by Jamie Knight
Before I even realize what I’m doing, I’m making my way through the gently oscillating crowd toward her. I’m pushing past shoulder after shoulder, fixating on her hair and the small smile she has on her lips. She’s the one. That’s the girl I’m going to spend my night with. Whether it’s a few hours or all the way until morning, she’s my gal.
Chapter Three - Shay
That’s the funny thing about me and music — the moment it’s on, and the moment I give myself over to it — there’s nothing else. It’s just me, the music, and my fantasies. It’s always been that way. Ever since I was a kid, I’ve been really sensitive to music and feeling. I’ve been able to conjure images and worlds from the just the faintest strain. That’s even true right now.
Right now, as I’m listening to this particular European pop beat, dreamy and excitable all at once — I’m imagining I’m riding unicorns through a glossy, dewy open field. It’s expansive this field, the clouds are gray up above. There are still birds singing joyfully. There are beautiful wildflowers and stocks of grass that almost look like wheat. They are high and fuzzy but colored like soft golden rays of sunshine.
But it’s not just me riding my unicorn. Next to me I have an older man. He’s riding his own dark magical beast. He is tall and muscular. He wears leather. I can’t see much of his face, but I know he’s handsome and rugged. Wise and playful, just like me. Someone too young and immature doesn’t handle a magical horse like that — with power and precision, gentleness and intuition.
As we ride, we don’t say anything. We don’t need to. I get everything I need to know from him out of his smell.
Yes, his smell.
Earthy. Musky. Like horse and hay. Sun and rain, and magic. Sweetness and charm. Even without him saying a word to me, I know I’ll be in good hands. I know that I can trust him; I know that he will always look out for me and love me. I know this in my heart as he rides closer to me. The smells in my nose intensify, and as they do, I imagine his hand coming down on my shoulder.
I smile, enjoying how his hand feels on me. It’s just how I imagined it would feel — firm and protective, but also playful. I bite my lip, wondering what that hand would feel like all over my body. Down underneath my clothing and across my ass. I chuckle deliriously, beginning to imagine such a scenario.
That is, until I realize I’m not imagining the hand on my shoulder.
There really is a hand on my shoulder!
And now it really is on my waist!
In seconds flat, I pop myself out of my daydream, but I don’t move to get away from the hold. I don’t react in fear, as these hands feel so welcoming, so comforting, but I do turn around and see who’s got me by the waist. What man would just come up to a woman while she’s blissfully dancing the night away?
The moment I see him, I’m startled, but not from fear. About forty, he is tall and muscular enough to inspire fear, I suppose. But I’m not afraid, I’m startled from his rugged features. His handsome eyes, lips and elegant sharp nose. But more importantly, his out of this world clothing. He looks like a cowboy straight out of my favorite movies as a kid. Big hat, big boots, belt buckle, scuffed-up jeans, and a plaid shirt and vest perfectly fitted for him and his large, shapely muscles.
“Um, hi there,” I say. I’m surprised at how shy and meek I sound at the moment. That’s usually Melissa’s job.
“Hello, Miss,” says my tall, dark and handsome stranger.
If his clothes and presence weren’t enough to inspire a reaction in me, his voice is. It’s deliciously Texan. Drawled, but with an unmistakable ring of class and breeding.
“Pardon me.” He takes his cowboy hat off to me, revealing sandy blond hair, and dark, luminous brown eyes. “I didn’t mean to interrupt your dancin’ there, darlin”, but you just look like you were having so much fun, I thought I would come join you.”
I blush, realizing his large, strong hands are still on my hips, and that I’m not minding it one bit. “And grab me around my hips?” I say, teasing him.
If it were any of one of the other girls, I would have overreacted by now. I would have started screaming about a potential abductor or whatnot, but not with this guy. He just exudes safety and kindness. The fact that he blushes and smiles like a little country boy when I asked him about grabbing me around my hips, that proves it.
