fire_breeze
Softly Seductive
- Joined
- Jul 17, 2007
- Posts
- 47,741
Hello Darling Sienna 
And Darling Lorraine
As promised, another installation.
He broke their kiss and pulled away, his eyes boring deep into hers.
“Were you anxious?” he asked. She didn’t answer. It was something that she had to work on, her penchant to worry if he didn’t contact her. She looked away. His hand tightened his grip on her hair and yanked back her head.
“Were you anxious?” he demanded, his voice hardening. He, like her, rarely repeated anything. She licked her lips.
“Yes,” she whispered. “For a bit I was.” There, she admitted it, and waited patiently for the repercussion that was sure to come.
“Why?” This time there was no hesitation.
“Because it’s not like you to be late,” she replied simply. “And so I wondered.” She stood there, her eyes lowered as he taught her, his fist tangled in her hair as she felt his eyes studying her face, contemplating. A brief moment and she felt a sudden sharp thwack on her ass, the pain throbbing through her skin. He decided to use the wooden spoon – a tool of bliss now used for one of punishment. As much as she enjoyed, even at times craved, the pain from being smacked, there was no pleasure in this.
“One,” she whispered. Her eyes stung with unshed tears, not so much from the physical pain, but from the pain of disappointing him. She closed her lids to hide her shame from him.
“Look at me,” he ordered. With a deep breath she obeyed. He stared deeply into her soul, the frustration evident.
“Five, six,” she counted, her voice wavering. She rapidly blinked, holding back. He alternated between the spoon spanking her ass and his hand.
“Nine, ten,” she continued. She began to choke on her tears, each number a conscious effort to be said clearly. She was blinded by her tears, but she still held his gaze.
“Eleven.” The smacks stopped, only to be replaced by the warmth of his hand as he rubbed her sore skin. He enveloped her into his arms, his strong hands kneading her back. She cried, whispering, “I’m sorry” over and over into the crook of his neck.
“Shh. It’s okay, baby,” he told her, cupping her face, wiping her tears. “It’s over.” She shuddered and nodded. It’s done, it’s dealt with, and it’s over. His disappointment was assuaged and the punishment was closed.
“You okay?” he asked. She wiped any last errant tears from her face with the back of her hands.
“I’m okay,” she reassured him. He grabbed her shoulders and looked straight into her eyes.
“No more of this doubting, you hear?” She nodded. The corner of his eyes began to crinkle. “So now what?” She grinned and lightly cupped him. He chuckled. “Insatiable, aren’t we?”
“For you? Always.” He wove his fingers through her hair and brought her close to his lips. She groaned as she closed the gap, his moist, warm mouth descending to capture her. She kissed him greedily. She pressed against him, her hips grinding against his. His hands twisted at the base of her head, chaining her to him. She drank in the sound of the rumble of his groan as it vibrated through the room. They pulled apart, breathing hard and staring at each other, their eyes dark with intense desire, their growing heat palpable.
After long moments, he released her hair and she fell to her knees. He stood tantalisingly close. She could smell his arousal, his crotch just inches away from her face. She began to pant as his hands began to casually remove his clothes. She clenched her fists, nails digging into her palms to contain her impatience. After an indeterminable, even unacceptable, long time, he stood naked in front her, his hardness tempting her. Her mouth began to water...
And Darling Lorraine As promised, another installation.
He broke their kiss and pulled away, his eyes boring deep into hers.
“Were you anxious?” he asked. She didn’t answer. It was something that she had to work on, her penchant to worry if he didn’t contact her. She looked away. His hand tightened his grip on her hair and yanked back her head.
“Were you anxious?” he demanded, his voice hardening. He, like her, rarely repeated anything. She licked her lips.
“Yes,” she whispered. “For a bit I was.” There, she admitted it, and waited patiently for the repercussion that was sure to come.
“Why?” This time there was no hesitation.
“Because it’s not like you to be late,” she replied simply. “And so I wondered.” She stood there, her eyes lowered as he taught her, his fist tangled in her hair as she felt his eyes studying her face, contemplating. A brief moment and she felt a sudden sharp thwack on her ass, the pain throbbing through her skin. He decided to use the wooden spoon – a tool of bliss now used for one of punishment. As much as she enjoyed, even at times craved, the pain from being smacked, there was no pleasure in this.
“One,” she whispered. Her eyes stung with unshed tears, not so much from the physical pain, but from the pain of disappointing him. She closed her lids to hide her shame from him.
“Look at me,” he ordered. With a deep breath she obeyed. He stared deeply into her soul, the frustration evident.
“Five, six,” she counted, her voice wavering. She rapidly blinked, holding back. He alternated between the spoon spanking her ass and his hand.
“Nine, ten,” she continued. She began to choke on her tears, each number a conscious effort to be said clearly. She was blinded by her tears, but she still held his gaze.
“Eleven.” The smacks stopped, only to be replaced by the warmth of his hand as he rubbed her sore skin. He enveloped her into his arms, his strong hands kneading her back. She cried, whispering, “I’m sorry” over and over into the crook of his neck.
“Shh. It’s okay, baby,” he told her, cupping her face, wiping her tears. “It’s over.” She shuddered and nodded. It’s done, it’s dealt with, and it’s over. His disappointment was assuaged and the punishment was closed.
“You okay?” he asked. She wiped any last errant tears from her face with the back of her hands.
“I’m okay,” she reassured him. He grabbed her shoulders and looked straight into her eyes.
“No more of this doubting, you hear?” She nodded. The corner of his eyes began to crinkle. “So now what?” She grinned and lightly cupped him. He chuckled. “Insatiable, aren’t we?”
“For you? Always.” He wove his fingers through her hair and brought her close to his lips. She groaned as she closed the gap, his moist, warm mouth descending to capture her. She kissed him greedily. She pressed against him, her hips grinding against his. His hands twisted at the base of her head, chaining her to him. She drank in the sound of the rumble of his groan as it vibrated through the room. They pulled apart, breathing hard and staring at each other, their eyes dark with intense desire, their growing heat palpable.
After long moments, he released her hair and she fell to her knees. He stood tantalisingly close. She could smell his arousal, his crotch just inches away from her face. She began to pant as his hands began to casually remove his clothes. She clenched her fists, nails digging into her palms to contain her impatience. After an indeterminable, even unacceptable, long time, he stood naked in front her, his hardness tempting her. Her mouth began to water...
Last edited:
