CHAPTER 9
Valerie
I sank to my knees on the plush rug, my heart hammering against my ribs. Chris moved to stand a few feet in front of me and began unbuttoning his shirt.
I couldn’t look away. Each button revealed more of his muscular chest, the defined planes of his stomach. When he shrugged the shirt off, I found myself staring at the breadth of his shoulders, the strength evident in every line of his body.
His hands moved to his belt. The buckle clinked. The leather slid free.
My breathing grew faster. I knew what was coming. Knew what I was about to see.
The button popped open. The zipper came down. Chris pushed his jeans and briefs down together, stepping out of them.
His cock jutted out from his body, fully erect. Even harder than last night, if that was possible. The head was dark and swollen, and I could see it pulsing slightly with his heartbeat.
Chris walked toward me and I tilted my head back to keep my eyes on his face, though I could see his cock in my peripheral vision, growing larger as he approached.
“Put your hands on your bottom,” he said.
“Wh-what?” I stammered. “Why?”
Chris lowered his chin, and a little whimper rose into my mouth just at the expression on his face. My lips parted, but for a moment no sound came out.
My husband waited. My eyes widened as I figured out my mistake, and a thrill of fear went through me that I might have earned myself another whipping.
“Why, sir?” I whispered.
Chris nodded, and a tiny smile played across his lips. To my horror, I felt a thrill of what I could only call submissive affection surge in my chest.
“Because I want you to,” he answered. “And that should always be enough for you, Valerie.”
I swallowed hard. A shiver went through my whole body. I reached back, my palms finding the raised welts from the switch. The position thrust my breasts forward, made me even more vulnerable.
“I also want you to remember what happened over that log earlier today,” Chris said. “Give your little butt a squeeze, to help you do that.”
Another swallow, this one even harder. I bit my lip as I obeyed, and I felt tears prick at the corners of my eyes as the soreness sent a terribly ambiguous thrill through that part of my body. “Oh, God,” I whispered.
“Open your mouth.”
I obeyed instantly this time, my lips parting automatically, as if my hands on my backside had indeed made me hyperconscious of the marital discipline my husband had bestowed in the woods. Chris stepped closer. Close enough that the head of his cock was just inches from my face. I could smell him—that dark, musky scent I remembered from last night.
“Keep it open,” he instructed. “And remember—good girls who obey get rewarded. Naughty girls who resist get punished.”
Then he guided his cock to my lips.
The head pressed against my mouth and I whimpered, but I didn’t close my lips. Didn’t pull away. Chris pushed forward slowly, and I felt the thick shaft slide past my lips, over my tongue, filling my mouth impossibly full.
“That’s it,” he murmured. “Good girl. Just hold it there for a moment. Get used to the feeling. It feels so nice to have my manhood there.”
I couldn’t breathe through my nose. Could barely think. My mouth was stretched around him, my jaw already aching from the size of him. Tears leaked from my eyes.
“I’m going to move now,” Chris said. “Keep your hands on your bottom. Don’t try to push me away.”
He began to pull back, then pushed forward again. Slowly at first, letting me adjust. The sensation was overwhelming—theweight of him on my tongue, the taste of him, the way he filled my mouth completely with each thrust.
“Use your tongue,” he instructed. “Move it against the underside of the penis.”
I tried to obey, swirling my tongue as best I could. Chris groaned, his hand coming to rest on the back of my head.
