before gently taking my hands in his. With a tug, he pulled me over his lap and my heart began dancing crazily in my chest.
He put a hand on my ass and began moving it in circles. I was wearing powder blue silk sleep pants to bed, and the sensation of his fingers through the rich fabric made me arch my back, encouraging more of his caress. I turned my head at the sound of his chuckle, wondering if it had begun, just as I feared. “Honey, you’re spread out like a cat in heat,” he said, wonderingly. “How long have you been wanting me to do this?”
I blushed hotly at the question, unsure of how to answer, or if I even wanted to. Maybe all those fears had been right—maybe he really was just going to laugh at me. The thought stung so much that I felt tears come to my eyes. Before I could work up the courage to reply, I felt it: his hand came down, once, twice, on my bottom. He paused, waiting for me to react, but I couldn’t say a word. I closed my eyes against the tears, feeling the warm tingling in my cheeks.
It was only a few more seconds before he smacked me again, and again. His hand landed a little harder the next time, and a moan escaped my lips. Oliver immediately pulled me upright, into his strong arms.
“Did I hurt you?” he asked, his voice full of concern.
My insides had been boiling, turning to jelly with each firm spank, and I couldn’t find the words to answer him. Instead, I leaned forward and kissed him hard on the mouth. He returned my kiss, and when we pulled apart, we were breathless, like a couple of horny teenagers.
“More?” h e asked. The word was warm and husky with desire that mirrored my own. I nodded, and was upended over his lap as though he’d done this many times before. When the slaps started again, they were slower, almost like he was teasing me, but they packed more of a wallop.
Each one had me squirming over his lap, and though I tried to keep my lips closed, my pleasure was audible. When I felt him stop and shift his weight, I turned wide, lust-filled eyes to him. “Don’t stop,” I pleaded in a small, little-girl voice I almost didn’t recognize as my own.
“OK, then. Let’s get this thing out of the way.” Oliver slid my pants down, giving him access to my panty-clad behind. I flushed deeper when I remembered that I was wearing white granny panties. As much as I’d hoped and prayed throughout the day for this moment to come, I’d never really expected it to happen!
He began again, still taking his time, delivering slow, hard spanks to my behind. I was practically purring over his lap. To my surprise, I fe lt his hand on the waistband of my panties only seconds before he slid them down. I shivered as the cool air kissed my newly bared bottom, feeling as if I were dreaming. This time, the smacks he put on my cheeks were fast and stingy. It did unimaginable things to my body. With each impact, I felt a smarting sensation, but somehow, knowing he did this out of love or desire, or both, made it feel incredibly sexy.
I was starting to feel a bit sore when Oliver flipped me over on to my back. Without a word, he set me on the bed and leaned over me. I inhaled deeply, taking in his sandalwood cologne and the hunger in his dark eyes. For a moment, it felt like my heart stopped. God, how I wanted him!
He pounced on me, nibbling my lip, kissing it, so amorous in his need that he was rougher than usual. I responded eagerly, feeling his urgency in every possessive touch of his fingers. I tilted my head back so that he could kiss my neck. He attacked the delicate flesh immediately, with such passionate kisses that I wondered if I might get my first hickey in almost fifteen years. As he was pressing his lips to every inch of skin there, I was pulling his shirt off. As soon as he was free of it, my hands went for the zipper on his pants.
“When are you going to stop wearing jeans to bed?” I asked, my voice breathy as I giggled.
“As soon as you remember to take them