False Pretenses (11 page)

The sight of her face pressed to his groin, her eager pink tongue and soft lips trailing over his engorged cock, sent lust careening through him. She pressed her mouth to his ball sac and licked at his nads.

The glint in her eyes revealed she knew full well the effect she was having. He allowed her to play, to think she had the upper hand, then when he could endure no more, he grunted, tightened his grip on her head, and shoved his dick into her mouth. “Suck my cock, Emma."

She moaned and earnestly went to work. The sparkle in her gaze, the wet heat of her mouth, rocked him on his heels.

Emma offered the complete package: submissive and obedient, but spunky and sassy too. She followed his requests to the letter, but added her own spin. Like the getup she wore. He'd asked her to not wear panties under her skirt; he wanted to think of her sitting prim and proper in the restaurant all the while her tight, hot pussy and marvelous ass were naked.

And then he discovered her little surprise when she'd disrobed. Her bra, scarcely more than a lacy band, boosted her generous tits and presented them like a tasty offering laid out on a platter. Like two irresistible cherries, her puckered areolae and distended nipples topped off the temptation.

Those tantalizing pebbles brushed against his thighs as she went down on him.

When the head nudged the back of her throat, she swallowed and took him deeper. The base of his cock contracted, signaling an imminent orgasm, and he dug the pads of his fingers into her scalp to stave it off, but it was no use. He thrust his hips, pounding into her tight, receptive mouth.

His body stiffened, and he came, ejaculating down Emma's throat. She moaned as if his pleasure brought her great satisfaction, and the intensity of his climax shot off the scale. Dan groaned, hanging on to Emma as ecstasy racked his body.

When the shudders stopped, he yanked her into his embrace. He kissed her, thrusting his tongue into her mouth. He tasted his cum and traces of her arousal, which made him hunger for more. Spanking could wait.

He dipped his head to draw on a nipple that had teased him and tugged on the other. Emma jerked and whimpered. “Sorry,” he muttered and eased the suction.

"No, don't stop. I like it. Harder, even.” She arched and pressed her breast into his mouth. He sucked the way he wanted to then, as if he could pull the strength from her to get his aching desire until control. The BJ had done little more than file the edge off his appetite.

Dan lowered them both to the floor and stretched onto his back. Curving an arm around her hip, he tugged her toward his waiting mouth. “Sit on my face,” he said, but she'd gotten the idea already and straddled him.

He splayed his hands over her luscious ass and eased her into position over his mouth. “Ah, Emma.” He groaned at the sight of her wetness, her neatly trimmed curls, the folds that hid greater delights. Her musk filled his nostrils, and his cock, growing hard again, throbbed. He rubbed his mouth over her sex, smearing his lower face with her cream, marking himself.

Emma twitched, then giggled. “Your face—your beard—it tingles. Do that again."

"This?” Dan moved his lower jaw in a slow circle over her folds, catching the hood of her clit.

"Oh, yes,” she moaned.

"How about this?” With one hand, he spread her open and flicked his tongue over the sensitive, engorged nub, then sucked it gently. Emma mewled. With his free hand, he reached up to pinch the tip of a breast.

He played with her nipple as he nibbled on her pussy lips, tugged on her with his teeth, and swirled his tongue in her moist center, but never abandoned her clit for long. Using broad strokes, then fluttering ones, he brought her to orgasm almost as quickly as she had done for him.

He grabbed her ass and squeezed hard as she shuddered and ground her pussy against his face. She pressed her lips together and gritted her teeth to muffle a wail. Dan grinned. She couldn't hold off under his assault—no way. She'd scream before the night ended. He had money on it.

Like a partially deflated blow-up toy, Emma slumped, breathing raggedly. She moved to get off him, but Dan held her fast and pressed lazy, soft kisses to her pussy.

He flicked his tongue over her clit, and she arched. “You keep doing that, and you're going to get me all worked up again."

"That's the plan. I'm not done with you yet.” His cock had grown fully rigid, but the hard lump of the paddle wedged in his back pocket reminded him of the fun and games to come.

Dan slapped Emma's buttock. He wasn't positioned to get a good swing, but she squealed, and the combined sound of the crack of his hand and her gasp sent a spike of lust shooting through him.