“Yes, miss,” he says, “they were irresistible, so I just couldn’t resist.” He gives me the cutest, most gooey smile I’ve ever seen.
I blush and nod, pushing the rainbow hair out of my eyes.
“Your hair neither,” he adds, securing his hold on my hips a bit more, using this moment to begin running his hands slowly up and down the length of my back, then the curve of my hips.
I laugh. “Yeah, my hair is just about as unique as your clothing, isn’t it?”
“Yep,” he agrees, and pulls me closer.
Even without having to ask me if I want to dance, he’s dancing with me anyway. He’s swaying me and himself to the music, taking what he wants of my body and my closeness to him.
“Most people aren’t attracted to my hair,” I admit, moving closer to him.
As I do, I feel his hand glide all around my arms, then my back, getting close to my butt. As it does, I feel myself shiver. I twitch with excitement. His hands are rough and warm, and I’m beginning to like the idea of how much more they could do to me.
“Most people don’t know what to do with my clothes, so we’re even.” He smiles at me. “The name’s Colton, by the way, Miss.”
“Well, Colton,” I whisper, feeling my body getting hot in my heart beginning to race. “I’m Shay. It’s very nice to dance with you.”
Colton chuckles, and that sound hits my ears like sweet, malted liquor. Something I could live a lifetime with him and never get tired of hearing.
As we are dancing, and as I’m feeling him continuing to run his hands down my body, I enjoy the fact that there is a visible age difference between us. He looks old enough to be somewhere around my father’s age, but more youthful. Not so serious.
He begins to grind against me a little bit, and as he does, I feel his hands retreat down my back again, going toward my ass. Last time they stopped short of the curve of my butt, but not this time.
This time, they go right over my ass cheeks, with one pulling back to lightly spank one of my cheeks. It’s light and quick, so not at all painful. But it’s exciting. Between the roughness of his hands, the warmth of my body, and something growing in me, I’m turned on.
“Do it again,” I whisper.
Colton leans closer to me, squeezing one ass cheek as he does. “What?”
“Spank me again,” I say, feeling myself blushing, trembling underneath his large, firm hand.
His eyes light up with excitement, and something more. “That’s what I thought you said.” With those words uttered, he gives my ass another slap. Still a gentle and quick as before, but with less insecurity.
I blush more deeply, feeling my body temperature spike. My tummy flips excitedly.
What the fuck is wrong with me?
You like getting spanked by older men, that’s what’s wrong with you, says a lusty part of myself. Ask for more.
So, I do. Even though I feel embarrassed and slightly ashamed, I ask him to give me another. And another. He does, giving me slaps with each hand, on each cheek.
He alternates slapping with squeezing on my cheeks, jiggling my ass.
During all this, we continue to dance. I continue to let him hold me and spank me as he pleases. He seems to know I’m enjoying myself, because, he goes from spanking over my clothing to working his rough, large hand under, so that he’s resting on top of my satin panties. There, he gives me some more attention. He spanks and squeezes, until I feel like I’m going to turn to jelly in his hold. Either that or beg him to give me more.
My pussy is beginning to warm and wet under all this.
But, unfortunately for me, ou
r song ends before I ask him to do more.
Colton, however, asks, “Would you like a drink? To have one with me?”
“Sure,” I say. “All that, um…dancing… Got me thirsty.”
I blush again, feeling Colton take my hand and push me with him through the crowd. As he does, I feel his other hand on my ass. Cradling and squeezing it. He guides me to a table, with a whiskey shot still sitting there.
The moment we get to the booth in question, he has me slide into it first. He slides in after me, before waving down a waiter. He slams down his other shot of whiskey while he waits for our server to come over. The moment they do he says, “Two whiskeys. Black Saddle.”
“Black Saddle, of course, Sir.”
With that, the waiter disappears, and Colton wastes no time. He gets to chatting with me.
“So, Shay… What does a beautiful young woman like yourself with rainbow hair get up to in this big old city?”
