by Candy Quinn
“Andrea,” he says, my name rolling off his tongue so smoothly as he reaches out and cups my chin and cheek, stroking his thumb along my smooth skin. “Where do you think you’re going? We haven’t come to any arrangement here yet,” he says.
My nose crinkles, and his eyes twinkle. He’s teasing me. I know that look better than any. It’s like he caught my hand in the cookie jar and now he’s asking what I’ll do for him to not tell dad.
“What kind of arrangement?” I ask, and I’m surprised by how lusty my voice is. I feel scared, sure, but he keeps stroking my cheek, and I can feel my body start to flush.
“Well,” he begins, taking his time as he looms over me, his natural musk tinged with some light manly aroma of cologne. My eyes are the perfect level to stare at the bare triangle of his hard, masculine pecs. “I can’t very well let you off with just a warning in lieu of an expulsion Andrea, now can I? Some kind of punishment or service has to be rendered,” he explains slowly, those long, hard fingers of his knitting back into my hair.
When did it get so hot in here? I swallow hard and lick my lips before lightly crossing my arms beneath my heaving breasts.
“I’ll wash your car for you every day after class,” I promise, knowing very well how much he prizes his car. His dad gave it to him years ago, and he’s looked after his Cadillac like it was his child. I guess since he never married, he needed something to care for.
“Wash and polish my car, huh?” he says, brow raised, sounding sceptical of my proposal. “You think that’s all it’s gonna take to wipe the slate clean, lil’ girl?” he taunts me, goads me as those dark eyes of his flash wide a moment and he looks down over me. “I think we’ll have to step things up a notch, don’t you?”
I’m dying to know what pictures he has of me, but that look in his eyes...
I’m a virgin. I’ve never been interested in other guys, especially not those my own age. But Mr. Wood is so sexy, and way out of my league. So why does it look like he wants me? Why does he keep looking at my pink-lipglossed lips? Every time I lick them, he looks at them almost enviously.
There’s no way.
Is there?
“Like what?” I manage out finally, my voice soft and cautious.
He brushes his fingers back through my blonde hair, stroking it as he tilts his head and admires my face with that warm smile. A warm smile that contains a hint of something else entirely. Something more than warm. But hot.
“You’re telling me a beautiful young woman such as yourself doesn’t have any ideas, Andrea?” he asks, and I can hear a bit of that suave charm in his gravelly voice, and it’s melting my knees.
But he called me beautiful. The word is slow to seep into my mind. Usually he’d call me cute, or pretty. Never beautiful.
I tilt my head and feel his thumb brush against the shell of my earlobe. He strokes it tenderly, and it sends something straight through my core.
“Mr. Wood?” I murmur curiously, “What should I do?”
He doesn’t remove that hand from my face, but his other one comes up, grasps my hip and holds me. Keeps me from floating away. Or that’s how I feel anyhow, with him looming over me so closely, holding and caressing me.
“Whatever it takes,” he says with a certain gravel to his voice, leaning down towards me, until I realize his lips are within a hair's breadth of touching mine.
I can almost taste the cinnamon mint on his breathe, and I don’t know what to do. I’m like a startled animal caught in the headlights.
Yet at the same time, excitement thrums through me. For so long I’ve fantasized about him, wanted him to just... take me. And now he’s so close, I could just... lean forward and kiss him.
But when my mouth touches his, I’m shocked by my brazenness! I didn’t mean to actually do it!
Whether I meant to or not though, he takes the kiss, and deepens it.
His head tilts, and his tongue lashes along my lips, parts them and probes into my mouth just a little. He’s holding my face and guiding the tempo, making me swim in a sea of excitement until…
He pulls away, and looks down at me with that dashing smile of his.
“You can’t kiss your way out of this entirely, young lady,” he says with such smooth authority, his hand on my hip running around until it’s skirting the top of my bottom. “But maybe a few spanks and I can see through to letting you off with this… and we can get back to that kissing,” he says, just as his palm slides down around the curve of my ass.
Oh God. I wonder if he can feel how hot I am?
