Fiction – Serenity, part 3

Find part 1 here

Find part 2 here

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As Dave ran his finger gently over the crease between her shoe and her foot, Serenity cried out in pain. It felt to her as though his finger was a scalpel, cutting further into the wound of her bleeding foot.

“Oh God, sorry.”

He blushed.

“Let me kiss it better”.

Bending over, he brushed his lips over the arch of her foot. Serenity held her breath. The pain was still there, but there was something soothing about the way his lips caressed her tender skin, and she started to relax ever so slightly.

“Better?” he mumbled, not taking his mouth away from her foot. “A bit”, she responded, slightly distracted by the sensation of his warm breath on her skin.

For the first time since coming home on Friday night, Serenity started to forget a little about the pain in her foot and feel more herself. She took the opportunity to survey the back of Dave’s head properly for the first time. He was good-looking, of that there was no doubt. Not her normal type though. He had the physique of a cyclist – tall, lean and  muscular, and a friendly, open, slightly weather-beaten face under sun-bleached hair that seemed contrary to the normal pallor of most other night-owl barmen she knew.

Serenity shifted slightly on the couch, running her eyes down his back, to where his t-shirt met his belted jeans. The movement caused her robe to open slightly, revealing more thigh, but she resisted the automatic reflex to close it again.

Sensing the movement, Dave looked up quizzically. “Do I need to kiss the rest of your legs better too?” he smirked. She giggled. “Well, it might take my mind off my feet…”

Dave grabbed a calf in each hand and kissed her knees playfully. “Here? And here….and here….and, oh, and here?” With that he moved slowly and surely up the inside of her left thigh, stopping only to glance up at Serenity’s face and make a mental note of the hardening outline of her nipples under her robe.

The goosebumps on her legs followed his progress further up her thighs as sticky juices seeped from her pussy in anticipation of where his mouth was heading. As he reached the edge of her robe, he snapped at it playfully and looked her directly in the eyes for the first time.

His eyes flashed at her, a deep, dark blue. Yes, they were friendly and open, but she also saw a hunger and an intensity in them that she realised she had not seen in anyone for a long time. The look was both provocative and searching, and she knew instantly what it meant.

Almost involuntarily she parted her legs slightly wider, causing the robe to fall open and expose her glistening cunt to his gaze.

“Good girl”, he whispered.

Her lips parted and her breathing grew heavier as she could no longer hide her arousal.

“But you’re not really a good girl, are you Serenity?” he continued in the same, soothing tone, “you’re a very bad girl, aren’t you? I watch you, you know. Watch the way you flirt outrageously with any man that takes your fancy. I watch the way you use your body to lure them into your little trap. Then you devour them and spit them out, don’t you?”

She nodded silently. His tone changed.

“Slut.”

A wave of emotion washed over Serenity at that moment. Her heart pounded faster, and her lips formed into a smile of relief. Finally somebody had dared say it to her face. She felt…recognised?…in a way she had never experienced before. It simultaneously calmed and emboldened her, as the balance of power seemed to have palpably shifted.

She nodded again.

She didn’t expect his next move, which was to take his middle finger and plunge it deep into her dripping pussy. She held her breath and awaited his approval, which he gave with a curt nod, and the addition of a second finger. As he proceeded to rub his thumb over her pulsating clit, she realised she was almost forgetting about the pain in her feet. Almost, but not quite.

“You’re holding back”, he stated calmly.

“It’s…my feet” she groaned, the strangest mix of pain and pleasure causing her to shiver.

He continued to rub her clit, but looked thoughtful.  “There’s nothing I’d like better than to bury my face in your cunt and lick you until to scream my name. I don’t think that’s what you need though. You’re obviously still being punished, and I think we need to make sure that punishment is seen through to the end, don’t you?”

Still apparently lost for words, Serenity simply nodded for a third time.

“Turn over”

Fear and anticipation began to rise inside her. As Dave showed no sign of removing his fingers from between her legs, she rolled over awkwardly, as best she could. She was glad her face was pushed into the cushions of the settee, as it meant she could hide the rising redness in her cheeks.

Dave lifted up her legs and slid himself onto the sofa underneath them, pushing her robe further up her back and exposing her backside fully.

“Do your feet still hurt?”

She muffled an affirmative, as he withdrew his fingers from her cunt, and placed his hand gently on her bottom, running it speculatively over her cheeks and upper thighs.

The combination of the slight suffocating effect of the cushions, and the tightening of her chest with expectation meant her breathing grew shallower and more urgent.

Dave’s soothing tone came back. “Sssshhh…it’s ok”. His hands continued to run over her backside, tracking the swell and curves of her body with each finger in turn, then gently fanning her cheeks with his palm. Slowly, and gently he replenished his fingers with the natural lubrication of her pussy, before testing the skin of her anus with his index finger.

