Okay, he does trust me.
“All right. Good. I really need to get home.”
He still won’t move his hand.
“Oleg.” I shove at his chest, which gets me exactly nowhere. “I’m not staying here to be stonewalled by you!”
His eyes widen in surprise. He takes his hand from the door. I seize the moment and grab the handle to yank the door open.
It slams in my face. Oleg gives my ass a single smack like I’m an errant child. It stings and tingles, making heat bloom in my core.
“Oh really? You’re going to spank me?” Now, I’m annoyed and horny. My panties are already damp. I send a challenging look over my shoulder. “Well, you’d better finish that thought, or I’m just going to be pissed.”
His brows shoot up. He moves slowly, like he’s making sure he understood me correctly, capturing both my wrists in one of his hands and pinning them to the door. When I don’t protest, he smacks my ass with his other hand, harder this time, then squeezes my offended cheek.
I let out a shaky breath, my pussy contracting. He nudges my feet wider. I arch my back and show him I really want it. He pulls the t-shirt off from my head and flattens my palms on the door. Leaving my hands unattended, he loops his forearm around my waist and yanks my panties down my thighs. Then he lights my ass on fire with swift, hard spanks. Like any time Oleg decides to go forward, he doesn’t hold back.
I gasp and squeeze my buttcheeks. It’s too much but also so good, so thrilling to me, that I bite my lip to keep from protesting.
I squirm under the onslaught. It’s right on the line between pain and pleasure. I hate it and love it at the same time. But when he slides the fingers of his other hand between my legs and palms my pussy while he keeps spanking, I flip way over to the side of pleasure. Delirious, erotic pleasure.
“Yeah,” I whisper-moan when his fingers start to move between my legs. I arch my back, stick my ass out, grind into his palm. It’s incredible.
The best thing ever.
“Ow. Oh…Oleg,” I gasp.
So unexpected. I had no idea I’d like this sort of thing.
One of his fingers sinks into me while I continue to ride his palm. I’m dancing under the sharp spanks he’s delivering, writhing and bucking. My cheek presses against the door. I don’t even recognize the panting needy woman dripping arousal down Oleg’s fingers as he spanks me hard until I—
Come.
Oh God, do I come. Hot, quick bursts of pleasure like popcorn explosions go off in my core. I see stars.
I reach my hand back to protect my ass from any further spanks, and Oleg instantly folds it behind my back like I’m his prisoner and massages my punished flesh with rough squeezes. His other hand still works between my legs, fingers slowly plunging in and out as I grind down into the cup of his hand.
Oleg
I slip my fingers out of Story. My lips find her jaw, drag back to her ear, leaving a trail of hot kisses against her smooth skin. I breathe in her sweet, vanilla scent. My shalun'ya loved her spanking. Her juices coat my fingers, her pulse beneath my lips still hectic. I wish I’d paid more attention to the discussions in the living room about whipping women.
Ravil met his wife Lucy at some private club in D.C. where he did such a thing to her. And last month, Pavel consensually enslaved a friend of Sasha’s after dominating her at the sister club in Los Angeles. He spends his nights demanding her sexual obedience via videoconference every night and flies out there to tie her up and hurt her in person every weekend. That’s already more than I wanted to know. I didn’t listen to the banter because picturing my roommates having kinky sex isn’t how I want to spend my time.
Now, though I wish I knew more nuances. I keep slowly running my middle finger through her plump, slick flesh. Everytime I circle her clit, she comes again—an aftershock that makes her muscles squeeze and lift and her breath catch.
Does she want my cock? What part of this did she like? The pain or dominance? Maybe not the pain because she covered her ass at the end like it was too much. I test my theory and use her wrists behind her back to maneuver her to the bed.
She goes easily. Willingly. Docilely. She wants more.
At least I think so. I sit on the edge of the bed and stand her between my knees. My cock strains to get out of my jeans. I rid her of the panties still tangled around her thighs. Her cheeks are high with color, her eyes glassy.