Milestones

by Hensley, Alta

  “Yours,” she said, slowing the movements of her fingers.

  “And did I give you permission to play with my pussy?”

  She sighed. “No,” she said, “But, I’m dying. Please. I’m going to explode.”

  “Much as I am enjoying your efforts, I think it’s time for you to stop that right now and get yourself into the corner to think about your naughty behavior.”

  “I’m sorry.” She did look repentant. “I just want you so badly. Please.”

  He wanted her pretty badly, too, and it was all he could do not to bend her over his desk and have his way with her right then and there, but she needed to learn a lesson. “The sooner you get your little self into the corner the sooner we can get to fucking. But you know better than to come in here and act like a wanton hussy. Is that how my little miss is supposed to behave?”

  Of course, he loved it when she got so hot and bothered that she couldn’t control herself, but he also loved prolonging the game. He considered it one of his most important duties as head of their household.

  “Hands on your head. I don’t want you to be tempted to touch that pussy unless I say you can. You are a very naughty girl.”

  ****

  Oh gawd. As if she wasn’t already burning with desire, Owen’s stern tone and total control of the situation turned her into a quivering puddle of horniness. She stood in the corner, hands on her head, and breathed deeply trying to quell the tightness coiling in her pussy and yearning for release.

  Behind her, she heard Owen close the door. The ‘click’ of the door lock sent a jolt of delicious anticipation through her body and she worried her lower lip between her teeth wondering what would happen next.

  Owen’s footsteps echoed behind her and each one tightened the knot of passion lying low in her belly. The footsteps stopped and she glanced down to see her husband’s feet immediately behind her own. His clothing rustled and his jeans fell to the floor only to be kicked out of the way. She smiled at his impatience, which mirrored her own.

  “So tell me,” Owen’s voice was a gravely whisper in her ear. “What naughty things have you written today that have distracted you so much that you felt you could take liberties with your pussy when I have told you repeatedly that it is mine?”

  The portion of her body which was the subject of this conversation pulsed with longing. “It’s a schoolgirl fantasy story.”

  “With a strict schoolmaster?”

  “Of course.”

  “And a very naughty schoolgirl?”

  “Yes,” Jill said, her throat suddenly going dry.

  “What did she do that was so naughty?” Owen’s voice rasped in her ear and the fine hair on the back of her neck stood on end.

  “She has atrocious handwriting and an unbridled libido.”

  “Oh my. Serious infractions indeed.” Owen kneaded the naked flesh of her backside with his strong hands. “What do you suppose the strict schoolmaster would do if he found the naughty schoolgirl touching her pussy without permission? In fact, she wasn’t just touching it without permission, but she was intentionally trying to arouse the schoolmaster with her bad girl behavior?”

  “I suppose someone with an unbridled libido might act that way.”

  “Is this one of those ‘write what you know’ instances?” Owen’s fingers slid over her hips and into the warmth between her thighs.

  “I’d still like to do more research,” Jill said, pressing herself into Owen’s touch.

  His fingers squeezed the nub of her clit. “Research is important.” He rubbed harder and the firmness of his cock pressed against Jill’s backside. Her hands remained on her head as she’d been ordered, but as Owen increased the friction on her sex, she lowered her hands and reached behind herself to stroke her fingers across his cock.

  Owen moaned and Jill turned to fully clasp his shaft between her hands. She loved feeling the weight of his cock against her palms. She stroked up and down the shaft.

  Owen wrapped his arms around her and then lowered the two of them to the floor together. Once Jill was situated on the carpet Owen moved down her body and knelt between her legs. He stroked the inside of her thigh and lowered his head toward the heat of her womanhood.

  Jill closed her eyes and focused on the pleasuring she was about to receive.

  “Mom! We’re home!” The front door slammed closed and two pairs of little feet pounded up the stairs.

  Somehow, Owen managed to get himself dressed and into the hallway before the kids reached the top of the stairs.

  Jill sighed and reached for her clothes.

  Chapter Three

  “And then I said ‘Oh, senator, you are such a flatterer’.” Jill watched as her sister, Melinda, laughed at her own cleverness and glanced around the family gathering in her mother’s living room for additional acknowledgment of her superiority. Jill smiled wanly and nodded.

  “Isn’t it wonderful that your sister has such an exciting life?” Jill’s mother asked as she sat down next to her. “Not that what you do isn’t important. Everyone knows that being a mother is the most important job in the world.” Jill gave her mother the same wan smile and nod she’d just used on her sister.

  Her mother continued, “I just know what a creative person you are and I wish you could use that creativity a bit more. That’s all, dear.”

  “Yes, you are so creative,” Melinda said. “I showed everyone at my office those fabulous Halloween costumes you made for the kids. They were all jealous that you had the time to put into such elaborate costumes. Of course, my kids still got a ton of candy. So I guess it doesn’t really matter how good the costume is.”

  Jill glanced across the room and Owen winked at her. Whether in solidarity or as a warning to not make waves, she did not know. Regardless, she behaved herself.

  It was for the best that no one besides Owen knew about her life as a writer of naughty spanking stories. The anonymity gave her the freedom to write without censuring herself. The likely fallout from sharing this information was simply not worth it.

  Besides, it’s not like any of them would actually buy her books. Or if they did, it would only be to criticize her.

  Still, she had achieved a fair amount of success in her genre and biting her lip when her sister bragged on and on about her career while everyone thought all she did was sit at home eating bon bons and watching celebrity talk shows got to be a bit much after a while. How many times had her mother called her to do an errand for her saying, “It’s not like you do anything while the kids are in school, anyway.”

  Well, mom, if you really must know I was in the middle of describing a blow job and your call really killed my concentration.

  No, she would never say that, much as she might think it.

  Fortunately, Owen made their excuses and got them out of there before she said, or did, something she might regret.

  “You did a good job, honey. I know your sister’s constant bragging really rubs you the wrong way. Frankly, it seems that your mother is the only one it doesn’t rub the wrong way,” Owen said as they drove home, the kids sound asleep in the back seat.

  “Thanks. I just don’t know how much more of this I can take,” Jill said, staring out the window.

  Owen clasped her hand and she turned to meet his intense gaze. “You know the rules. No one is supposed to know.” He returned his eyes to the road, but continued to hold her hand. “Whatever tiny bit of satisfaction you might get from telling people about your success is not worth the repercussions. You know that and so do I.”

  “I know,” Jill said. “Is it so wrong to want a little bit of acknowledgement for my hard work and success? My latest book is selling really well and it’s getting great reviews. Isn’t that worth something?”

  “I’m sorry, honey, really I am. But, even if you wrote a book that hit number one on the New York Times bestseller list, would your family ever acknowledge it or would they just say it was some sort of fluke?”

  Jill sighed. “You’re rig
ht. I don’t know why it matters so much to me. I’m an adult. I’m a mother. I shouldn’t need to prove anything to them anymore.”

  “And you’re a damned good wife and talented writer. Don’t forget those things.” Owen squeezed her hand again and she felt a tiny bit better.

  Still, her sister’s condescending attitude never failed to irk her.

  ****

  “Miss Andrews, are you not supposed to be counting the strokes as I lay them across your naughty behind?”

  Dirk, the stern schoolmaster, paused in his discipline to move to the front of the desk so she could see him. Lacy strained to look up at his face without moving from her position, which was flat across the teacher’s desk with her backside tipped up for discipline and her hands tied together at the small of her back.

  Before she raised her eyes to his face, all she could see was Dirk’s groin. Was it wrong that she noticed that he was not unaffected by their activities? Was it also wrong that this knowledge sent a fresh wave of turmoil coiling in her lower belly? She imagined his fingers sliding down the zipper of his pants and freeing his hard cock from his pants. Holding it before her mouth and ordering her to suck it.

  “Miss Andrews, did you not hear me speak to you?”

  “Y-yes, sir, I heard you.”

  “Yet you did not respond. Do you have an explanation for this?”

  Did she dare tell him that she was busy fantasizing about sucking his cock?

  “I have no explanation, sir. Other than that I am a very naughty girl.” The admission made her squirm.

  “Damn right you are.”

  He returned to his position near her upturned ass and said. “We shall start again, Miss Andrews. Please do not disappoint me.”

  The birch rod slapped across both of her upper thighs at once. “One,” she said.

  A biting sting nipped the crease between her thighs and the cheeks of her butt. It hurt, but not as much as she had expected.

  The second stroke met her expectations and she gasped before she remembered to say, “Two.”

  “Good girl. I think you are getting the idea now, Miss Andrews, and I am pleased. I would hate for my efforts to discipline you to be pointless.”

  “Thank you,” she said just as the rod stroked across the center of her butt. “Three,” she said through gritted teeth.

  Her breathing became ragged and the moisture in her nether region continued to build. She was embarrassed, turned on, nervous, and exhilarated all at the same time. And there was a decided burn spreading across her ass and thighs.

  This fantasy evening with Dirk had been worth every coupon cutting, penny pinching minute it had taken to save the money to pay for a few hours of pleasure. Her breasts pressed against the smooth wood of the desk. Each stroke against her ass forced her up on her toes which in turn pushed her breasts across the surface of the desk a few inches and then back again. It was a good thing her hands were restrained or she might have resorted to self-help to stroke her clit or squeeze her tits. As it was, she bit her lip and tried to concentrate on every sensation so she could recall it all later.

  She could not get the fantasy of sucking Dirk’s cock deep into her throat out of her mind. She imagined clasping her hands around the shaft and stroking up and down the hardness, sliding her fingertips around the ridge, kissing away the pre-cum that would form on the head.

  “Oh gawd.”

  Suddenly the room went silent. Dirk again stood in front of her. “Miss Andrews,” his stern voice drove her wild. “That sounded like a distinctly sexual exclamation. Is that true?”

  She stared up at him, her mouth hanging open, unaware until that instant that she had spoken aloud. How should she respond?

  “I did not realize I said anything, Sir,” she said around the dryness in her throat. She licked her lips and tried not to look away from his dark stare.

