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This was the longest and hardest orgasm of them all.
I didn’t understand it. I didn’t try to either. I simply enjoyed every savage moment as it happened. My orgasm finally peaked. I writhed over the couch, thankful it was holding me up as my legs gave out beneath me. His fingertips never stopped taunting my clit, dragging out every terribly delicious second of my release as humanly possible.
By the time it was over, I was out of breath. My heart was racing, and my head was pounding with the blood surging through my system. He didn’t pull his hands away from my body just yet, making me suffer through one aftershock after the next until those finally tapered off. I twitched from overstimulation several times before he finally did.
Gently, he traced his fingers up my spine. I could feel small beads of sweat gliding along my skin as he wrapped his arms around me and lifted me off the couch.
“You looked so very beautiful when you came for me with your bottom covered in my marks,” he praised, and I blushed deeply, only just catching a full breath before I looked away.
“You were to wait for permission to come for me though, weren’t you?”
My stomach dropped with anxious fear. Would he spank me again? Would he use his belt?
“Yes, sir. Please, I couldn’t… I didn’t mean to…”
“I know, naughty girl. I think your bottom has had enough punishment though. Now, lower yourself down to your knees and I will handle your disobedience in a very different way,” he directed. My blush deepened as I tried to figure out what he might mean. I searched his gaze, seeing his own arousal and dark intent.
“No more spanking?” I asked.
“No, little girl. A spanking isn’t the only way to punish you,” he grinned mischievously, and I swallowed nervously. I stared back at him tentatively, not obeying him right away. His hand snaked up to cup my left breast, squeezing it gently before he captured my nipple in his fingers. I was so taken aback by the unexpected caress that the pinch that followed caught me entirely unaware.
He pinched it hard, making me whimper at first. Pain blossomed across my breast, ballooning outward and intensifying as he twisted it harshly.
“Oh! Please! I’ll be your good girl,” I pleaded, wanting to do or say whatever he wanted so that he would release it. When he finally did, I wasn’t prepared for the painful volley that followed, a cruel burn that was far more intense than the initial stinging pinch.
Without needing to be told again, I lowered myself to the floor. He offered his hand and I used it to balance as I climbed to my knees before him. I looked up at him, feeling vulnerable as he stared down at me. His hands snaked down to the waistband of his pants, and I gulped anxiously.
“Sir?”
“You came without permission, Naomi. You screamed for me. As punishment, I’m going to fuck your mouth and leave that pretty little throat much sorer than it already is,” he threatened.
My entire body shivered with arousal.
He unbuttoned his pants and the realization that I was going to see a man’s cock finally washed over me.
Not just a man’s cock.
Ryker’s cock.
I wasn’t just going to see it either. I was going to take it in my mouth.
My pussy clenched embarrassingly hard at the thought. Until this evening, I had been innocent. I hadn’t had an orgasm before, not ever. I hadn’t known what a hand spanking had felt like, or how much a belt could sting either. Even worse, I’d enjoyed all of those shameful things.
What if I liked this too?
I glanced downward as he dragged his palm up and down over his pants. I licked my lips, unable to miss the firm line of his cock beneath his trousers. Up close like this, he seemed even bigger than when I’d felt him against my hip.
I swallowed anxiously.
He grasped the zipper and slowly slid it down. With a building sense of impatience, I watched as he pushed down both his pants and his black underwear, revealing his cock to me for the first time.
I gasped openly at the sheer size of it.
It was even bigger than I’d imagined it would be. Sure, I’d seen a male cock in textbooks and on old, preserved carvings in the museum archives and even once in a human anatomy course on an older cadaver, but never like this. Never in person and most certainly not from down on my knees.
It was intimidating to say the least.
His fingers curled around his thick shaft, stroking up and down. It curved up like a fist, the head thicker than the rest of it. There was a slit at the top of it that was already glistening with a drop of arousal.
