Their hands began tentatively, but their hesitation lasted only seconds. With a burst of energy, not unlike the storm outside, they dove joyfully into each other’s flesh, moving quickly toward the bedroom, soon to land in a wild heap in the middle of Dusty’s downy comforter.
His cock thrust deep and his hands played at her ass like he owned it, reveling in skin he’d bruised and abused, spanked and strapped and now loved with an abandon he rarely used for a first fuck. Dusty returned his passion pawing at his hard body. For a time she pulled away from him to bring his erection inside her mouth. Then, with her body heat at a hopeless pinnacle, she maneuvered around again and let him in for the final thrust that exploded around them in a self-fulfilling shower of release.
Afterwards, they slept, too dazed to say a word. But side by side inside her sheets, they were content enough to pass the night both as enemies and friends.
The morning dawned with another brilliant blue sky, and the sun shining through the window.
“Good gawd!” Dusty exclaimed as she bolted from bed, seeing the time. She almost forgot that she had company for the night until she found Ty Holbrook just finishing his shower in the bath.
“Oh, my,” she backed away.
“Bet you’re going to be late opening the store,” he said as a way to say good morning.
“Yes, and I’d better get going.”
He smirked jauntily as he watched her strip from her robe and move quickly into the bath. Even after having slept with the man and being spanked bare-bottomed over his lap, she felt a little self-conscious exposing herself to him in broad daylight. Thankfully, Ty didn’t stay for the whole ritual but left her by herself to get ready for work. Dusty rather hoped he would be long gone by the time she got out of the bathroom. But when she entered her living room, she was surprised to see him sitting casually on the sofa like he belonged there. He was fully dressed, while she remained in her robe.
“I thought you’d be headed back to your ranch by now,” she said.
“Just a last piece of business.”
“Business?” she wondered aloud. “I didn’t think of last night as business.”
“I didn’t either, but there is something unfinished between us. I am going to paddle your ass for that tizzy you raised last night.”
“You will not!” she retorted as she started to turn away.
“Oh, yes, I will.”
She turned around with her eyes flashing, but she couldn’t think of a thing to say. All she could think of was what had happened between them the night before—everything from the harrowing moment on the mountain to the divine moment in bed.
“Now, get over here, like a good girl,” Ty said, her dazed expression. “I think this should do to make my point.” He held up a wooden spoon he must have taken from her kitchen wall.
“You wouldn’t.” She stared at the thing dumbfounded.
“Oh, yes I would. You were recklessly stupid, almost costing both our lives, and if you think I’m going to let you get away with that …”
Moving on her quickly he led her by the arm into the kitchen where he pulled out a chair, sat down and drew her over his lap.
With just her bathrobe to cover her, it was quick business having her ass bared. And that done, he began with the three-inch wide spoon, letting the thick round end come down on her quivering ass cheeks with a firm hard smack. Alternating his aim, Ty began a staccato rhythm that picked up speed as he got going. Dusty tried to keep her complaints to herself, but the sting was instantly hot and nasty. The spoon was no soft piece of leather striking her skin, but hard and unforgiving.
“Ouch, that hurts like hell!” she shouted.
Smack! Another hit landed.
“Ouch, no, ooo, please!” She squirmed for some kind of relief, though there was little to be had.
“Ouch, ow, no, ooo, ouch!”
“Oh, I’m glad it’s hurting!” Ty interrupted her protests. “If there was ever a woman that needed a good paddling, you’re it, Dusty Marin.”
“Please, Ty, stop!”
Smack! He answered her with a forthright hit right on the center of one cheek.
“Ouch!” she protested, while Ty moved swiftly from one cheek the next in a cadence that seemed to have no end.
“Ty! I’m sorry.”
“You’re damn right, you’re sorry.”
Smack!
He let loose with another mean whack. Each time the wooden spoon landed, the dreadful burn increased.
“No, no really, I was stupid about coming off the mountain … I was just …”
Smack!
“Ouch! Stop!”
“Please, I know I was wrong this time, please just stop. Ouch!” Hot, biting, sharp, caustic … the heat felt like a torch at her ass. “Please, I can’t! I’m sorry.” She let out every plea she could muster with all the savage distress she was feeling. “Oh, no, ouch, goddammit ouch!” He’d struck her thighs several times and she bucked so hard, she practically escaped his grasp. Her legs were flailing wildly and her mouthy retorts became more impassioned.
“You think can act like a sane human being!” Ty asked.
“Yes, yes I can.”
Smack!
“Ouch!”
He seemed to be slowing down, the strikes further apart, but with each landing on scalded skin, it was still agony.
“I’m sorry, Ty, you have to believe me.”
“I think I do,” he replied, though he added a few more whacks. These seemed more like swats, though to such injured skin they still hurt. Dusty could sense the end and nurtured that thought, becoming as relinquished as she’d ever been in a man’s arms.
When he finally stopped and pushed her off his lap, the air between them jumped with electricity. She stood before him, neither one knowing what to say. It seemed that everything had been said, but they needed some way to ease out of what was becoming an awkward moment.
“I was silly last night, Ty,” Dusty finally said. She pulled her robe around her and tied it tightly with the sash. “And I’m sorry. It’s just the cabin … it’s gone now.” The sad memory of that fact swept through her quickly and her body trembled, the reality gathering steam.
“Yeah, I’m afraid it’s gone,” Ty agreed, joining her solemn grief. “You could rebuild on the lower rise, where it’s safer.”
“You’d let me do that?”
“Oh, there’d be a price.”
“Yeah, I suppose you’d want to smack my ass any time you want to.”
“Naw,” he shook his head. “But if you marry me, we can end all this hassle.”
“What!” She looked as though her jaw was going to drop to the floor, then she sunk down in a chair opposite him, her legs too weak to hold her.
“We can’t seem to extricate ourselves from each other. We’re kind of like a tangle of barbed wire stuck together, poking each other every time we move. It isn’t gonna end with this, Dusty. And maybe that’s because we don’t want it to.”
“Ty Holbrook, I can’t imagine being your wife. You’d be getting mad at me every day, hauling me over your lap, or whatever, blistering my ass.”
“Would that be so bad, if it means times like last night?” His eyes had taken a tender turn that was hard not to feel.
“That was a fluke,” she said.
“Was it?”
“But how can I marry you when you’re my worst enemy?” she exclaimed.
“As easily as I can when you’re mine.” He reached out and touched her face with a gentle hand. “Maybe we can turn enemies into friends.”
She knew as she sat near him trembling, that she was going to say yes, though she would never understand why.
More Lizbeth Dusseau Spanking Erotica…
The War of the Remington’s
Dante’s Heat
Wild Roses
Aunt Daisy’s Secret
No More Secrets
Wayward Angel
Fire Under Glass
Reckless Disregard
Off The Beaten Path
Shakespeare’s Brat
A Midsummer’s Nightmare, Short Stories
Burning Confessions
Rough Justice
The Barmaid & The Blacksmith, Spanking Version
Four Confessions
Lizbeth’s Big Book of Spanking Stories I
Lizbeth’s Big Book of Spanking Stories II
For a complete catalogue of Erotic Fiction…
Pink Flamingo Publications
P.O. Box 632, Richland, MI 49083, 1-877-629-0051
E-mail: [email protected]
Website: http://www.pinkflamingo.com
Birches, Cowgirls & Angels Page 28