Game on.
“You thought you could distract me from punishing you, didn't you?” Dan employed his sternest tone. He'd actually gotten a little concerned when Emma had confessed she'd run a red light. Endangering her safety like that was exactly the sort of behavior that would have earned her a spanking for real if they had a domestic discipline relationship like the other couples in Rod and Cane. But he'd deal with that another day. He eased Emma off him and rose to his feet. She looked so adorable, her flushed skin glowing, her eyes lit by desire, her swollen nipples begging for attention. How had he gotten so lucky to find this woman?

Emma ducked her head, hiding her face behind a veil of hair. “No, sir,” she muttered, her sass instantly heating his blood. “This was your idea, if you recall. You insisted I show you—"

"You're insubordinate!” he barked. He grabbed her arm and helped her stand. “Bedroom. Now.” He gave her a gentle push, then smacked her curvy ass.

EMMA YELPED AND darted down the hall as fast as her high heels would allow. God, she enjoyed this—the sex, the game, the spanking to come—all of it. Her senses vibrated with acute awareness; she felt more alive than she'd ever had in her thirty-three years. The air smelled fresher, colors seemed brighter, every whisper of sound played like a symphony.

Dan was the conductor and a cunnilingus virtuoso; he'd made her come in no time flat. Of course, he'd primed her perfectly—like dry kindling, all it took was a lit match for her to go up in flames. If the spanking was anywhere close to as good as the way he'd eaten her pussy, she was in for a real treat.

Upon reaching Dan's bedroom, she faltered, momentarily unsure. Should she crawl into bed? Or wait beside it? No worries, she thought. Dan would tell her.

"Remove your bra,” he said upon entering the bedroom. He gestured with the paddle. “Leave your shoes and stockings on."

Emma twisted her arms behind her back and unhooked her bra, then let it drop to the floor. Her breasts had essentially been bare, but without the armor of her bra, she felt a frisson of vulnerability. He still wore his jeans, but the open fly framed his hard-on. At full salute, his shaft was as hard as stone, its mushroom head oozing fluid. Her lips tingled from sucking that monster. His cock reminded her of a policeman's baton; a man could take charge with a nightstick like that. Suddenly, playing “yes sir, no sir” seemed a little less like a game and more like the real deal.

She eyed the muscles rippling across his chest and abdomen and bunching in his sinewy arms. His body shouted strength and power, and her feminine one responded, her pussy dampening, her stomach fluttering.

He gripped the paddle as if he planned to use it right then. “Tell me, how many swats did you earn for your naughtiness?"

She knew exactly how many, except for the ones he'd refused to spell out. “I-I don't know, sir,” she fibbed. “I've forgotten."

"That would be sixty."

"It was forty!” She corrected him with a snap of her head. “Sir!"

"So you did know. You lied.” Dan smacked the paddle against his palm. “Sixty it shall be.” He paused. “Plus the others."

Emma gulped. Could she withstand it? Her quivering pussy thought she could, but she wasn't sure. She couldn't recall how many strikes she'd gotten with the hairbrush, but didn't think it had been that many. Then again, the delicious burn had faded all too fast. Maybe this time the afterglow would last longer so she'd have a keepsake for later. “Thank you, sir,” she responded.

Dan stripped off his jeans with an easy motion and kicked them aside. The sight of his cock jutting out of his Levi's was sexy, but it paled compared to the sight of him totally naked, his body appearing even more endowed, more masculine, more dangerous to her libido and self-control.

He sat on the edge of the bed, posture erect, his cock at full staff. “Get over here."

Emma couldn't take her eyes off his hard-on. Holy fuck, he looked huge. No, he
was
huge, her aching jaw attested. When she moved beside him and reached for his erection, he stopped her with a shake of his head.

"Lie across my lap."

Emma wiggled into position, using the opportunity to bump and grind against him. His harshly drawn breath filled her with triumph, and she made a great show of trying to get comfortable until he growled a warning. Emma ceased teasing then; she desired the spanking, but sixty swats seemed like a lot. She'd better not push him too far, or he might give her more than she'd bargained for.

He curled one hand over her waist and held her snugly while with the other he fondled her buttocks. The rough hair on his thighs tickled her tummy, and his pistonlike cock dug into her side. A sampling of heaven, she thought, and sighed.

As his caresses dwindled and the kneading got firmer, the swats started—quick, light taps that caused only a slight sting.

