Covert Cravings (8 page)

He stared at her bright red rump.  It was a delicious sight.  Her pussy was peeking through her thighs, a soft wet pink.  Taking his thumbs he spread her apart and put himself in position.

“Ok baby, I’m going to really fuck you now.  That’s what you want, right?”

“Oh yes.  Yes.  Please.  I’ve missed your cock,” she cried.

“Just remember, the next time you feel like rolling away from me in the morning, or some other time you don’t feel like it, you’ll go without for a week.  Got it?”

“Yes.  Yes.  I’ve got it.  Please, please put your cock in me,” she begged.

The tables had turned.  She realized, lying there, desperate for his hot hard rod, how he must have felt when she denied him so often, but no sooner had the thought entered her head that he plunged forward.

“
Oooooh, Scott ––!!”

He fucked her hard and fast clutching her hips strongly, his fingers digging into her flesh, then slowed, slithering into her depths with long, powerful deliberate thrusts.

“Hmmmm – your pussy feels extra good,” he murmured.  “I think that spanking must have warmed it up for me.  Perhaps I should give you a good spanking more often.”

She wriggled at him, or rather her bottom did of its own volition.

“Is that a yes?” he asked, lifting a hand from her hip and smacking each cheek with a good hard slap.  Her pussy twitched before she could respond.  “I think I have my answer,” he grinned, and his piston went back to work accompanied by his spanking hand.

“
Ooooh, Scott,” she cried.  “I’m –––”

“Oh yeah, let it go, baby,“ he said, feeling his own wave building to its crest.

“Smack me harder,” she wailed, and he let fly with his palm, smacking her with sharp quick slaps. 

She shrieked as she fell over the cliff, her thighs trying to close, but his feet on the inside of her legs refusing their union.  Throwing back her head she let out a low, deep yowl, and he could feel her pussy walls constrict around him.  It was all he needed.  As her orgasm began to subside, he stopped spanking and grabbed her hips surging forward, and let out a heavy groan of his own as he felt his hot cream stream into her. 

* * *

After they had showered together, and Scott had inspected her pretty punished derriere, she dressed quickly and ran downstairs to pull their dinner from the oven and set it out on the table.  Scott took his time, and after shampooing his hair, drying off and pulling on his sweats, he sat on the edge of the bed for a moment and pondered all that had happened. 

Tonight had been a turning point.  He had actually spanked her and she had called him sir.  Her blog had put him in touch with a side of himself that had been nothing more than a shadowy feeling.  The occasional urge to tie someone up – a college girlfriend who had asked him to spank her during sex and he had thoroughly enjoyed it.  Now he was a whole different animal and he liked it.  No, he loved it.

But the biggest step was yet to be taken.  She had to tell him about the blog.  She had to find the strength to trust him, to confess her sins.  Then he would spank her   for her deception, and not just spank her, but with the hairbrush she’d been craving, and he would tell her as he spanked her that he had read all her entries and she was about to experience each and every one of them.

It would be a special night to be sure, but there was no predicting when that night would come.  All he could do was plant the seeds and wait for them to sprout. 

Chapter Twelve

Emily felt delightfully tender as she sat at the desk in the back office of the boutique.  For reasons she couldn’t quite fathom she had no desire to share what had happened with Sam.  It was special and private, but it was more than that.  She felt if she told Sam it would somehow be a betrayal. 

She had brought Suzanne the new CD and a $25 Starbucks Gift Card, tucked into a large funny card.  She always did something in return for Suzanne’s favors, but it usually took a few days.  It had been less than 24 hours this time.

It was interesting how she was feeling.  After Scott had made love to her in the morning – a languid, easy, deliciously sensuous love – she didn’t want to go back to sleep.  She was up and about with him and they even shared a cup of coffee before he jumped in his truck and sped off for the surf.  For the (yet another) first time, she actually had a leisurely morning.  There was no scrambling to take a shower and dressing hurriedly to be on time.  She washed the cups and her cereal bowl and actually enjoyed doing so.  All with a red, tender bottom.  It was simply heaven.

But there was still a huge cloud over her head.  The Blog. 

Dammit,
she sighed, dropping her head in her hands.  I have to tell him.  I absolutely have to tell him.  
He’ll love it – assuming he doesn’t know about it already and all this amazing stuff is simply because he’s read it and he digs it.  And even if he hasn’t read it he’ll still love it.  What he won’t love is that I’ve kept it from him.  Dammit. 

“Emily?”  Suzanne’s voice interrupted her desperate thoughts.  “Are you ok?”

Emily lifted her head and stared at her. 

“Yes, I’m fantastic.  And no – I’m a mess,” she moaned.  “A total mess.”

In the years Suzanne had worked with Emily she’d never known her to be depressed or sad for very long.  Emily was one of the bubbliest, most positive people she’d ever met.  She could get frantic and a little crazy sometimes, but not depressed or sad – and she couldn’t recall her ever using the word ‘mess’.

