as having giving over total control to someone you trust. It might be someone you've known for a long time, but then, it just might be the stranger you've been waiting for, to set you free...
Never Too Late is available as part of my short story collection, Just a Spanking.
When you recover from this excerpt (;^) - click on over to Blisse Kiss central and savor more sexy Sunday kisses!
He lounges in a chair by the window. The drapes are open. The lights
of the Inner Harbor sparkle on the other side of the glass. The room
is dim and I'm briefly grateful. Perhaps he will not notice my flaws.
"Good evening, Elizabeth." He doesn't rise. He makes me
come to him. I stand before him, eyes cast down, feeling like a
naughty schoolgirl. Sweat pools under my arms, spoiling my best silk
blouse. Moisture gathers in my pussy.
"Um―I don't even know your name," I stutter.
"Yes, you do. Think."
I recreate my memory of him, from that fateful moment when I stepped
into the lift and found it occupied. Tall,a bit overweight, but
distinguished in his tailored charcoal suit. Black hair, dark eyes,
brows that arched in appreciation as he surveyed me. I struggle to
recall his badge. Even before he had spoken, I'd been flustered and
aroused. Distracted. "Mark?" I say finally, a half guess.
"Good girl. You see, you know more about me than you think you
do. You know you can trust me, don't you?"
"What?" Before I understand what's happening, he's looming
over me, taking possession of my mouth, rolling my rigid nipples
between his finger and thumb and kindling sparks. He tastes of the
after-dinner mints they offer in the hotel coffee shop. His hands
explore my body, weighing my breasts, groping my ass. Helpless,
beyond rationality, I melt again.
"You know instinctively," he murmurs in my ear. "I'm
the master you've dreamed of." He nips the tender flesh of the
lobe hard enough to make me cry out. "I'm the one who will make
you beg for mercy and scream with pleasure."
"No," I say. "I haven't. I can't. I'm married."
My pro forma protests are weak, even to my own ears. He is
already tearing the clothing from me. The first time his fingers
graze my bare skin, electricity sizzles along the surface, down to my
cunt. I moan, pressing against his still-clothed body. He chuckles
and steps away.
"Turn around. Let me look at you. Especially at that fat ass."
My face burns with embarrassment as I follow his instructions. It
never occurs to me to object. I feel his eyes on the butt that I
can't seem to shrink no matter how many hours I spend on the
Stairmaster.
"Lovely," he says and I glow with pride. He is pleased.
That's all I seem to need. He strokes my ample backside. When he
moves away again, I nearly cry from the loss.
"I want you across my lap. I want to turn that pale flesh of
yours a nice, rosy pink."
I obey. I can't believe that I'm doing it, but I stretch myself along
his thighs. The fine wool of his slacks is distended at the groin. I
rub my damp bush against the hard mass of his erection, the emotional
pleasure almost trumping the physical. He wants me. That's all that
really matters.
"Be still, slut!" He slaps my ass cheek with terrible
force. The pain is a shock. He brings his palm down again on the
other side, even harder. I whimper and try not to move.
He rains blows down on my tender flesh. Sometimes he lands a stinging
smack at the back of my plump thighs. Sometimes he catches me across
the crevice between my cheeks. The pain builds and builds until tears
blur my vision, but still he spanks me, again and again, with the
same ferocity he showed me in the elevator.
My ass feels as though it's bleeding and raw, yet still he beats me.
His strength and stamina appear to have no limits. Floating in a red
sea of pain, I sense his jubilation. As much as he has me in thrall,
I'm also giving him what he needs. I know somehow he would stop if I
told him to do so. I can't bring myself to that point. I don't want
to disappoint him.
When he finally does stop, I hardly notice. I've grown accustomed to
the sharp sting and the deeper ache from earlier strokes. It's all
I've ever known, all I want to know.
He brings his mouth to my battered ass, licking and kissing his way
from the base of my spine to the delicate crease where my butt joins
my thighs. After the agonizing spanking, it's too delicious for
words. He parts my cheeks and circles the knot of my anus with his
agile tongue. I shiver and arch up, begging for more.
"Well done, my slut. You've earned a reward."
1 comment:
Whew! So hot, and I love the cover. Gawgeous!
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