"Ooh.” She moaned as if it hurt and faked a twist to roll off his lap.

He clamped her against him and walloped her ass hard. “That's pain,” he said.

Emma mewled in agreement.

From that point, he spanked her with serious intent, alternating cheeks and slowly ratcheting up the force until she couldn't help but kick to avoid the blows she sought. His breathing sped up, and his cock leaked his arousal on her skin. She herself left a wet, sticky spot on his thigh.

Dan delivered a hard spank directly onto a sore spot, then shifted her to lie facedown on the bed, her legs braced on the floor. He shoved a pillow under her hips.

Emma's stomach fluttered with anticipation.

Though she couldn't see him, she sensed him behind her. Dominance and power seeped from his very pores, radiated in an aura to entice her submission, a gift she was eager to give. She inhaled the scent of sex, male and female. Her preheated butt throbbed; its pulsing echoed in her pussy and clit.

"What's the word?” he demanded.

She repeated her safe word. “Bulldozer, sir.” Because “no” didn't always mean “no,” he'd told her at the start of the game that she'd need a word she was unlikely to say in a sexual situation to halt the action if he delivered more than she could take. Bulldozer, the most incongruous word she could think of, popped into her head. She vowed to herself she wouldn't use it, even if the experience got more intense than what she'd expected. She intended to go the distance, to prove she could handle this. It would please Dan, but intuition whispered that her own rewards would be even more profound and urged her to commit fully.

"You'll count out the spanks,” he instructed with the clipped voice of a drill sergeant. “And you'll thank me for each one. If you lose track, we start over."

Emma gulped. That was a new wrinkle. “Yes, sir.” She'd no sooner uttered her agreement when Dan smacked her left cheek. Sharp pain zigzagged across her flesh.

She gasped, forming an O with her mouth. “One! Thank you, sir."

Another swat, just like the first, landed on the other moon. Emma gripped the bedcover tightly. “Two. Thank you, sir."

He paddled her from the tops of her thighs to the fleshy part of her buttocks, avoiding her lower spine, where she could be injured. He struck and she counted, working as a team to redden her ass.

She tried to take it stoically but found herself twitching under the paddle's bite, flailing her legs. Within no time, her backside seemed to be on fire, and each strike whipped the flames higher.

"Thirty-six! Thank you, sir,” she called in a husky voice. She twisted the bedclothes in her fists. This paddling was much more intense than the last one. Her entire sit spot burned fiercely.

Be strong. Be strong. You can do this.

Crack!

"Oh, God!” Emma cried out, and tears sprang to her eyes. She might have to spend her entire workday on her feet.

"Do you need me to stop?” Dan asked even though she hadn't shouted out the names of any heavy machinery.

Yes!
yelled her feminist alter ego, raised by a liberated mother and a supportive, sensitive father.
Hell no
, protested her creaming pussy, and most surprisingly, her aching ass. She couldn't explain it, but despite the pain, being spanked filled her with righteous satisfaction, answered a need she hadn't known she had until recently.

Emma sniffed and dashed away her tears with the back of her hand. “No, sir. Please continue.” Her voice wobbled.

"Then count it out,” he reminded her gently.

What number are we on?
Emma's heart pounded. Had she counted thirty-five or thirty-six? Her breathing hitched. Would he really start over if she got it wrong? “Thirty...six?"

Oh God, he isn't saying anything.
Emma's stomach leaped into her throat. Then she remembered. “Thank you, sir."

"That's my girl!” he praised and delivered another hard whack. She expected another blow to follow, but he paused. “Will you let me take a photo of your freshly spanked ass?"

The Rod and Cane mansion housed many pictures and photographs of spanked women. Even before she'd had a change of heart about spanking, the artwork awed her. Could she look as beautiful as those women did displaying their blushing bottoms?

"If you want,” Emma said. Her stomach fluttered with excitement.

"Oh, I want,” he rasped. Her pleasure soared to a new high at the warmth in his voice.

He resumed spanking, and she thanked him for every punishing kiss and meant it from the depth of her soul.

The extra swats ended up being five more. By the time Dan delivered the sixty-fifth spank, Emma existed in a state of agonized bliss. Her face was damp from her tears, her inner thighs from her arousal. The spanking had awakened every nerve ending; she could feel each individual molecule of air brush against her skin. Her ass hurt, but her feminine core ached and pulsed with desire.