Fast and Loose - Page 26

I replied in a sequence of grunts and gasps.

‘I’m going to have you sucking my cock on your knees in this alley,’ he said. ‘You’re going to wear holes in those tights before I’m done with you.’

I wanted to kneel to him right now, to take what he had to give me, to worship his cock in front of everyone in town. I was shaking all over, my vision blurred, my orgasm on its way, sending sparks down the line in advance.

There was a rattling sound from somewhere close by.

‘Fuck!’ Tom looked over his shoulder. The rattling was a door being unbolted – the back-yard door of the pub. Whoever came out wouldn’t necessarily see us from the yard, but if they came out with an empty keg to store…

‘C’mon,’ he said, pulling my skirt down and my shirt shut.

He took my hand and hurried with me, not back to the street as I had anticipated, but further along the alley. I didn’t look back at the pub back yard. I could hear a keg being rolled across the ground.

I tried fastening my shirt with my trembling free hand, but I’d only managed a button and a half before we were out in some godforsaken back street. A couple of abandoned light industrial units stood by a railway bridge, underneath which a car was parked. A high fence separated the newspaper office from the street, which might have been visible from the very top floor, but was otherwise quite private, except from the trains that passed overhead.

Tom steered me smartly to the car, pointing his key at it to unlock the doors.

‘Get in,’ he said, after reclining the driving seat.

I was bundled in ahead of him and within minutes found myself crouching on my knees with my head down and Tom behind me, rucking up my skirt again and reversing my recent work on my shirt buttons.

‘You looked when I told you not to,’ he said, the moment my bottom was bare, rubbing his palm over its upturned cheeks. ‘You get one minute for that.’

‘One minute? What do you mean?’ I panted, though I had an inkling, and I was even more turned on than ever.

‘I mean this,’ he said, and a loud, solid smack descended on my bum.

I squealed and my head shot upwards, but he pushed it back down so my mouth was firmly against the head rest.

‘You need to learn,’ he said. ‘Don’t you?’

He took his hand away from my head so I could answer.

‘Do I?’ I said, but meekly.

‘Yes, you do. Stick your bum up. Show me you know what you deserve.’

I almost moaned with arousal and pushed out my cheeks, feeling the slight heat from his opening statement of intent throb then recede. I needed another. I needed to know if it really was as good as it felt.

I heard a beep – he must have been setting his watch – then he began to rain sharp, stinging smacks on both cheeks. He kept one hand heavily between my shoulder blades as he spanked me, making sure I held my position. When I wriggled my hips or tried to elude his hand, he spanked harder, ordering me to keep my bottom high or he’d make it two minutes. I couldn’t believe how strict he was – louche, laid-back, unreliable Tom Crowley possessed a core of steel. Who knew?

I did. I really knew. And my bottom knew better than anyone.

Never had a minute lasted longer. It took no more than sixty seconds to transform my bum from chilled to scorched, and my pussy wasn’t a lot cooler either.

‘Drama queen,’ he said, gloatingly, once his watch had pipped again. ‘It didn’t hurt that much.’

He was right – it hadn’t hurt that much, but I’d seemed to need to make loud, indignant noises every time his hand landed. It was a question of pride. I didn’t want him to know how much I was enjoying it; part of the satisfaction of the game was the pretence of outrage.

‘It hurt enough!’ I said, and he laughed.

‘That’s exactly what you needed then,’ he said, running his hands slowly and sensuously over my warmed rear. ‘Well, part of it,’ he amended, and I heard the ritual unfastening of the jeans.

I gripped the headrest of the lowered leather seat while he prepared to satisfy a need so ramped-up that I was practically whimpering with it. When he filled me, I let out a long ‘ahh’ of pleasure, urging him deeper.

‘Is that stretching you?’ he asked softly, his lips on my neck.

I thought my sigh would be answer enough, but apparently it wasn’t, because he gave my bottom another smack, as if it needed one, and said, ‘Well?’

Tags: Justine Elyot Erotic
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