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Casey lapped up her spanking, inspiring Rob with the growing redness of her lush bottom. He picked up his pace, and she spread her legs wider, offering her glistening slit to him with little decorum. The craving she exhibited between her legs was undeniable, and it matched Rob’s own burgeoning swelling. Her fingers spanned the table edge, clutching tightly as if he had pinned her to a life raft. Rob tossed the ruler onto the table, and the next sounded delight her: his zipper was lowering and he intended to enter her.
The location was not ideal for Rob, but since he had been with Casey, he had changed many of his habits. Spanking outdoors, sharing her with others, and soon he would put other ideas to the test. Work had been dismissed from his mind. The extraordinary sight of Casey’s shapely bottom and her self-spanking exploits had driven out the legal jargon of his daytime deliberations. Adding his own marks had been deeply satisfying, but now he simply wanted to crush himself against her hot cheeks and bury his aching stiffness deep in her pussy. Gripping her shoulders, with one forward lunge of his hips Rob speared her with his cock.
* * *
Such was the force of his thrust that Casey slammed into the table with a yelp. Her long hair was too tempting a lure to be left untouched. She had once told him she loved the pinch at the roots when he pulled her head up by the strands. Twisting his fingers around her loose hair, he did just as she desired, and he lifted the top half of her torso off the table with her makeshift ponytail, causing her breasts to be freed from underneath her.
Casey’s nipples were dragged back and forth across the table as Rob pummelled her from behind. The stinging in her scalp subsided, and she found herself wishing he would pull harder on her hair. The sound of his thighs slapping against her bottom encouraged her to bounce back at him. An earthy stream of noises slipped out of her mouth as she rocked back and forth on the table. When she clawed at the surface with her fingernails, she left tiny scratches in the varnish. She had come to crave the roughness and unexpected delights of improvised sex.
The master bedroom was the place for seduction and romance. The upstairs room was where fragrant candles were lit and occasionally background music played. She would swan about the room in his chosen lacy lingerie or allow him the indulgence of lacing a white corset about her waist, cinching her tight until she gasped. In the bedroom, she danced for him using the bedpost like a pole. Afterwards, there were always cuddles, and if time, a luxurious aromatic bath with her shoulders resting against his broad chest.
The frantic display of lust in her little office was not the same. It served a different purpose. Casey had been lectured about her neglectful behaviour and had been taught a lesson. Now as Rob pumped his hot milk into her pussy, she was reminded she was his, and she adored the sentiment of possession. It was at this point that Casey melted into the table and ceased to worry about her attitude—they were together again. The realisation triggered a stupendous orgasm of delight which rippled about her body in waves.
His hand released her hair, slipping down her back until it rested on her heated bottom. Rob caught his breath above her, and leaning forward, he whispered down into her ear, “When we’re in this house together, you’ll never sleep apart from me again. I could not bear it last night.”
She shut her eyes and let out a sigh of relief.
Chapter Ten: Preparing a Report
“I have a visitor at two o’clock, Casey,” said Mr Tolchard.
“Yes, sir,” said Casey expectantly.
“I need this report printed out and prepared.” He handed her a slip of paper with the title of the document.
“Very good, sir, I’ll get right onto it,” she said smiling.
In her little room, seated at the small desk and staring at the computer screen, she found the document. It was long and seemed to be a lengthy contract or some other kind of legal document. Casey had studied history—unlike Rob Tolchard, who was a leading expert in the inc
omprehensible and important field of law. She switched on the laser printer and hit the print button. The machine whirred and blinked at her, but no paper appeared in the out-tray.
There was no paper in the in-tray. She frowned and went to the cupboard to fetch more white paper. There was none. The box was empty and not a single ream was in the cupboard. Casey thought hard and could not remember when she had last bought paper from the small stationery shop. Picking up her jacket and car keys, she checked her watch. Plenty of time to sort the problem out.
“I’m going to get printer paper, sir,” said Casey as she stuck her head around Rob’s study door. He simply nodded back at her and returned to his reading.
Her little Mini, bright yellow and noisy, juddered up the road to the Banbury town centre and the office supply store. She bought a box of paper and paid with her own card. Rob always reimbursed her once a week of all expenses. The man was meticulous when it came to accounts and finances. Pocketing the receipt, she loaded the box in the car and drove back to his house.
The printer blinked at her again. Looking at the computer screen, there was a message. No black ink. She gaped in disbelief. Yesterday it had been fine—no issues or even a low-level warning. She slammed her hands on the desk and picked up her handbag again.
“Sorry, sir, run out of printer toner.”
Rob looked up this time, and his eyebrows furrowed. “I see. Well, off with you then.” He glanced at his watch. Time was ticking by fast.
The traffic looked worse and moved slower, and she struggled to find a parking space. The man in the shop gave her a second look, and she shrugged her shoulders at him. Fortunately, he had what she needed in stock. Rob was not one for computers or technology; though relatively young in years, he was old-fashioned in temperament and tastes. His house remained in a time warp, unsure whether to move from its stationary place in history. Casey thought she brought something different to its four walls—perhaps a little vibrancy and fun.
The printer was slow. Tediously slow. And as she fed it more paper, it chewed up the occasional sheet. Finally she was finished, and patting the pile of paper into neat edges, she smiled. She entered Rob’s study and cleared her throat before placing the printed document on his desk.
Rob looked at the pile of loose sheets and put down his pen. Leaning back in his chair, he pointed at the document and raised an eyebrow.
“That is not a report. It is a pile of pulped wood with black liquid arranged on it.”
Casey thought he was telling her some bad joke. She smiled at him and then wiped it off when she saw his face.
“Bound would be better, don’t you think?” he remarked. “A plastic cover and fasteners? Something smart. There should be some in the cupboard.”
The last words were said in dismissal, so Casey left holding the document in her hands. Opening the cupboard, she was dismayed to find there were no plastic covers or fasteners. She hunted frantically, aware the time was approaching for the arrival of Rob’s visitor.
She crept into his study with her handbag and car keys.
