He wallops me with the textbook. "That's to help you remember."
“Thank you, Sir.”
“You can come.”
When he returns to fondling me, I murmur another, "Thank you, Sir."
My orgasm swirls inside me, ready to burst, mixing pain and pleasure. And when I come, I’m riding a new and beautiful high. I’m like a surfer catching a wave, not the quaint Atlantic ones, but the larger Pacific kind. It washes over me, trembling my body. My limbs would probably be flailing if they weren’t bound.
When I finally wash up on the beach, a long and contented sigh escapes me. I wallow in the bliss until the discomfort of my position and the pain in my rear return to my awareness. The blood pulses strongly between my thighs, reminding me it was all worth it.
I want to stretch out or fall onto the mattress, but Tony isn’t done.
CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE
I hear him unzip his pants and sense him kneeling behind me. Craning my head, I see him take off his shirt. He must have brought along one of the condoms, which he opens. After putting it on, he rubs his cock along my folds. I find myself eager for him. He’s given me two amazing orgasms, I want him to get his.
“You should see how beautiful your ass is right now,” he says as the runs his thumb where the crop had stung the most. “Do you bruise easily?”
“I don’t think so,” I answer, but it may be a while before I’ll want to sit down.
His thumb comes close to my anus, and I jump.
“Not ready to lose your last virginity?” he asks.
“Definitely not,” I reply.
He murmurs, “I may make you change your mind about that.”
My heart skips a beat. I’m not ready for anal sex. It just sounds so wrong. And I don’t see how it can be pleasurable. As much as Tony turns me on, I don’t know that I will ever want to do it with anyone.
Again I’m cognizant of the helpless position I’ve put myself in. If he wanted to penetrate me there, I wouldn’t be able to stop him. He’s right: selling my virginity this way was dumb.
But when his cock strokes my clit, I feel my IQ dropping. My body has become a glutton for orgasms. At the moment, however, I would be happy just to feel him inside me.
I push myself against his cock. He obliges and pushes a few inches into me. My pussy gleefully takes him in, though it hasn’t healed from the previous stretching. He rubs my lower back before sinking further in. I gasp at how hard and large he feels. He rests inside me, grunting when my muscles involuntarily flex about his shaft. Though my pussy is still raw, I savor how he fills me.
“What is your safety word?”
Why is he asking me that? What is he planning on doing?
“Tar Heel,” I answer.
He pulls out a few inches, then sinks back in.
“Did you like the crop?”
I hesitate, then say, “Yes.”
“Is that the truth? You must not lie to me.”
“I liked that I got to come after it was all done.”
He keeps his thrusting to small, slow movements, as if acclimating me to him while finding the angle that makes me go weak in the knees.
“Did you like being spanked with your textbook?”
“Honestly? I would have preferred something else just ‘cause...it’s a textbook, not a BDSM thing.”