For more information about Cassandra, check out her website at http://www.booksbycassandracarr.com, "like" her Facebook fan page at http://www.facebook.com/AuthorCassandraCarr or follow her on Twitter at http://www.twitter.com/Cassandra_Carr.
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Praise for Emma
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“Emma Lai’s stories are not only sexy, but fun and witty. Her characters are real and truly heartfelt. Even in her short stories, Emma Lai creates in depth characters like I’ve never read before… Emma Lai not only develops them, she creates worlds around them. When the stories end, you’re left begging for more. The sex scenes are hot and wicked… and gloriously descriptive ; )”
~The Obscure Vixen
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Riding Rodeo
“If you are into cowboys who can perform both on the circuit and in the bedroom then you want to check this out. The story is good, the writing believable and the characters wonderfully addictive - you absolutely must read the whole novella to see how this gonna end.”
~Niina, For the Love of Reading Reviews
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The Final Dance (Hooked Up at the Wedding anthology)
“There is a sense of romance and sensuality in the seduction, with the ideal amalgamation of [Josh’s]
strength and tenderness. The sex is passionate and descriptive enough so you can get carried away in the scene, with Emma leaving enough room to let your imagination go wild…perfect!”
~Nudge Wink Wink
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A Spanking Good Time—At Her Mercy
Tom sighed as the sun warmed his bare shoulders, back, and lower legs. A towel rode low on his hips, protecting the part of his anatomy that didn’t normally see daylight. His cock twitched. That was unless his wife, Leslie, took it into her head to spank him in public like she’d done when they’d arrived at the hotel.
The balcony he now sunned himself on, and where she’d delivered the bare-ass spanking, was hidden from view of the adjacent rooms by clever, angular design and from exposure to those on the ground below by a solid half-wall. Knowing no one would see, but excited by the what-ifs nonetheless, he’d gripped the railing as she’d delivered the fifteen blows and then fucked his ass with a strap-on. Leslie liked to push the comfort envelope, but she was conscious of both their reputations, especially his. He doubted the FBI would approve of one of their agents engaging in BDSM play out in the open, no matter if it was on St. Thomas. After all, the island was US territory.
Tom smirked. He rather suspected Leslie thought it was all her, but though he was the submissive in this relationship, it didn’t mean he wielded no power.
For example, while she’d spanked him every morning, she hadn’t again fucked his ass. However, he had plans to rectify that situation. Hence the towel.
When she’d told him to wait on the balcony for her to finish showering after their usual morning run and shared bath, it had been understood he’d do so in the buff, the same state he’d waited for his spanking every other day.
But not today.
The towel would earn him extra strokes and her dildo in his ass.
He readjusted his head on his forearms, which were folded to cradle his head, and shifted his hips as his cock hardened. The plush cushions of the lounge chair supported his considerable bulk, though his feet hung off the edge. He was six-four after all. Still, it was as if he were floating in a cloud, one of the few decorating the otherwise endless blue sky over St. Thomas.
A smiled tilted the corner of his mouth. Man, he’d really needed this vacation if he was waxing poetic about clouds and the sky. Thanks to a kick-ass sales record, Leslie had won this precious downtime at an exclusive resort as a prize from the company she worked for.
His heart swelled. She’d always come through when he’d needed her most.
Her no nonsense attitude coupled with a sexually aggressive nature had been a real turn on when they’d been dating. After he’d proposed, she’d informed him that she was a Domme and the only way they could have a permanent relationship was if he became her sub, which meant spankings and other forms of punishment, though he hadn’t stopped to ask her what those other forms were. He’d been on the verge or rejecting her lifestyle when it had dawned on him that since they’d started dating, he’d actually been less stressed. He’d been nearing the burnout stage when he’d met her, and he really loved his job. He just didn’t like the depravity of the assholes he chased as a result of it.
Relief had washed over him at the thought of relinquishing the responsibility of his personal life given the stress of his professional one. So, he’d taken off his belt as she’d instructed, dropped his pants and underwear, bent over and grabbed his ankles, and then received the first spanking of his adult life.
He’d grown almost unbearably hard at the first slap of leather against his bared ass. By the tenth, it had been all he could do to not come all over himself.
When she finished the spanking, she brought out a life-like strap-on dildo and had him put a condom on it then lube it up while she explained she would use it on him. Afterward, she’d lubed his ass, the penetration of her fingers sending zings of electricity throughout his limbs. When she’d thrust that thick cock in his ass, his knees had almost given out. He hadn’t lasted long beneath her skilled fucking and had shot his wad all over the back of the sofa.
She’d fucked him through the most intense orgasm of his life then buried that dildo as deep as it would go and waited until he’d stopped shaking. After she’d pulled out, she delivered five more strokes across his thighs with his belt for coming without her permission, something he hadn’t done since. A spanking after the intenseness of being fucked in the ass had been too taxing on his overwhelmed senses and he’d ended up blubbering like a baby. Not something he wanted to repeat. He was a man after all.
