"Wait!" Grace cried out, trying to pull away, her thighs already burning from the effort of not sinking down on top of him. Her knees were bent, but he wouldn't allowed her to straighten completely, and she refused to lower herself. "Take out the ginger."
"No."
The denial was swift and firm, and then he leaned forward to take her nipple between his teeth, using his leverage to push her down onto his cock. Grace's head fell back and she cried out as gravity forced her down onto him, his thick length sliding in easily thanks to her ample lubrication. His free hand squeezed her bottom, fingers seeking out the ginger.
The sharp stinging pain wrapped around her pleasure, enhancing it, as she was forced to ride him. Her nipples were tortured by his lips and teeth, her pussy filled and pleasured by his cock, the ginger in her ass pumped back and forth even as he squeezed her burning bottom cheeks. The strange feeling of two things sliding in and out of her, both of them burning in different ways, had her shuddering and sobbing with the overwhelming mix of sensations.
Even though she was on top, Alex controlled her every movement, taking her hard and deep, fucking her ass with the ginger, and sending her into a maelstrom of intense rapture. She screamed his name as she came, feeling him join her only moments later, filling her with his seed.
Hazy warmth enveloped her, soothing her aches, caressing her body, and she floated in a sea of comfort. The only sound that pierced that cottony enclosure of happiness was the soft, deep, beloved murmur, whispering the same thing over and over again.
"Sleep now, sweetheart... I love you, Gracie."
******
Looking over her shoulder one too many times proved to be her doom. Cynthia's horse balked at a fallen tree trunk across the path. She almost cursed too, but the sudden memory of soap flickered across her taste buds and she immediately bit her tongue. That was all Wesley needed to catch up to her though, he knew the Manse's woods much better than she did. It had only been a matter of time, but truthfully she'd been enjoying the chase and had hoped to keep it going a bit longer.
"Get off the horse."
Cynthia tossed her head, looking a bit like a fractious mare herself. "Or what?"
The white gleaming smile that flashed in the shade of the trees was not encouraging. "Or instead of punishing you, I'll drag you back to the house, tie you to our bed, and leave you there for the rest of the afternoon."
She only hesitated for a moment. Then she got off the horse.
"Good girl," Wesley murmured, dismounting as well, now that his wife had both feet firmly planted on the ground. She scowled at him, but he could see through her. Cynthia needed the excitement, the pain and the pleasure, as much as he did. She craved it. But only if she felt like she really earned it. Bedroom games occupied them the rest of the time, but every few weeks she needed to misbehave in a way to earn herself a truly rigorous punishment.
Which Wesley was always happy to provide.
She got a regular spanking at least twice a week, but eventually she always needed more. Yet, when the time came, she fought against her punishment, tried to talk or seduce him out of giving it to her, and he knew that if she ever succeeded she would be incredibly disappointed. The fight was part of the thrill for her, almost as if she craved being forced to his will. The idea that he might take her back to the Manse and leave her restrained, without any kind of gratification, was probably horrifying to her.
It was certainly a punishment that he planned on using sometime, when she had truly earned it. The withholding of pleasure. Except that he wouldn't just leave her there... no, he'd tease and torment her body until she was begging him for release. Today's silliness didn't amount to such a punishment though.
"Pick a switch."
"What?"
Wesley gestured to the tree beside him. "Pick a switch."
As he gathered the reins of both horses and began to lead them to a different nearby tree to tie them to, Cynthia gaped at him. "You want me to pick my own switch?"
"Better hurry or I'll do it for you."
Excitement and apprehension tingled through her at the dark look that went with his threat. She might never understand why she became so aroused at being punished by her husband, but did it really matter why? There was something wrong with her, she knew that, but it made both of them happy. The idea of being switched... it made her tingle even as it terrified her.
The tree he'd indicated had plenty of thin, whippy branches. Biting her lower lip, Cynthia found one that wasn't too thick, but wasn't too thin. She tried to break it off at the base, but the limb was strong. A second later, heat pressed against her backside as Wesley's arms came around her and he used a knife to cut the slender branch.
"Good girl," he murmured in her ear. "Now go bend over the tree and lift up your skirt."
Cynthia hurried to the fallen tree trunk, already anxious to get the bad part of being punished over with. Watching her, Wesley smiled darkly as he began to trim the branch, peeling off the bark, while her bare bottom began to squirm as she waited. He was careful to make sure the switch was smooth, so that there would be no chance of splinters.
At least she'd learned her lesson about waiting. He did love to keep her anxious, never knowing how long he was going to take before he began the punishment. One time, he'd added five minutes to the wait every time she spok
e. After that, she'd never tried to hurry him along again.
Bending the limber switch into a loop, holding both ends, he approached her from behind. For a long moment he just admired his target, smoothing his hand over her creamy bottom and tapping it lightly. She moaned a little, sounding both scared and excited. When he slid his fingers through her pussy lips, they came away wet. Wesley licked her cream from his fingers before stepping back.
"Hold still," he warned her.