“Queuing Up” from Naughty Spanking Stories from A to Z 2

A teaser…from Naughty Spanking Stories from A to Z 2. I’ll have Spanked excerpts and interviews here starting in July.

from “Queuing Up” by Rachel Kramer Bussel

That first slap always takes me by surprise, even when I’m expecting it. There is such a vast difference between my ass laid bare, exposed to the air, but relatively intact, and the heat that brews along that most sensitive of parts after he has spanked me; from eager to seething in several brutal, beautiful seconds. Craig holds his hand tight against my skin, maintaining the warmth and the pain, making it last those few precious seconds longer. I’m lying naked across his lap, and beneath his tight jeans, his cock presses up against me, hinting, surging, wanting, but my spankings aren’t about his cock, as much as I might want them to be, as hot and wet as they might get me. Sometimes I wonder if they’re even about me at all; Craig comes to me with a glint in his eye, a severity of purpose and steely resolve to spank me until I flip over some immutable edge that I am in constant awe at how much our urges are in sync.

I squirm beneath him, my clit alive with the sensation of pleasure and heat as I wait for more. He raises his hand and brings it down equally as hard on my other cheek, and I smile to myself, even as my pussy clenches fiercely. His spankings are like a magic key that unlocks the secret of my desire, and even when I’m not totally in the mood, when my pussy seems to be on hiatus, when I want him to fuck me but don’t really need it, a few smacks from his strong hand and I’m back on the edge, back to being willing to do absolutely anything for him to fuck me. He knows this too, can sense from the way I breathe, the way I squirm and then stay absolutely still, that I am torn between wanting more spankings and wanting his cock filling me all the way up, though that choice is up to him, as always. His hand rains down, smack after concentrated smack, so perfect in their placement that I almost forget that tonight, as we often do, we have an audience, an eager female face soaking up all that we are doing, so new to her and yet, I sense, already unfurling a special signal inside her, a need that now that she’s discovered it must be attended to immediately.

Lara, our gorgeous, glamorous companion, with her black bobbed hair and perfect red lipstick, tattooed poise and perpetual, sexy smirk, doesn’t quite know what to expect, and watches us with an eagle eye. When I look up, I see her gaze frantically casting about, taking in my screams of pleasure, my tightly clenched fists, his strong arm moving up and down, but never mechanically, always seeking out that next perfect spot that has yet to burn with the flame of his smacks. I can tell from a momentary meeting of our gazes, my face slack with lust, hers eager and nervous and aroused all at once, that she wants him to spank her. And I have something I want too, so this will be perfect. Craig keeps going, his hand instilling in me everything he’s ever wanted me to know, hitting me in exactly the right places to make my ass want more and more and more.

Then he pushes me reluctantly off him, moves me slightly aside and unzips his pants. That delicious metallic noise alone is almost enough to make me come in anticipation. He takes his cock and slides only the very tip along my wetness, teasing me, before stroking me there with his fingers and I bite my lip hard, surely leaving a mark, so I don’t cry out and break the elevated silence that protects our perfect bubble. Suddenly, I can’t stand it anymore, and take Lara’s hand, tugging her towards me. She is ready now, ready for anything after the show we’ve just provided her. She tumbled home with us in a blue of champagne and flirtation, insinuation and entendre, and I’m sure expected simply more of the same, but we’re going to give her something to remember forever, or at least, I am.

Read the whole story here

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