“Do you want to talk about it?” Suzanne asked, genuinely concerned.  “I mean – I don’t want to pry or anything.”

“Sure, maybe – I mean – I don’t think there’s anything I can do.  It’s kind of a black and white thing,” Emily replied. 

Suzanne was such a
levelheaded girl, Emily thought it would feel good to actually talk to her.  They kept their personal lives out of the shop – a mutual decision they’d made early on – and it worked.  But right now Emily wanted Suzanne’s voice of reason. 

“Maybe we should sit out front in case some customer’s come in,” Suzanne suggested, stating the obvious.

“Oh my gosh.  Of course,” Emily replied feeling foolish. 

They walked into the boutique and sat on the tall stools behind the counter.  Emily smiled as her bottom hit the seat.  She was still a little tender.  It was late in the afternoon and the store was quiet.

“So…?” Suzanne pressed gently.

“So – it’s really very simple.  A simple mess, how’s that for an oxymoron,” she said, smiling ruefully.  “Anyway, I’ve been keeping something from Scott, something really big.  I can’t handle it anymore and I have to tell him.  I just don’t know how.”

“Hmmm,” Suzanne said, lifting her eyes to the ceiling, which was her habit when she was thinking.  “The first thing I would tell you is, that the sooner you tell him the better off you’ll be.  That’s just a general rule.”

“This is true,” Emily agreed.

“The second thing I would tell you is, when you do tell him, don’t do a lot of preamble.  Just spit it out.  I think most men are impatient and just want the bottom line.”

Jeez.  Talk about a choice of words,
Emily thought.

“That sounds like good advice,” she sighed.

“The third thing I would tell you is, if he reacts badly – gets mad or whatever, stay calm.  If you get defensive and yell back, you’ll just get in a big fight.  Just let him vent and keep apologizing really calmly and it’ll be ok.”

Emily stared at her.

“Damn girl.  You’re good.  Where did you learn all this stuff?”

“I am?  You think?” Suzanne asked, genuinely surprised at Emily’s reaction.

“Yeah!  I definitely do think so!” Emily declared.

“Oh, I don’t know.  Just kind of makes sense,” she said, modestly.

“Wow.  Well you’re amazing.  Anything else?”

“Sure.  The most important thing of all, remember you love each other – I’ve never seen two people who fit together better than you two.  So, it’ll be ok.  Trust him,” Suzanne finished.

“You have no idea how much you just helped me.  Thank you.  You are the absolute best!” Emily exclaimed, and reached over and hugged her.

She decided to tell Scott everything that very night.  She’d be
straightforward, apologetic, and remain totally calm no matter what.  Feeling better than she had in a long time she wandered over to a display that had been bothering her and went to work.

At the Surf Shop Scott was busy helping a teenage boy pick out a surfboard.  It was difficult to concentrate.  He wondered if he was making a mistake, not confronting Emily about the blog. 

“What’s the difference between these two?” he heard the boy say.  “They look almost the same but this one’s $55 more.”

“This board is a little more stable.  It’s thicker – see?” Scott replied.  “The less expensive one is faster and you can do more tricks on it.  But it’s harder to handle.”

But if he confronted her and she wasn’t ready to talk about it, pushing the issue might do more harm than good.

“So, maybe I should buy the more expensive one,” he heard the boy reply.  “It’s better to take things slow right?  I mean – if I push the envelope I could get hurt.  My girlfriend says I should go with the flow more.  You know what I mean?”

Scott turned his head and looked at him. 

“What did you just say?”

“Huh? Oh.  My girlfriend says I should go with the flow more,” the boy repeated.   “Not stress so much and let things happen, then deal with them when things come up.  She says I worry too much.”

Throughout his life Scott had been admired for his ability to relax and take things in stride.  And yet here was a 15-year-old boy reminding him to do just that.

“What’s your name?” Scott asked.

“Dillon,” the boy replied.

“Dillon, how did you get the money to buy this board?” he asked.

“Oh, I work as a bus boy at night and on the weekends.  Been saving forever,” he said. 

“Ok, Dillon.  I’m giving you a 25% discount on this board,” Scott said, smiling broadly.

“What?  Wow.  Cool dude,” Dillon exclaimed, absolutely ecstatic. “How come?”

“Because you – well – hmmm.  Let’s just say you reminded me of something very important,” Scott answered, pulling the board from the rack. “And anyone who works that hard to get what they want deserves a break,” he finished.

Dillon, thrilled with his good fortune, followed Scott over to the counter and pulled out his ragged, cloth wallet.

“With some of the money you just saved, do yourself a favor and buy yourself a decent wallet,” Scott suggested. 

“My girl keeps telling me that as well,” the boy laughed, handing him the cash.

“You know, Dillon.  I think you’ve got great taste in women,” Scott chuckled.  “I’d start listening to her.”

“Ok man.  I will,” Dillon replied, and taking his change and the board, jauntily walked out of the store.

Scott shook his head. 