If he just moved his fingers just a little further, no doubt he could sense the heat that’s radiating from between my thighs. I want it so bad that I’m distracted from his words.
“Spanks?” I ask with some confusion. I haven’t been spanked since I was a little girl, and certainly never by someone not my parents. That was always a childish punishment thing.
So why does the thought of him spanking me turn me on?
That hand of his strokes over the round part of my rear, and it’s done so softly, so tenderly, but it feels like such a tingling tease of what he’s saying.
“C’mon now, Andrea. Bend over this desk here and we’ll sort out your punishment,” he says, and his hand leaves my face at last, but only to reach down, take hold of my hand and guide me to his desk. He’s placing my hands to the top of that hardwood, doing it all so tenderly, but I can feel the strength in his grasp as he slides his hand back to my waist and hip, and pushes me into a bent-over position.
I’m in a daze, and feel so prone bent over, my skirt hiking up over the backs of my creamy thighs. My stockings end right above my knees, and my flesh is so vulnerable and bare. But I can’t find the will to protest or stop him. I don’t know if it’s just fear of being caught, or wanting to make amends.
In fact, the only thing I do know, is that the longer his hands are on me, the harder my pussy throbs with need. Why would punishment turn me on like this?
That big, strong hand of his is stroking over the swell of my pert rear again, and I can hear him step around me, switching sides. The pathway to the door is open now, but I can’t will myself to move. Not even as he squeezes my cheek.
“Alright sweetie, that’s a good girl, it’ll all be over soon,” he husks, and not long after the first crack of his palm lands, smacking over my skirt against the flesh of my rear. A firm, crack of his palm, so easy and casual for him, but enough to make me gasp out loud.
It’s so much different than the spankings I took before. I don’t know what it is. Maybe just my feelings for him, my desire, but it’s almost like the stern punishment is a reward instead. A juicy treat of humiliation and pain, and his hand on a part of me that he should never touch.
Whatever it was, it only does me better with the second spank he lands on my rear, and I swear my gasp is tinged with a bit of a moan. But he does it again, and there’s no denying it then.
“Now now,” he says, stroking his hand over that part of my rear he’d just struck three times! “I think this skirt is making things too easy on you,” he muses, and I feel his long digits curl in around the edge of my skirt and slowly hitch it up higher. Higher. Until my pale butt is exposed.
“This is more like it, don’t you think?” he asks, leaning over my, his gravelly voice so close to my ear as I feel his hand taunting my cheeks.
Oh my God. I’ve wanted and dreamed about this for so long. His hands touching my bare, sensitive skin that now buzzes with sensation.
It makes me buck towards him like some mindless animal, wanting to feel his touch so damned bad. Even if it stings, it’s still his hand touching me. My dad would kill us if he knew. Oh, and if he could read my thoughts, I’d be killed twice!
“This is so bad,” I say, but it comes out like a delicious groan of desire.
“Perfectly suited for a bad girl,” he says right back to me without missing a beat, and his strong hand strokes along the curve of my ass, skirting the crack of my cheeks only bar
ely… but he pauses low, and I know he can feel my feminine heat there. It’s so strong, my desire too strong.
“Fitting punishment for snooping around like such a bad, bad girl,” he says with such devious delight, right before his hand smacks my rear again, but this time it’s harder. Or maybe it’s just the lack of clothing separating us, but his bare hand hit my cheek and makes me cry out in time with the sharp crack.
I gasp, but he’s right. I am a bad girl, and I deserve to be punished. This is just more than I ever could have dreamed of or anticipated. It’s more of a forbidden treat than anything, and then I feel like the dirtiest girl alive for thinking that.
But I can’t help envisioning his fingers going between my thighs, pressing into my white panties...
Instead I get another, harder, slap across my rear and I cry out louder than ever! He follows it up with another, and my butt is stinging, but then… then he’s caressing the red hot flesh so tenderly. Gingerly exploring that smooth skin.