“Go to school,” I say, feeling a little embarrassed that I don’t have anything cooler to say.
“School?” For a moment, he looks a little shocked, perhaps even a bit scared at this admission.
“I’m a college student. Junior,” I say, wanting to get him out of whatever thoughts he’s in about my age. “I’m twenty-two.”
“What do you study?”
I play with my bracelets. “I’m studying music right now. I’d love to be able to make a career out of it. Either that or working with animals.”
I look up at him, expecting him to laugh or say something about my degree in music. What I plan to do with that. But he doesn’t.
He just smiles appreciatively and says, “I believe the music bit. You go to a whole new world with it, it looks like.” He clears his throat and adds, “As for animals, if you love them, why not? I got into business because I love animals, and it’s paid me very well.”
“Working on a ranch?”
“But I own the ranch. Well, several really. Not hard to figure out, right?” Colton asks me, and we both laugh out loud.
“No,” I admit, “but what kind of ranch? What kind of animals?”
“Horses, some cattle,” he says, and I’m immediately curious about the horses bit. I’ve always wanted to ride one.
“Horses! I love horses!”
Colton glances toward my bracelets. The ones with unicorns on them. “I see that,” he says. “Have you ever ridden?”
“No.”
“Would you like to?”
I’m a bouncing bubble of energy at this point “I would love to… Someday,” I say, remembering I don’t live anywhere near a ranch, and if he’s here, that means he’s far away from home too.
“Well, that someday might just come sooner than you think, Shay.” He looks me in the eye, just as our drinks arrive, and he takes a sip. As he sighs and shakes his head out from the taste, he adds, “Don’t ever give up on something, just because it’s not right in front of your face, or because people have told you it might not work out. People told me that about what I wanted when I told them I wanted to breed top-notch horses and raise cattle on organic pesticide free grass. But look at me now. I made more money than all of my naysayers combined.”
Eager to impress him, I take my shot of whiskey and down it. The moment the bitter, slightly sweet, caramel liquor touches my tongue, I regret taking it so fast. It has a burn to it as it goes down my throat. A silky thickness that I’m not prepared for, given I’ve never had this before. It’s enough to make me come up from that shot coughing and sputtering.
Colton pats my back, murmuring, “Easy girl,” and I love it. I feel like one of his horses, loved and cared for, but also sternly guided. “That’s sipping whiskey you just tossed down like tequila. I like your enthusiasm, but that’s not cheap either. I’ll have to punish you for that,” he adds, smiling wider.
It’s as though he knows I’ve gone hot and squirmy, even when trying to keep it to myself. “What would you do?” I beg.
Without answering me, he sets down his glass and leans me over his lap, right there in the booth. There, propped over him, he spanks me on the ass. He gives me one, two, then three swats. Rhythmically, slowly, but with enough force to feel them from under the layers of cloth.
With each smack, my pussy gets wetter and tighter.
I’m disappointed when he stops, but I don’t dare say as much. He did say I was being punished, not pleasured.
He lets me up from my compromising position. As he does, I feel something hard and warm growing in the crotch of his jeans. He smiles when our eyes meet.
“So, you’ve never ridden horses, but you want to.”
I nod, still flushed and slightly annoyed at things stopping where they did.
“Have you ever ridden a cowboy?”
I don’t think my face can get redder or hotter, but it does. I ducked my head a little and say, “I’m a virgin. But with the right man, I would try.”
Chapter Four - Colton
This woman keeps getting more and more interesting. “For the right man” huh? Well, I’m determined to be that man, so let’s see what you’ve got for me, Shay. These thoughts swirl around my head as I watch her. She has such a cute expression on her face at the moment: Shy and tender, glowing with eagerness and curiosity. Around this all, I see her down to earth nature again; how earnest and unpretentious she is, compared to every other woman in this club.
