Crimson 8/?

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Jack

My heart started pounding, and it was weird because that isn't usually the part of my body that's pounding when I'm about to do what I was about to do. In fact, by that point, I was starting to get paranoid, thinking that I may have left my dick in the glove compartment with her panties, and I had to make myself stop thinking about that because Kara, this girl I'd known for a week, was now a piece of over-cooked spaghetti in my arms.

Sweet Jesus.

Our kiss could've easily been CPR.

And I had to start acting like a paramedic and not the fucking patient.

"Sit down on the bed," I told her so I could finish getting undressed, and she did, and my bed is much higher off the floor than hers is so her feet were swinging back and forth while she waited. "Do you always have pretty candles next to your bed?" she asked me, "Or are those just for me?" I didn't lie to her, "They're for you." "That's very sweet of you," she said as she lit them, and when I shut off the closet light, there was nothing left but Kara and candlelight. I sat down next to her and she asked me one more thing, "Did you go buy them or did you already have them?" I smiled, "I bought them at lunch today, and just to get the rest of the interview out of the way, they were three for twenty dollars and supposedly they smell like vanilla."

"The opposite of what you are," she said.

(And no one has spanked this girl before? Really?)

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I put my hand on her thigh just below her dress, and the room got really quiet, "Open your legs." And when my hand slid between them, I wasn't surprised, "Kara, you're soaked." I let her lean against me before she dehydrated. "You took my panties away; I had nothing to absorb it." I laughed and tucked one of her legs under mine to keep hers spread as we both fell back on the bed. She moaned as I ran the back of my between her legs over and over and over again just to feel her get wetter and wetter and wetter, and then she started to beg, my name and the word, "Please," in a frantic little whisper that to this day makes me want to jerk off if I think about it for too long. Kara can beg better than a stray dog at a church cookout. Sometimes it's just unbecoming, or I just want her to think it is...

"Kara, stop it."

"Jack."

"Stop it."

And I turned my hand around and grabbed her soaking wet offense and explained to her that this isn't the way we do things, that she doesn't get wet without my permission, and that if she does, this is how she'll be spanked, that she can forget being across my lap if she can't even control herself. She stared at me and waited until I was finished before she whispered, "Jack, I can't. I can't follow that rule." I leaned down to kiss her because she's twice as beautiful when she's painfully honest, and when the kiss ended, I stayed right there with her, "Then pull your dress up."

"Jack."

"Don't make me ask you twice." I spanked the inside of her tight little thighs until they were on fire while she flinched and begged me to stop, and then I asked her an important question before I let her feel my burning up hand between her legs, "Are you wet again?"

She nodded, and all I could hear was, "Oh god, oh god, oh god," while I spanked every bit of it away. She was clinging onto me toward the end, and I could feel her crying, and a bit of panic coursed through me even though she had a safe word because this was new to her, and I whispered in her ear, "You okay?" and she whispered back, "Fuck, I just came."

to be continued...