“There there. You’re a bad, naughty girl Andrea,” he says in that deliciously dark rasp of his, “but you’re in good hands. I’m going to take care of you. But not before I mark you and lay claim to this pretty lil’ body of yours, starting with this sweet ass,” he growls out the last of his words, before smacking me again, then again and then the spanks blur together until…
Until he’s cradling me, stroking my stinging flesh again and…
He’s doing it.
I can feel him sliding his fingers between my cheeks, over the fabric of my panties. Feeling the fiery warmth and dampness over my pussy.
I almost feel drunk or like this is all a dream, the haziness of the pain dripping away and instead replaced by the purest pleasure I’ve ever know. Sure, I’ve touched myself once or twice, but I’ve never been touched by a man. Especially not a man twice my age and best friends with my dad!
I can hear his breathing in my ear, deep and husky, tinged with such lust as he rubs me through my panties. He’s ravenous for me, I can tell even before he bites my neck then kisses it, making me tilt my head to the side to make room for his hungry mouth. That thin stalk so sensitive to his ravishing mouth, but the feeling of him petting my pussy down below is so distracting.
“Mmm, you’re an even badder girl than I thought,” he growls, and then I feel his finger hook into my panties, grazing over the raw flesh of my femininity as he peels them away from the source of my wetness. “Damn, your little cunt’s so wet from this spanking, Andrea,” he says, tugging down my panties, dragging them down my thighs to my knees, then letting them slip further down.
“Does any of this even count on punishment if you were getting off on it like this?” he asks me, bringing his hands back up to cup my slick, naked mound.
I don’t have answers for him. The first time a man’s ever done anything like this to me, and I’m helpless against my lusts. I never anticipated I would let it go this far, but now I don’t want to stop. I need to feel him inside of me, even if it’s just his fingers, and I spread my legs slightly.
“I’ll do anything you want, Mr. Wood,” I moan out truthfully.
“That’s right, you will,” he growls into my ear, and his hands slip away from me and I feel him pull back. But when I peer over my shoulder, I see him undoing his belt, hear it jangle as he pulls it free, then the buttons of his pants come undone.
“You know all about safe sex, don’t you Andrea? Come on, tell me,” he says as he pulls his pants down, and hooks his thumbs into the waistband of his boxer-briefs. The tight, black cotton hugging that thick bulge which snaked left.
“Always use a condom, and abstinence is the only safe sex,” I recite from my lackluster sex ed classes. But when I’m watching him undress, I know abstinence is not an option.
“That’s right,” he says just before pulling down his briefs, and letting that thick, long shaft topple out so rigid and huge. That veiny length pulsating with such desire as the purple tip glistened with precum. And then those balls, heavy and big, dangled beneath as he nudges my feet wider, causing me to spread my legs.
“And have you been a good, clean, safe sex girl, hmm?” he asks me, taking hold of my two butt cheeks and prying them apart.
I feel anything but clean, but I understand what he’s asking.
So do I lie? Or do I tell him that I’m a virgin?
I lick my lips, not sure of what to do, and then I feel another crack on my bare ass. My skirt is up around my waist, my panties dropped to my maryjane shoes, and I feel so vulnerable and yet... it’s good. Really good. I arch my back, digging my palms into the hard wood of his desk.
“Answer the question,” he demands sternly, and I know I shouldn’t be caught in a lie. Not now.
“I’ve... abstained.”
He goes silent for a moment, and I can tell he’s shocked, not sure if he should believe me.
“You’re lying,” he says, but I can feel his finger exploring along the seam of my slit, and then… probing on in. Parting my labia, he dips his middle finger into my cunny and I can feel myself wrapped about that digit. And I moan.
“Damn, you weren’t lying… you’re tighter than a stubborn knot,” he says with such growling approval before plucking his finger out of me and sizing up the glistening digit. He pops it in his mouth and tastes my honey, giving a deep, throaty ‘Mmm’.
“Well then sweetheart, you learned all that safe sex stuff for nothin’,” he says, and I feel him hefting his thick cock to guide the tip along my moist slit.
“What?” I murmur, looking over my shoulder at him, watching as he suckles on it. I want him so bad, but I don’t want to get pregnant!
