#555) Who Is Sorry?

It was the weekend, no time pressures, no agenda, just time for the two of them to be together. As evidence of this, Jane was napping in the basement as John puttered around organizing his fishing equipment and putting it away after another summer. There was football on TV later, and even though she wasn’t a fan, Jane liked to cook lots of finger-foods and watch John enjoy himself. He’d be slightly inebriated by bedtime, and she thought she might just treat him to a sloppy blowjob, then look forward to a passionate, extended session of love-making on Sunday morning, complete with a little playful spanky-action, really satisfying sex, maybe even some butt-sex to keep everybody happy.
None of this happened the way that Jane envisioned.
She woke up out of a deep dream to find John sitting next to her on the retired, old couch. He looked lost in contemplation.
“I’ve been thinking, Janey. I don’t think I’ve done right by you. I don’t think I’ve been the Top you deserve, the Top you need to keep you in line. I’m sorry! I promise to do better in the future.”
“What…? No, you’ve been…” He had a hold of the seat of her panties. He was pulling these down. This all seemed like a continuation of that bizarre dream she’d just been immersed in. “What are you? No, John, you’ve been fine…”
“Fine! When has ‘fine’ ever been good enough for you, Princess?”
Jane found herself face-down over his knee, looking at the unfinished concrete floor, not at all sure what was happening or why.
The first spank that John administered across Jane’s upturned ass was a really sound one, one meant to jolt her out of her dream, out of any complacency. SMACK!
“OW! John! What did I do?”
“It’s not you, hon; it’s me. I’m so sorry!” He said it with such sincerity, from a place of such remorse, Jane half wanted to console him. SMACK!
“That really stings! Let’s talk about this…”
“No, darling. The time for talk is over. I’m sorry! I’ll do better!” SMACK!
Her voice was choked, the words were inarticulate, the spanks came faster. It seemed like they came even harder, but that was probably the cumulative effect. Jane gave over to it, let it consume her, let the fire that had been ignited across her ass lick into the small space between her tightly pressed thighs, light a different kind of fire in her pussy. She became a phoenix, the fire that reduced her ass to ashes made her sex swell and become soaked and take over her entire being.
Usually, whenever John would punish Jane hard, and the last spank had landed, he’d take a long time to hold her in his arms, let her finish crying, let her quiet herself, and then slowly, when the moment seemed right, he’d lay her on her back, part her thighs, part her pussy, lick her to orgasm before putting his erection in to take them both to the stratosphere. But this time, without words, without anything more than their eye contact, he placed Jane on the floor on all fours, and slipped into her from behind. Just as energetically as he had punished her bottom, he now fucked her sex, with a sort of hard and demanding and ‘no mercy’ exertion. It was grinding, groaning, glorious sex. Jane came again and again, and then wanted that for her lover, too.
“Do you want to finish up in my butt?” she solicited.
“No,” John shook his head. He withdrew from out of her, kissed her as he turned her body around, gently laid her on her back on the floor. He penetrated her sex once more, but it was his occupation of her mind that John wanted most. The sex was now in slow-motion, just a rocking-chair-like small gyration of the two of them in tandem. “Like I said… I’m sorry that you haven’t had more consistent guidance…”
“I’m a bad girl to my core,” she interrupted. “I need constant monitoring, lover. You could spank me daily and I’d still find ways to misbehave. I’m the one who should be sorry!”
They kissed. John caressed Jane’s bottom and she winced, just the reaction he wanted.
“I’m going to take you up on that offer of spanking you daily,” John said.
Jane started to protest, that wasn’t exactly what she’d said! She thought better of it, and just kissed her Top again. They began rocking together in a more rollicking, energetic rhythm, John was starting to huff and puff like the Little Engine That Could. Soon steam would be spouting from his ears and then it was just a matter of time before their joined sex organs would spout steam, and then other stuff.
“You’re such a good fuck!” he growled.
“Only because you are,” she returned. She wasn’t at all sure what had just transpired down here in the basement, but she wasn’t going to complain.

(I’m trying to find that “balance” of responsibility in a relationship. This piece came out of that. Enjoy, especially that great photo above!)

2 responses to “#555) Who Is Sorry?”

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s

%d bloggers like this: