There was a time when I traveled a lot, and my apartment is full of things I brought back from foreign countries. I have a lot of these artifacts out; I like looking at them, and they make good conversation pieces. The far wall of my living room has an inlaid bookshelf, and I keep some of the smaller pieces on the shelf in front of the books.
“I like that, too,” I told Megan. “I’d like to do that with you.” Megan sighed softly. My hand was still in her hair, and she leaned into it a little. With my free hand I looked for another story. “Here’s one I also like,” I said. In it, a woman lay over a man’s lap, her ass exposed. The man spanked her, and the illustrator cut between scenes of her reddened buttocks and her face, her hair draped over her cheek, her mouth open as she counted out her punishment. Megan shifted on the couch; she rubbed her long thighs together.
I smiled and kissed the corner of her mouth. “You want that, too, don’t you?” I asked, keeping my lips close to hers. I gently pushed her back on the couch. She lay slack, her arms at her sides, waiting. I put my hands on her thighs and opened them a little. No preliminaries…I touched her cunt and slid a finger inside. It was easy. She shifted slightly and clutched at my finger. Her breathing changed, and she spread her legs further apart.
As I finger-fucked her I laid out what she could expect going forward. “That egg had a lot of sentimental value to me,” I said. “You didn’t mean to break it, I know that, but you did, and you’re going to make good on your debt, starting tonight." Megan didn’t say anything, and I’m not sure she was really listening, because now I was working her with three fingers, and she’d begun to make small sounds in her throat.
I continued. “All the things you see in this book, and maybe some things you haven’t. Things you’ve fantasized about, masturbated to…we’re going to bring them to life, starting tonight. Starting now.” I slid my fingers out of her and caressed her cheek. Her wet shone on her pale skin, and her musk hung in the air. I got to my feet.
“I have to get something from the other room. When I come back, I want you over the back of the couch, legs spread, wrists crossed behind your back. I’ll take it from there.” I started for the utility closet, where I had a length of soft rope I’d brought home a couple of days ago, just before putting the egg on the shelf right near the book. Placing it just so had been tough, and I’d been afraid it would catch a draft and fall of its own weight, but it had all worked out as I hoped.
Tomorrow I’ll have to sweep up the shards, especially the red bits of ruby-like glass. Megan goes around barefoot all the time, and I don’t want her to cut herself. And I’ll have to make another trip to the Christmas ornament store and get another one. I can’t wait to see the look on Megan’s face when she notices it. Maybe I’m a bastard for misleading her, but you’d do it, too, if you saw her in that sweater.
“I like that, too,” I told Megan. “I’d like to do that with you.” Megan sighed softly. My hand was still in her hair, and she leaned into it a little. With my free hand I looked for another story. “Here’s one I also like,” I said. In it, a woman lay over a man’s lap, her ass exposed. The man spanked her, and the illustrator cut between scenes of her reddened buttocks and her face, her hair draped over her cheek, her mouth open as she counted out her punishment. Megan shifted on the couch; she rubbed her long thighs together.
I smiled and kissed the corner of her mouth. “You want that, too, don’t you?” I asked, keeping my lips close to hers. I gently pushed her back on the couch. She lay slack, her arms at her sides, waiting. I put my hands on her thighs and opened them a little. No preliminaries…I touched her cunt and slid a finger inside. It was easy. She shifted slightly and clutched at my finger. Her breathing changed, and she spread her legs further apart.
As I finger-fucked her I laid out what she could expect going forward. “That egg had a lot of sentimental value to me,” I said. “You didn’t mean to break it, I know that, but you did, and you’re going to make good on your debt, starting tonight." Megan didn’t say anything, and I’m not sure she was really listening, because now I was working her with three fingers, and she’d begun to make small sounds in her throat.
I continued. “All the things you see in this book, and maybe some things you haven’t. Things you’ve fantasized about, masturbated to…we’re going to bring them to life, starting tonight. Starting now.” I slid my fingers out of her and caressed her cheek. Her wet shone on her pale skin, and her musk hung in the air. I got to my feet.
“I have to get something from the other room. When I come back, I want you over the back of the couch, legs spread, wrists crossed behind your back. I’ll take it from there.” I started for the utility closet, where I had a length of soft rope I’d brought home a couple of days ago, just before putting the egg on the shelf right near the book. Placing it just so had been tough, and I’d been afraid it would catch a draft and fall of its own weight, but it had all worked out as I hoped.
Tomorrow I’ll have to sweep up the shards, especially the red bits of ruby-like glass. Megan goes around barefoot all the time, and I don’t want her to cut herself. And I’ll have to make another trip to the Christmas ornament store and get another one. I can’t wait to see the look on Megan’s face when she notices it. Maybe I’m a bastard for misleading her, but you’d do it, too, if you saw her in that sweater.