He unbuttons his shirt all the way, and as I peer back I get an eyeful of his broad, bare chest. The toned muscles, the hard pecs and ripped abs, and then… his manhood. So big and hard as it presses against my most private of places.
“That’s the price for being a bad girl tonight,” he says, and slowly he begins to pierce my virginity. That thickness of his sinking in, stretching me wider than I’ve ever been before, and him groaning with such pleasure as he does it. “Or are you sayin’ you don’t want me in you?” he growls, taking hold of my hips so tightly.
“I do!” I protest instinctually, and even though I was going to follow it up with a big ‘but!’ he pushes in and my words die on my tongue. He’s so big, and even though I’m wetter than I’ve ever been, it stings as he takes my virginity, making me into the bad girl he thought me to be.
He moans so lewdly as he pushes on into the hilt, filling me up completely as our debauched sounds of pleasure fill the air. And I can feel him inside me, pulsating, stretching me with each new throb of desire.
“Ohhh fuck yeah,” he growls, his fingers sinking into my flesh so tight it almost hurts, but it keeps me anchored and in place to have him grasping my hips and waist like that. “You’ve got the tightest, sweetest little pussy I’ve ever been in, sweetheart,” he rumbles to me.
He stays there for a few moments, letting me get used to his size, to the fact that there’s a man inside me! And then the throbbing pain dulls, and is replaced by something much nicer. He grinds against me, not moving in or out, but with each rotation of his hips his body collides with mine, his hips pressing into my tender ass.
My breasts flatten into the wood as he holds my ass up in the air so that I have to go on tip toes, even in my shoes, and then he begins to pull out.
But he doesn’t pull out all the way, and I can feel his thick crown snugly inside me still before he pushes back in, and starts to build up a slow budding tempo. His deep, husky moans filling the air.
“Mmm,” he gives a long, deep moan. “I can feel your lil’ pussy lips clingin’ to me as I slide back… like they don’t want me to go,” he says, smacking into my ass a little as his pace grows. “This tight lil’ pussy of yours needed a nice hard cock so bad, huh? Makes you willin’ to be such a naughty girl,” he husks, his breathing growing heavier.
I know the risks, I k
now that what we’re doing is so wrong, but he feels so right. Like I’m meant to be here, pinned between him and his desk, with nothing between us. It’s even better than I fantasized, and I push my ass into him, wanting him deeper.
“You feel so good,” I gasp, shuddering when he fills me completely.
“You feel like heaven, you devilish girl,” he growls back at me through his own heady lust, but everything is getting lost in the slap of flesh. The way his cock plunges in deep, fills me up, stretches me wide and makes my toes curl with bliss.
My stinging cheeks are taking a beating from his thrusts, but I can barely feel it as he pumps into me. His heavy balls swing up, smacking my clit before he reaches in under, and those long fingers of his find that sensitive bud themselves.
“Ohhh, you feel so good sweetheart… but now it’s time for you to cum on my cock,” he says with such an insistence. Like I have no choice in the matter.
But it’s not like I could hold back, even if I wanted to. His fingers... Oh God his fingers. It’s like every nerve in my body is being caressed all at once, and when he strokes along my soaking pussy, I begin to tremor. I’ve never felt anything like this, and he rubs a bit harder, more insistent.
I buck forwards, the sensation almost too much! He has me pinned to the desk, though, and there’s no real escaping him. Ohh, not that I want to!
“Ah!” I gasp out, and his rough fingertip swirls around my clit. “Ohh!”
And then there’s fireworks going off behind my eyelids, and my pussy clenches his dick so hard that he can barely pull out.
But as pleasure explodes within me, I don’t think he’s trying too hard to pull out. He pumps into me, the gush of my honey flooding around his shaft, then coating his balls as they smack wetly against my body.
His deep, growling moans fill the air with my squeals and cries, and he’s pumping me into the desk so hard.
As I lose all control and become a spasming, twitching mess, he takes over. He bends down, ceasing his thrusts long enough to take my leg and twist me around. He lifts me up, puts me down onto my back atop his desk and places my calves against his shoulders.