Jason’s hand shoots out over the back of the couch and catches my arm before I can make it three steps. His eyes are shut tight, his sides expanding, releasing.
“Just this once,” he rasps.
six
Jason
You’reout of your goddamn mind.
That’s how I feel. Like the usual stalwart nature of the man I’ve aged into has completely deserted me. I’m flat out horny—and the object of my need is this eighteen-year-old college student. My daughter’s roommate.
Shea has made it clear that she wants me. That she wants aspanking.
And damn me to hell, I’ve just agreed to give her one.
“Just once,” she repeats in a whisper. “Yes, sir.”
My dick bobs hungrily in my sweatpants. I’ve had an erection since we were in my bedroom together earlier, finding her a sweatshirt. I should have stroked off when they left for the party, but there’s something about being this turned on that is making me feel…electrified. Alive. Awake for the first time in a long time. It’s a dangerous feeling, because I suspect Shea is the only one capable of giving it to me.
Do I…likebeing called sir?
Do I like meting out punishment in the form of a spanking?
I have no fucking clue.
But I love the idea of being whatthisgirl needs.
And that means I’m in trouble.
A worry for later, I’ve apparently decided, because I’m drawing her around to my side of the couch. Slowly. Our abundant size difference, along with her innocently excited expression, only makes what I’m about to do seem more sinful.
I sit down on the couch, reaching up to grasp her hips. Turn her to face me.
I draw her into the outstretched V of my thighs.
That alone causes her to breathe faster, her delicate knees to wobble slightly.
“You may take off the sweatshirt now,” I say, my mouth already dry.
This is happening.
One spanking. That’sallI’ll allow myself.
Shea catches her lush bottom lip between her teeth and curls her hands in the hem of my sweatshirt, lifting the gray material up, up, over her hips, belly, tits. Off over her head.
“Leave it on the floor,” I manage in a rumble, because there’s that tight body, shivering with need, all the telltale signs of arousal on full display. Sweet, swollen nipples pushing against the front of her tank top. Goosebumps on her arms. Hips that sway side to side, refusing to stay still. A little wet spot forming on the crotch of her sleep shorts.
Dilated pupils.
“You left my sweatshirt on the whole time, like a good girl?”
“Yes,” she wheezes. So excited to be disciplined. So in need of a man.
So in need ofme.
“Were you hot?” I ask.
“A little.”