  “Are you sexually aroused, Miss Andrews?” Dirk’s voice went dangerously low and Lacy’s toes curled inside her shiny Mary Janes.

  There was probably a penalty for lying. But telling the truth seemed too embarrassing. The birch rod sliced across her buttocks. “I am waiting for an answer, Miss Andrews.”

  “I want to suck your cock.”

  Oh. Had she really just said that?

  She looked to her left and saw Dirk had laid the birch rod on the desk next to her. She glanced up and Dirk once again stood in front of her, the aforementioned cock pressing ominously against the fly of his pants. She shouldn’t stare, but she couldn’t help it. She licked her lips and imagined the feel of his thick cock sliding into her mouth.

  ****

  Oh my. Jill leaned back in her desk chair and took a long drink from her water bottle.

  She had gotten herself so horny that she couldn’t continue. This happened every time. If she got herself turned on, then it was likely her readers would feel the same, but still, did she have to start scheduling fuck breaks into her work day?

  She glanced down at her word count. Pretty good so far. Maybe she could take a quick break. A quickie break.

  She left her work area in search, yet again, of her husband.

  Not finding him in his office, the kitchen or the garage, she finally called his cell.

  “I’m having lunch with Jack. Remember? I told you this morning.”

  “Oh, that’s right. Sorry, I forgot.”

  “Do you need anything?”

  This hardly seemed the time to reply ‘a good fucking’, so she said, “No, just wondering where you were. Have fun. Give my best to Jack.”

  There she was. Alone in the house and horny as hell.

  She checked the clock. Still plenty of time before the kids got home from day camp. She scurried to the master bedroom.

  Chapter Four

  Jill lit a couple candles, put on some music, reached beneath her sundress and removed her panties, then crawled between the cool sheets of the big bed she shared with Owen.

  She closed her eyes, breathed deeply of the candle induced aroma filling the room, slid her hand between her legs and began to imagine what might happen next in her story.

  “Are you staring at my cock, Miss Andrews?”

  She could hardly deny it. She nodded her head as best she could while still lying across the teacher’s desk.

  “Nodding is not an answer, Miss Andrews. I’m sure that even a naughty, potty-mouthed girl like you knows that.”

  Lacy peeled her gaze away from his crotch and glanced upward to Dirk’s face. His eyes were dark with passion.

  She licked her dry lips and said, “Yes, I was staring at your… um… body.”

  Dirk picked up the birch rod and began to walk slowly around the desk. Lacy’s stomach flipped and flopped with each footstep that rang out in the quiet classroom.

  “Is what you are trying to say, Miss Andrews–” the birch rod smacked against her upper thighs and then he continued moving around the desk, “–that you would like to pleasure me? Submit to me? Allow me to fuck your mouth?”

  When he completed the final question, he stood before her again, though this time Lacy would swear that his cock pressed even harder against his zipper.

  She imagined sliding her fingers into the waistband of his pants, her finger tips brushing against the stiff curls surrounding his cock. She’d release the button and slowly slide the zipper down. She’d stroke her fingers across his erection before freeing it from his briefs.

  Jill moaned and continued working her fingers in the folds of her dripping wet pussy. The schoolgirl stories always got her going more than any of the others and this one was making her crazy. She pushed two fingers of her right hand deep into the channel of her pussy while the fingers of her left hand rubbed and pinched her clit. Her breathing became shallow and her hips began to buck. Despite biting her lips together, a guttural moan from deep in her belly reverberated around the room.

  Slam.

  Jill swung her head toward the noise, her hands still entwined with her nether region. Owen stood in the
doorway, hands on his hips.

  “Well, what have we here?” He strode toward the bed.

  “I got a little worked up,” Jill said. “I’m writing a pretty hot story.”

  “Yes, I saw that.” The ominous tone in his voice put a quick end to her self-gratification.

  “What are you talking about?” She sat up on the edge of the bed.

  “When you began this little adventure as a writer I was very excited for you. I still am. But we also had several rules, didn’t we?”

  “Yes.” Jill tried to figure out where the conversation was going. She had no idea other than that it probably was not going to turn out well for her.

  “Do you remember what those rules are?”

  Jill held up her fingers as she enumerated the five rules they had agreed upon.

  “One, never give out any personal information.”

  “Good.”

  “Two, always use two different browsers to keep my real life internet use separate from my writer internet use.”

  “That’s right.”

  Jill really wished she understood what this was all about, but she knew better than to ask. She continued with the list of rules.

  “Three, always read everything that I am going to post online, whether on my blog or social media, twice to make sure I have not revealed too much personal information.”

  Owen nodded.

  “Four, no matter how much I am tempted, I am never to tell anyone I know in real life about my writing.”

  “Yes.”

  “Five, always make sure I shut down the computer or close my screen before I walk away from it.”

  “Bingo!”

  Jill felt a boulder of dread forming and rolling around her stomach.

  “What do you mean?”

  “Number five. That’s the rule you broke.”

  “No. I couldn’t have. I’m always very care—”. Crap. She’d been so horny she couldn’t say for sure that she’d closed the program she’d been working in.

  Was it wrong that her first thought was that she hoped she hadn’t lost any of her word count?