She tensed, waiting for the intrusion, but it didn’t come. Instead, he lifted his palm and slapped it down tentatively on her right buttock, causing her to pant with the same rhythm. When no protest came, he smacked his palm down harder, once, then twice in quick succession.

Serenity had never felt such helplessness. She knew she could tell him to stop at any point, but her body seemed unable to make her actually do so. It was as though her will had dislocated itself from her brain, and something primal had taken over. All she wanted was for the pain to stop, and yet, all she wanted was for him to carry on.

The slight stinging on her right buttock left behind a tingly heat as he turned his attention to the left one, again smacking his palm down hard three times in quick succession.

Once he had finished the spanking, he waited, gazing at the red marks on her dark skin with satisfaction.

Now, finally, with all her concentration on the pain on her behind, the pain in her feet drifted out of her mind, and she suddenly found she could no longer hold herself together. Her body convulsed, and tears started to stream down her face. Dave pulled her up and towards him, gathering her in his arms, and holding her tight as he waited for the roller-coaster of emotions to leave her body.

They sat there like that for what seemed like an eternity, neither of them speaking, until finally she kicked off her shoes and held him closer.

THE END.

Don’t put that in your mouth, you don’t know where it’s been!

A little while ago, I watched a documentary about a 17 year old thinking of “giving up” her virginity. Firstly, I have to say I was impressed with the maturity that both she and her parents approached the matter. I certainly made a few notes on how to deal with things for when my kids are old enough. Secondly, however, I have to admit that I did also find her matter-of-factness about the whole thing rather intimidating. I get the impression I spent more time fretting about whether to wear my green top or my pink top on a night out than I think she did on the whole “I’m going to go get myself laid” thing.

Anyway, I digress. We followed said teen at the end of her first “girls’ holiday” to somewhere warm and Balearic. Had she done the deed, asked the presenter? No, came the response, but she did give someone a blow job behind a nightclub – and get this; SHE WASN’T EVEN PARTICULARLY DRUNK.

I have to say I was astounded. To go from nought to blow-job in a week is certainly impressive, but it left me wondering why. Part of me understands the logic of “it’s not sex unless there’s penetration” thinking of it, yet I couldn’t help wondering what possessed an apparently reasonably intelligent young woman to suck on the first random cock that was conveniently near her mouth? There was certainly no mention of the favour having been returned at any point, for example.

Don’t get me wrong, I love sucking on a nice juicy cock as much as the next girl (maybe more, depending who she is), but I couldn’t help thinking that the order was somehow slightly wrong. You see, in my yoof, the general turn of events went something like – snogging, groping, heavy petting/fingering, penetration, and only then oral sex.

To me, there’s an added intimacy to oral sex that would mean I probably wouldn’t dream of partaking in a one-night stand, whether behind a night club or not. (I can’t be the only one thinking SWEATY, UNWASHED cock here either, can I?). Don’t even get me started on the subject of protection…at least you can demand a condom if getting properly down and dirty (and let’s face it, I don’t know anybody who has ever used a flavoured condom during a blow job).

A straw poll of…er…my hairdresser has confiremed to me that I’m not completely alone in this thinking.

Am I missing something, or just showing my age?

Fiction – Thursday Rendezvous

The text came at 9.30, just after she had got back from the school run.

My meeting’s been cancelled. Am in the area. You around?

Her heart leapt. Yes, she texted back, Need to go out again at 2.30, so any time before then.

She let him in wordlessly, and they padded to the kitchen, where she put the kettle on and he griped about his boss. They took their tea to the living room, and sat down on the sofa, their legs entwined in a position of ease that surprised her. Over the course of the next half an hour, they slowly sank further into the cushions, until they were lying next to each other. They laughed and joked about colleagues of his and acquaintances of hers, and she ran her fingers through the short hair at the nape of his neck.

His hand on her waist, he pushed her top up slowly, stroking the curve of her waist as they finally kissed. “I can’t. Not here.”, she said, trying to resist the electricity in his touch. His breathing grew heavier and he started to unbutton her top, and her resistance was half-hearted. The low-cut bra she was wearing made it easy for him to grasp her nipples between his fingers, and she moaned as he took one in his mouth. She tried not to think about his cock straining against the material of his trousers, but the feeling of it against her leg made it impossible. As he kissed and sucked, she closed her eyes and gave in to the sensations.

Moving his hand lower, he unbuttoned her jeans and slowly slipped his hand inside her soaking knickers. She held her breath as he delved his middle finger into the wetness between her legs. The first touch made her shiver. “Lower”, she whispered, and he smiled, angling his finger into the exact position she demanded. He rubbed her clit, gently at first, then with more urgency in line with her breathing, dipping in and out of the wet juices of her entrance, parting her lips and exploring every inch.

In the end she was surprised by how quickly she came – she couldn’t recall the last time it had been this rapid, or this intense. As soon as the waves of pleasure subsided, she could feel the tears of guilt run down her face.