“Why are you wearing a towel?” Leslie’s voice snapped him back to his surroundings.
Her question reminded him of his need—the need to have her fuck his ass. A need that the memories of only moments before had intensified. He rolled over, swung his legs off the lounge chair then stood, his cock tenting the towel. Leslie’s blonde-haired, green-eyed beauty hitched his breath, as it did every time.
He dropped his head and thrust out his lower lip slightly. “I didn’t feel comfortable lying there naked.” Nothing got Leslie more riled than when he pouted and lied, though he didn’t do the combination often because it resulted in her using the punishment dildo on him and he could only take that mammoth dick every once in a while. Lucky for him, she hadn’t brought it on the trip.
“What happens when you lie to me?” she asked stepping through the French doors leading from the living area of the suite.
The Tigger nightgown she wore was so old it was almost threadbare and in the sunlight, he saw her rosy nipples and the outline of her heavy breasts, slim waist and rounded hips. He swallowed. “I get extra, ma’am.” What a lucky man he was.
“Extra what?” Her paddlebrush dangled from her left hand as if she’d forgotten it, but he knew, despite the lax grip, the control she exerted over her dominant side was strong.
He bit back a smile. He much preferred the wider head of the brush to the thick, brown leather belt she’d picked out for him and always made him wear. She swung the brush with more force and the resulting pleasurable sting covered more area. “Extra strokes, ma’am.” His cock jumped in anticipation of the brush striking his ass.
“Where?”
“On my thighs, ma’am.” The strikes on his thighs burned more, hurt for longer afterwards, serving as a reminder of her dominance, and he loved every tingly zing of pain that would accompany each step and each shift of his weight as he sat in a chair.
“Assume the position. Now.”
He deliberately misunderstood her and didn’t head to the half-wall, which had been the routine until this morning. Without undoing the towel, he bent over at the waist, still facing her.
“Why are you being such a bad boy?”
“I—I don’t know.”
“Yes, you do. Extra strokes. Tell me why.”
She’d rewarded his deliberate hesitation. “I thought someone saw us yesterday.” Another lie, but there was always the possibility it could be true.
She was silent a moment. “Lose the towel and get on all fours on the lounge chair.”
He straightened then undid the towel. She eyed his stiff cock like it was a treat. Normally when she wore her Tigger nightgown, it meant after his spanking he’d get to fuck her. However, he didn’t know if that was still part of the plan now that he’d misbehaved. Anticipation tingled along his spine. That was another thing he loved about his submissive role—not having to worry about the uncertainty of the unknown—which was all he did as a special agent.
He assumed the position.
“I was going to give you ten strokes, but now I’m going to give you twenty.”
“Yes, ma’am.”
“This should go without saying, but keep still and remain silent.” She tapped his thigh with one hand. “Spread those legs, honey.”
He obeyed and the brush connected across the fleshiest part of his right cheek. He hissed. Damn, no matter how prepared he thought he was she always managed to catch him off guard.
Her hand was cool as she slid it over the heated spot. “Good boy.” She squeezed a little then withdrew.
Leslie landed the second stroke right below the first then quickly followed with the third, in the same place, but on the left cheek. She’d played tennis in high school and had never lost her swing as far as he could tell. The fourth and fifth spanks struck right on top of the crease where his ass met his thighs. Then she moved back up, placing the sixth smack over the first one and continuing down through the seventh, eighth, ninth, and tenth.
“You may thank me for your original punishment now.”
“Thank you, ma’am.” He swallowed against the pleasurable pain rolling through him. “I’m sorry for not telling you the whole truth before. May I have the extra strokes on my thighs now, please?” His cock ached, it was so hard. He didn’t know how he’d survive the next ten without coming.
“You may.”
His tightened his fists. After the first stroke, he lost focus. With each consecutive stroke he concentrated on a small crack in the wall, trying desperately to ignore the tightening of his balls, the burn of his ass and thighs, the sweat rolling down his back and between his ass cheeks.
When she’d landed all ten strokes, she dropped the brush on the balcony floor, where it landed with a clatter. He almost jumped when she slide a warm hand down the length of his cock before cupping his balls. She tugged hard and he sucked in a sharp breath of relief as the threat of an orgasm retreated ever so slightly.
“Whose boy are you?”
“Yours, ma’am.”
“Good answer. Wait here.”
She was going to get the strap-on. Why else tell him to wait? Though he wanted to shout his triumph, he meekly said, “Yes, ma’am.”
Once again, the sunlight heated his body. Leslie always took her time, drawing out the anticipation. He silently recited the names of former FBI directors to tamp his excitement. He didn’t want to come until she gave him permission.
By the time she’d returned, his cock was only at half-mast, but at the sight of the pink, fleshy dildo strapped around his wife’s hips, it jumped in appreciation. She dangled a packet in front of him. “Put the condom on my cock.”
He knelt upright and took the foil square from her. After ripping the package, he removed the sheath and slid it onto the strap-on.
“If you take your spanking and fucking like a good boy, maybe I’ll let you come inside me.”
His cock sprang to full attention. There was nothing he liked more than filling Leslie with his cum. “Thank you, ma’am.”
“Get back on all fours. Spread your knees wider and tilt that ass higher in the air.”
“Yes, ma’am.” He assumed the position and restarted his mental recitation of names but gave up when she pressed against him, the strap-on nestling into the crack of his ass.
The dildo withdrew from his crack. Anticipation tightened his skin as he waited for her to no doubt lube the cock. He jumped when she thrust her slick fingers past his anus. She worked his asshole for long minutes before withdrawing.
“Spread your cheeks for me, honey.”
He rested his face and upper body against the plush cushions then reached back and grasped an ass cheek, one in each large hand. A cool breeze caressed the skin of his cock as he spread his ass for his wife. Not for the first time, he wondered what it would be like if she could fuck his ass while he fucked her pussy…
“Much better,” she purred.
He sucked in a sharp breath as the large silicone dildo slid into his ass. He concentrated on remembering to breathe as the dildo went deeper and deeper.
When it was buried balls deep—he still couldn’t believe the damn thing had balls—Leslie ran a hand down his back. “That’s my good boy. Take the cock like a good boy.”
“Yes, ma’am.”
“Are you going to be on your best behavior after this?”
“Yes, ma’am, I promise.”
“Good.” She pistoned in and out of his ass.
On each down stroke, her pelvis struck the still burning flesh of his ass, pushing him that much closer to release. When he thought for sure he’d lose his load, she pulled out abruptly.
“Stand up. I want to try something different.”
His legs could barely support him. How the fuck was he supposed to stand? But he scooted off the chair and stood as directed, albeit on wobbly legs.
Strap-on bobbing like a real cock, Leslie adjusted the lounge chair from a fully reclined position to a seated one. Then she removed the dildo. Holding it so it thrust upright from the chair, she said, “Sit on the dildo.”
What was Leslie up to? Did she mean for him to fuck himself while she watched. The idea tightened his balls. “Yes, ma’am.”
She held it steady while he sat and impaled himself on the cock. His breath hissed from him when it was fully seated in his ass. Leslie gave him no time to catch his breath. She lowered herself on his hard, throbbing cock.
The double stimulation was too much. She’d told him what she’d intended, for him to cum inside her, but he hadn’t anticipated having the dildo in his ass at the same time.
“Come for me you dirty little boy.”
God, I am so lucky. He threw his head back as the first jets of cum roared up his shaft.
Leslie gyrated on his pulsing cock, each movement shifting the dildo in his ass. “That’s it. Fill my pussy.” She rolled her hips faster as her orgasm claimed her, milking his cock of every drop of cum.
She continued to fuck him steadily all the way through his orgasm, until he was spent and leaning his head back against the cushions. But still she rode him, grinding her clit against his pelvis. He knew she liked to bring herself to a second orgasm that way, with his half-erect cock sliding in their combined juices until his balls were coated with both their cum. However, she’d never done it while a dildo impaled his ass, and as her second orgasm claimed her, a second orgasm trembled through him.
Leslie narrowed her eyes. “Did you just come again?”
“Yes, ma’am,” he panted, surprise having stole his breath.
“For that, you’ll have to walk around for the rest of the day with our cum coating your cock and balls.”
“Yes, ma’am,” he panted. “Thank you, ma’am.” What wouldn’t he do to experience that sensation again?
“You’re welcome, my love.”
~The End~
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About Emma Lai
Emma likes nothing more than a challenge. First, she tackled the male-dominated field of engineering. Next, she expanded her understanding of the world by studying international relations. Finally, her husband dared her to use her experience and knowledge and devote herself to writing. She
accepted his challenge and has been writing ever since.
Writing keeps Emma sane. Her characters demand their stories be told and nag her incessantly until she complies. The characters are very insistent about her remaining faithful to their individual adventures. As a result, Emma writes a range of genres and levels of heat. She never knows what the next set of characters will demand!
You can find out more about Emma by visiting http://www.emmalaiwrites.com.
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Other Daring Selections Coming Soon
March 2013
No Toys Tonight
by Cristal Ryder
No Toys Tonight—Off Duty
by Cristal Ryder
or buy the two stories together
No Toys Tonight—One Adventure, Twice Told
April 2013
Date Night
by Sandra Sookoo
Date Night—A Wife’s Tale
by Emma Lai
or buy the two stories together
Date Night—One Adventure, Twice Told
May 2013
Traffic Stop
by W. Lynn Chantale
Traffic Stop—Off Duty
by W. Lynn Chantale
or buy the two stories together
Traffic Stop—One Adventure, Twice Told
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