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Getting out of the car, I watched his face as I walked aroundto the front of the vehicle. I faced him, the wooden bridge behind me, as I pulled my shirt over my head. Every movement was slow, sensual, and I revealed every inch of skin like it was a present to be unwrapped. He watched me through the windshield, his fist resting against his mouth, his gaze heavy. My nipples hardened as I took off my bra and the breeze swept over me. I slipped my shoes off, then reached under my skirt to pull my panties down and then dangle them from my finger.
He got out of the car, tension in every step he took toward me. Like he was trying to hold back, as if part of him wanted to rush at me and grab me.
“Bend over the hood,” he said. “And pull your skirt up.”
I obeyed, my eyes lingering on him as I pulled the skirt up over my ass and bent down on the hood. The metal was still warm as I laid my bare tits against it. He stood behind me and squeezed my ass with both hands.
“Worship means letting me use you as I please,” he said. One moment, his touch was soft; the next, it was tight and rough. “If I want you to suffer for me, you suffer. If I want you to endure pain, you endure it. If I want you to pleasure me, touch me, offer your body up for me…then you do it.”
“Yes, Master.” The title felt strange on my tongue, frightening and nerve-wracking, but somehow so right. He paused, his breathing going still for a moment. Then he laughed softly, the sound sending goosebumps prickling over my back.
“I’m going to hurt you,” he said, leaning over my back as he spoke to me, the palm of his hand rubbing over my ass. “And you’re going to thank me. Do you understand?”
“Yes, Master.” Ooh, it made me tingly every time. I gulped and then shifted my position so my legs were spread a little wider.
“You’re learning to be such a good girl,” he said. His hand stroked over my thigh, then snapped back, and his palm smacked against my ass with enough force to make me gasp.
“Thank you, Master…” He pulled his hand back again and landed another sharp smack on my cheek. I groaned, forcing out the words, “Thank you.”
He kept going, spanking me until my skin was hot and stinging. I kept my legs spread, my skirt pulled up, but before long, I’d begun to shake. Every biting impact fed my arousal a little more, and my pussy was wet after a dozen smacks. He kept going, pausing only to say, “It’s beautiful when you suffer for me. When you endure because you know it pleases me. You’re doing well, angel.”
The praise fueled me. The next dozen swats made me cry out, and I whimpered, waiting for the next smack to land. It was humiliating in exactly the way I craved, making me feel small and blissfully overtaken.
“Does that hurt?” he said sweetly, rubbing his hand over my stinging skin. His palm was so warm, even warmer than my own burning flesh.
“It hurts…but I like how it hurts.” I arched my back, pushing my ass back against his hand. I gave a desperate moan as I did it, anticipating the sting, but wanting it so badly. “Please…may I have another, Master?”
He laughed, and I thought he sounded so fucking sexy that I squirmed. He spanked me again, right on the curve between my ass and my thigh, and my cry of pain quickly dissolved into a moan of pleasure.
“God, you’re so sexy,” he said, dragging his nails down my skin and leaving burning scratches behind. “Such a good little slut for me. So wet from your spanking…” Two fingers slid into my pussy, and I bowed my head at how good it felt.
He pumped his fingers inside me, continuing to spank me with his free hand. My pleasure was growing, my core swiftly heating as my breath came faster. “Oooh, that’s going to make me come…please…please, let me come…”
“I’m going to bring you right to the edge,” he said, his tone leaving no room for argument. “Then I’m going to stop, and you’re going to get on your knees. You’re not allowed to come yet.”
I wanted it so badly I could have cried.
“Don’t stop…” My voice was heavy with need. “Please…please…”
He withdrew his fingers, bringing them to my lips. “Open,” he said. “Use your tongue and get me clean, filthy girl.”
I did as he ordered, cleaning my arousal off his fingers as my pussy throbbed with the want for more. He wrapped my long hair around his fist and pulled me up, gripping it as he guided me to my knees. “You know I like you desperate…waiting…needing more. Needingme.”
“I need you,” I whispered the words as I gazed up at him, nuzzling my face into his groin. I could feel his hard length through the cloth, and I closed my mouth over the bulge as if I could tear through the fabric to get to him. “Let me worship your cock, Master. Please.”
He zipped his jumpsuit down further, leaning back against the Mustang’s grill as I massaged my hand over him, over the black fabric of his briefs between us. He pulled them down, and I leaned close, taking him in my hand and spitting on the head of his cock. I used my saliva to make my hand slick, stroking him slowly, watching his face contort with pleasure.
“Squeeze a little more,” he said, his voice husky. “That’s it, just like that…”
I kept my face close, inhaling his musky scent before I took him into my mouth. I bobbed my head on him, savoring him, humming as the taste of him filled my head. I was so turned on that any whisper of a breeze over my skin felt overstimulating, my every nerve so sensitive. Manson still held my hair, guiding my head, his hold tightening when he groaned.
“Fuck, Jess…your mouth feels so fucking good.”
I loved to watch the pleasure on his face. His half-lidded eyes, his jaw clenching and then relaxing as he leaned his head back. Framed by the Mustang’s shining chrome and bright paint, he looked unbearably sexy, too good to keep my hands off of. While my mouth pleased his cock, my hands moved over his thighs, my nails leaving teasing scratches on his skin.
After several minutes, he hissed softly and tightened his hold, pulling my mouth off him. I strained toward him, wanting the taste of him in my mouth, but he gave my head a little shake and said, “On your hands and knees, now. Get your face against the ground.”
I obeyed, moving into position. I lay my cheek down against the rough old asphalt, keeping my ass up and my knees slightly spread. I felt so exposed out here — the sounds of nature all around me. Occasionally, I’d hear a car pass on the road and I’d hold my breath, certain that at any moment, I’d hear someone shout that they could see us. But the fear of getting caught was part of the thrill.
