“How are you gonna do the action? You will have to kiss your hand or something.”
The sinister smile is back. My heart rate accelerates. I see where this is going. She crawls around the coffee table on all fours, prowling like a cat, but I’m no mouse. If this is the game she’s playing, tonight I’m a fucking stag, and it’s rutting season.
I let her have her moment, my cock threatening to thicken as she climbs onto my lap. Her fingers stroke the scruff on my jaw. She brings her face close, but hesitates.
My hands instinctively slide up her thighs until I reach her ass, pulling her closer so she can feel my hardening cock between her thighs.
Her lips brush mine, her tongue sliding along my seam in long teasing strokes. A smile parts my lips, and I stick my tongue out to lick hers before she swallows my lips. A hum vibrates from her mouth. The kiss full of all the pent up passion that we’ve missed. My hands glide up her shirt, my fingers clawing at her bra strap. I’ve every mind to toss the scrabble board on the fire and lay her down on this rug and fuck her, remind her where she belongs and where her home is. But for now, I keep my control and let her have the power.
She breaks the kiss with panting breaths. Her palms press against my chest as she shuffles from my lap.
“Where do you think you’re going, petal?” I nod to the board. “Eight points. That’s seven more kisses.”
Her eyes dance from the twinkling colours on the tree and something else, something hot and wanting as she takes my mouth again.
“Two down. Six more to go.”
I’m not sure how long we’ve been kissing, but each kiss between breaths is long and full of all her desires as my tongue tastes all her secrets. Her hips rock against my steel cock, the heat of the moment getting the better of her. It’s time to break the kiss.
“That’s eight. You better hope you get another K if you want a fuck.”
Her pouty lips try to kiss me again.
“Naughty girl. You’re not playing by the rules.”
“Fuck the rules. It was a stupid game.”
I chuckle. “They’re your rules, and we’re playing this game now. I’m into it.” I write her eight points on the pad. She’s winning me by a mile. I need to up my game. Luckily, I have some vowels now and play over a triple letter score, giving me eight points with ‘SLAP’.
Her eyes grow wide. She gulps.
“You’d better run, petal. That’s eight slaps you’re gonna get. You’ve been a bad girl.”
She jumps to her feet, then darts for the kitchen. I let her get ahead of me. Footsteps pound up the stairs. The floorboards creek above me in her old room.
With my cock still hard from her kisses, I adjust my jeans as I make my way up the stairs at a leisurely pace. “You’d better hide, petal. I’m coming for you.” In her room, I search behind the curtain, under the bed and in her wardrobe, but she’s not here.
A shadow floats past the door on the landing, then she’s padding back downstairs. She yelps when I reach for her at the bottom of the stairs, but she slips from my fingers and makes her way into the kitchen.
Grabbing a spatula from the worktop, she takes up her fighting position behind the oak table.
“Choosing your spanking toy, petal. Nice choice. It will fit perfectly where I plan on slapping you.”
She gasps and throws it in the sink behind her. The oak legs screech along the tiles when I push the table against the kitchen unit, preventing her from running around it and escaping me.
I have her trapped. Her heavy breaths lift her chest high as I close in on her. She makes one last attempt to escape and climb over the table, but I grip her waist from behind, holding her at the perfect angle with her ass lined up with my dick. I hold her in place, grinding my hips against the plump cheeks of her ass and let out a growl.
Her body vibrates, but it’s not fear, it’s anticipation. “How many slaps?”
“Eight.” My hands squeeze her soft round cheeks, but it’s not there I plan on slapping. “Pull your leggings down for me, petal.” I want her to show me how eager she is for my hand, and just as I thought, she’s already baring herself to me, pulling her knickers down along with her bottoms. Her palms flat against the table while she sticks her ass out further, ready for my hand.
I run my middle finger down her seam, into her slick cunt. “Always so wet.” I hold my finger up, covered in her arousal. The bright light of the kitchen highlighting just how slick she is.
“Touch me again.” Her stance widens, her hips grinding into the table, searching for any friction she can get. “Please, touch me.”
“Is your greedy pussy desperate for some attention?”
“Yes.”
