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Now, his intentions confused her. Would it complete the punishment or make her ready for something else? The next twelve jolted her back into the here and now. Shrieking, she wriggled and kicked her legs. Long strands of hair dangled down past her face, sweeping the surface of the stage as she shook her head.
The last flick and rot
ation of his wrist, the final swat of wet fabric whipped across her inflamed rump and then he tossed the towel onto the stage by her head.
“Well done,” he said, “but don’t get up.” His hand nudged her back down and he moved directly behind her. Leah, resuming her humiliating pose, peered down through the strands of hair, noticing her fingers had left clammy prints on the dusty wooden platform.
Breathing rapidly, she heard him move; he had crouched down to inspect her once again. Starting at the base of her spine, steady thumbs traced the curvature of her bottom, slid between her buttocks, carefully parting her, seeking and probing her flaunted pussy. She pictured her pink puffed lips, his thumbs delving between them, separating and examining her wetness, the image framed by two blushed buttocks. Rick emitted a murmur. A deep purr, like a primal sound of delight. Without thinking, Leah clenched, capturing his penetrating thumbs. In response to her reaction, the noise from behind her deepened.
Seeing his actions in her head wasn’t necessary any longer; she could feel the liquid arousal dripping out of her. The seconds ticked by and she could barely stay on her feet as he combined his digital exploration with stroking the heat out of her globes.
Suddenly, Rick lifted his hands off her, rose and helped Leah to her feet, then he turned and picked up the coin. “Go, choose something. The dancing will take your mind off the pain.”
Leah ran her finger down the glass, viewing the options available. Putting the coin in the slot, she punched the number of the song. The Wurlitzer jukebox lit up and the ancient mechanism sounded especially loud in the empty club. Eventually, the needle landed on the record with a startling crackle.
There was the familiar pulse of nothingness as the record rotated and then the guitar started up. The cymbal joined in, followed by the rattle of quiet tambourine.
“Marvin Gaye,” said Rick over her shoulder. “A good choice.” He tugged on her hand, drawing her towards his chest.
His hands perched on her hips, while her own circled his neck. She swayed from side to side in time to the strum of the guitar. She crooned a few words as their feet shuffled to the beat. “Heard it through the grapevine, ooh, I’m just about to lose my mind.”
His face buried in her long hair, and he let out a groan. She knew his resolve was being broken with each line of the song. The small circles they moved in on the meagre dance floor grew tinier and less noticeable, until their feet stopped moving and the kisses began.
As the record ended, he walked her backwards, kissing her lips the whole time, until she bumped into the jukebox. The slanted front of the box was a perfect height. He lifted her up a fraction and she perched her bottom on the cold glass of the display. Her skirt had risen up high, showing her pussy as she opened her legs up wide. Any sense of discomfort in her whipped bottom had been forgotten; she felt only the glass under her cheeks.
His thumbs held apart her labia, seeking out her wet hole and at the same time, she reached for his zipper and released his hardness. Steely and upright, it had been bulging in his pants for some time; she had seen it after the spanking, waiting for her, like her wetness for him. Rick lowered his head between her legs and licked her slit, his tongue lashing up and over her emerging clit.
“Oh, my,” she muttered, leaning back on the jukebox.
His cock now fully exposed, it sprung to attention and he grabbed hold of her hips, aiming the tip for her impatient pussy. With one thrust he speared her and the box rocked slightly on its footings. He rose up on to his toes, lifting his cock up higher into her, hitting her inner belly with his firm erection. His length reached into her core and she grasped the edge of the jukebox for support. What began as gentle thrusts quickly transformed into hard pummels, rocking the jukebox on its casters. The records clattered in their slots and the coins in the box jingled as Rick fucked Leah into oblivion.
She screamed when she came, just like she would do at a pop concert. A release of energy and the orgasm rippled out in a continuous stream of pulses. A rhythmic climax to rival one produced by the jukebox.
Rick did not stop. He grunted, holding her body tight to his as he continued to use her, jerking his pelvis back and forth. Catching his breath, he eased out of her and, taking her arms, pulled her body around so she was bent over the box, her face pressed against the glass.
“Rick?” she said nervously.
“Hold still, beauty. Time to give you a good hard fuck,” said Rick into her ear.
* * *
She looked divine to him. Bent over, legs apart, pussy dripping with juices, and her hair cascading about her flushed face. Her bottom looked barely blemished: the towel had managed to deliver an effective spanking.
It didn’t take any force or effort to penetrate her. He slipped into her hole with ease.
He kissed the back of her neck and below, her dishevelled top had twisted about her torso. He knew she wasn’t wearing a bra. Her tits were far too tempting a target, jiggling about as he danced with her and then bouncing up and down as he fucked her. He reached underneath and cupped both shapely small breasts in his hands, giving them a squeeze. Leah gasped and about his cock, she clenched her pussy tighter.
“Good,” he groaned. He squeezed again and she repeated her strangulation of his erection.
He couldn’t help holding her hair. He didn’t pull tight on her long strands; he looped them around his fingers, using the locks to anchor himself to her, to make another connection to her body. She moaned softly as he thrust into her repeatedly, picking up his pace. His balls slapped against her bottom and with each rock of his hips, she made tiny noises. The sweet sounds of a woman in a state of bliss.
Rick paused, holding back, and he gyrated, teasing her sensitive entrance with the tip of his cock. The scent, the musk of sexual fluids, swam about him, overriding the stale tobacco. He nibbled on her neck, nudging the loose strands of hair away with his nose. Such a delicate neck, petite like her waistline, with an obvious pulse in her jugular as it vigorously pumped her blood, increasing her flushed tone and showing her arousal beyond its core.
“Touch yourself,” he sighed into her ear, and then glided back into her.
Her hand reached round and she began to rub frantically, fingers twirling, drawing out another orgasm and she tightened about him as she came, keeping him in her clutches. Bursting with renewed energy, thrusting his shaft to the hilt, Rick continued to hold off the inevitable. He wanted the moment to last forever and he told her to keep touching herself.
Leah slammed her palm down on the jangling machine. “Oh, I… my…” she screeched as she erupted into another orgasm.
