“What do you have in mind?” I ask, grinning.
He claims my lips in a tender kiss, soft and gentle. My eyes close and I breathe in the scent of him, feel the scrape of his stubbled chin against mine. He wraps his hands around my waist and holds me close, his tongue sweeping against mine. He tastes of cinnamon and a hint of sugar, like he was munching on mints while he worked. He’s delicious and fiery, his kisses hot, and his hands on my hips tugging me close.
“You want me, baby?” he asks, his voice rough against my lips. He lowers his mouth to my neck and leaves scorching kisses from my jawline to my throat.
“God, yes.” I lean into his hold, his already-hard cock pressing against the zipper of his jeans.
I move toward the door, but he takes my hand and shakes his head. “I want you here,” he says.
“Here?” I echo. “In the garage?”
“I’ve been dreaming of bending you over my weight bench all day,” he growls.
I’m more than willing. I’m so ready for whatever he has in mind. “How are we doing this? Am in your lap, am I…”
He holds up a finger. “You trust me, babe?”
I cock my chin, wondering exactly what he wants to do with me. To me. The uncertainty brings an immediate throb between my legs, and I’m already feeling myself grow wet with arousal. “Of course I trust you,” I say. “Tell me where to throw my clothes.”
He laughs and takes a seat on the workbench with his knees spread wide. “I’ll tell you exactly what I want,” he says. “Anything you don’t like…”
“I’ll tell you,” I promise, licking my lips in anticipation. I tighten my legs, needing to rub my thighs together to ease the ache mounting in my core.
He leans back and just watches me. “Strip.”
I immediately toe off my boots. As I wriggle out of my pants, I try to be sexy about it, but I end up shaking my bum and almost tripping onto the cushiony mat under my feet. “A little less stage-dive and a little more stripper,” I mutter to myself.
He laughs, but he grows quiet as I shove my panties down and toss them away. I’m wearing a thick sweater with a puffer coat over it, which must look hilarious, but he’s staring at me like I look good enough to eat. I stand there, bare from the waist down and dressed like a snowman on top.
“All of it,” he says, lifting his chin.
I unzip my jacket and shrug out of it before taking off my top and my bra.
“Touch yourself. I want to watch you play with your nipple. Just one.”
I do as he says.
I stare at him, swallowing hard as I twist the tip gently between my fingers. “Oh…” A little moan escapes me. When I touch my own breasts, it never feels as good as when he does it. But with him watching me, his hands on his thighs, his lips parted, I’ve never felt more wanton. My own touch brings me pleasure, and I try to give in to it, squeezing my nipple a little harder, twisting it a little farther.
He wiggles his fingers. “Come here. I want your ass in my face,” he says.
I walk toward him, and when I reach the workout bench, I turn around again and face the garage door. My butt is facing him and is almost level with his face.
“Perfect,” he whispers. “Now, spread your legs apart and touch your clit. I’m going to watch.”
With my bottom facing him, I reach between my legs and slip two fingers through my trimmed hair. I’m already ridiculously wet, so I slide some moisture from my pussy and trace light circles over my clit.
My legs feel a little weak, and I don’t know how long I can touch myself like this standing up.
“Did you like being spanked?” he asks.
“Yes.” I lick my lips, loving the way it felt.
“Do I have your permission to do it again?”
I nod, not answering with words because I don’t trust my voice. I want it. I want him. I want everything.
I swallow hard and cup my pussy. I feel his warm, rough palm stroke my backside, and then his hand is gone, only to return in a quick, firm slap.