“For the right man, you say,” I purr, knowing that she must and will be mine. Out of everyone in this club, hell, even New York City, she’s the woman for me. “Well, Miss Shay, I’d love to know what kind of man is the right one for you.” Here, I lean close to her and dare to touch one of her red and orange strands of hair with my fingers. “You see, I think I’ve already found the right woman.” She blushes again, hangs her head a bit lower, but I can see she’s smiling. I can feel her trembling next to me. “Please, enlighten me if you want, Miss.”
Shay doesn’t answer me immediately. She lets me sit there with her in heavy, warm silence for a second before speaking. When she does, her beautiful eyes are all mine. “I’ve honestly never thought about it until you asked me,” she says. She shrugs. “But I guess I like a man who takes charge. I like a man who takes what he wants.” She blushes, grinning nervously. “Those spankings you were giving me earlier…” She licks her lips, fidgeting. “Those helped a lot too. I liked getting those.” She smiles wider, going to cover her face with her petite hands. “I don’t know why. I was never spanked as a child, so I don’t know why I like it so much, but…”
I lift her hands away from her face and guide her chin up toward me. There, I put a rough, strong finger over her mouth, silencing her. “The only but I’m worried about is the one you’re sitting on,” I say, enjoying the mental picture I’m getting of her bent over a bed, while I spank her. I’m also enjoying the feeling of my warm, hard cock in my jeans. The way it’s pushing and growing against the fabric. “Because I enjoy spanking you. A lot. Much more than I have ever enjoyed anything, young lady, so you best be content with that. Would you like to go somewhere more private with me? Continue things there?”
I wasn’t planning on renting a room here — Henry mentioned something about the possibility of doing so — but now the idea won’t leave my head. I want to continue our time together, and if she enjoys my hands so much, I’d like to get them underneath her clothes, not just on top of them.
Shay nods, shyly biting her lip.
My hand shoots up to flag down our waiter, practically mirroring the excitement in my dick. If only it weren’t concealed in briefs and jeans right now, it might find its way straight into her velvety, virgin pussy. Right around some rosy, thoroughly-spanked ass cheeks. As I’m waiting for the guy to come over, I can barely breathe, now that I’ve had that thought. Now that I know that she is a virgin, I want her even more. I want to punish and love that flesh with everything I have, before taking her virginity.
“Yes, Sir? What
can I do for you now? Another round of whiskeys?” the waiter asks.
“No, I think we’re all good on that, partner,” I say, clearing my throat of huskiness, and telling myself to calm down. “I was told I could rent a room here, is that true?”
“It is, Sir,” he answers dryly, as if I should know better.
“Well, do you have any Western-themed rooms?” I ask, giving Shay a wink. Lightly, below the table, I push down on my cock through my jeans. It is really starting to get ornery.
The waiter looks at me as though I’m some relic who escaped from said room, and he’d rather I retire there and never be seen out here again. “Yes, sir, we do.” He pauses, looking me over. “If you’d like to reserve it, you’ll have to reserve it for the full night, whether you use all the hours from now until eight a.m.” I see him briefly look over at Shay, at her bizarrely colored hair. “Policies and all that.”
“Fine. How much?”
“1000, plus a $500 deposit, Sir,” he says.
Shay looks shocked. I think I almost see her going pale, but I stop that with a quick flourish of my billfold.
“That’s fine. Business is business,” I say, and hand him my card.
The waiter squints added, tracing the numbers and the name embossed on it. “I will be right back with this, Mr. Alexander,” he says.
As we are waiting for him to return with my expensive bit of plastic, I get out of the booth, and bring Shay with me. Again, I place my hand on her hips and ass, ready to guide her. Unconsciously, she scoots her curves further into my hand, allowing me to cup her and grab her all the better.
In no time at all, the waiter is back with my card and a set of keys. The keys have a bucking bronco on them. Fitting, since I’ve shown up here like something out of a Western film.
“Your room will be down that way. Room number fourteen,” he says, vaguely pointing in some direction away from the dance floor. “Have a good rest of your night, Mr. Alexander.”