When did I start second guessing myself?
he asked himself.
It’s new territory dude.  Day at a time.

Emily showered and changed as soon as she walked in the door.  In spite of her resolve to tell Scott everything, and in spite of her belief that he’d be fabulous about it all, and in spite of all the positive things she told herself throughout the afternoon and all the way home, she was jittery as the proverbial Cat on a Hot Tin Roof.

She pulled a negligee she’d bought when they first started dating.  It was one of his favorites and she could see why.  It was made of black, barely transparent chiffon and fell mid-thigh.  The intricate red embroidery gently wrapped around her breasts like loose tendrils floating across the flimsy fabric. The matching panties had red ruffles around the legs and waist, and a sexy red ‘V’ embroidered down the back, the point of which ended between her legs.

After donning the outfit she applied fresh make-up and brushed her hair so it fell softly around her shoulders.  When she heard his truck her heart skipped a beat.  The door downstairs opened and closed and swallowed hard.

“Hey Bunny?” he called. 

“I’m up here,” she called back, her heart jumping into her throat.

She heard him trotting up the stairs, and as he walked through the door she took a long deep breath in a vain attempt to control her jangled nerves.

“Whoa!  Look at you!” he exclaimed.  “I haven’t seen you in that in – wow – a long time.  It’s even sexier than I remember.”

He crossed his arms and leaned against the dresser.  Emily couldn’t stand it.  He looked so damn hot when he stood that way.

“I – uh – I’m glad you still like it,” she stammered.

“Like it? Are you kidding?  I love it,” he declared, studying her.  The expression on her face didn’t match what she was wearing and her bubbly voice was oddly quiet.  “Is there a special reason for this treat or are you just in a really hot mood?” he asked, watching her carefully.

“Um – well – kind of,” she said hesitatingly. 

Dammit.  I should have just worn my normal clothes.  What was I thinking?

“Maybe I should get changed,” she mumbled, feeling totally uncomfortable.

“What?  No!  Don’t you dare,” he said firmly.  “You look fantastic.”

She looked at the bed, then the chair by the fireplace. 

“Are you trying to decide where to sit or where we’re going to have sex?” he joked.

“Um.  Actually, I have something to tell you.”  Staring at the floor she began pacing, “and I changed into this outfit because I thought it would help but it was a stupid idea and I should have just kept my normal clothes on because now it’s all kind of weird, and I know I’m rambling and I promised myself I wouldn’t but I can’t help it because I’m totally freaking out even though I promised myself I wouldn’t freak out and –– and ––” she stopped abruptly and looked up at him.  He had an odd expression that she couldn’t make out.  Was he amused?  Puzzled? 

  “Scott, I don’t know how to tell you this,” she continued, giving up on trying to analyze his stare, “so I’m just going to tell you – and don’t interrupt, ok?  Just let me tell you!”

“Okay,” he said softly, knowing exactly where this was going.  His heart began to beat a little faster.  He wanted to help her but knew the best way to do that was to remain quiet and let her confess her sins as she needed to.

“Ok, Scott, it’s like this. I – um – well,” 

Don’t preamble.  Don’t preamble.  Just say it – Say It – SAY IT.

“I’ve been writing a blog,” she shouted, not meaning to. 

“Sorry.  Didn’t mean to yell,” she apologized.  “A secret blog,” she continued in a more normal tone of voice.  “That’s what I was doing all those nights I said I was shopping online.  And it’s not an ordinary blog.  What I mean is, it’s not ordinary like, talking about my friends, or the boutique, or anything like that.  It’s a blog about – Oh God – it’s a blog about… about…” 

SAY IT – GO ON – TELL HIM!

“Sex.  Not really sex. A kind of sex.  Sex like we’ve been having lately. Kinky sex.  Sex like – you know – bondage and stuff.  And I started it because of Sam, she…”

“Wait!” Scott interrupted.  “Sam?  What does Sam have to do with any of this?”

“Huh?” she asked, glancing at him again. 

He didn’t look mad at all.  He just looked kind of – interested. 

“Sam is in a relationship with this guy who does all kinds of kinky stuff,” she continued, feeling more confident. “She told me about it and I was really – um – it just sounded so great so I started reading about it online and the blog just kind of, sort of, happened,” she said, then suddenly plopped down on the chair.  “And that’s it, and I’m really, really sorry I didn’t tell you earlier.  I didn’t know how.  I should have trusted you.  Just trusted you.  I’ve been lying to you for months and I feel terrible about it,” she finished, dropping her head in her hands and then she began to cry.

Scott let out a big sigh and walked over to her.

“Hey Bunny.  It’s ok.  And I mean, it’s really ok,” he said, gently, stroking her hair. 

“Come on.  Come with me,” he continued, and reaching down he took her hand and lead her to their bed.

“Lay down here, you luscious thing,” he said tenderly, pulling her into his chest. 

“I want you to listen to me.”

“You’re not angry?” she asked, disbelieving.

“Mad?  No.  I’m not angry.  Well, kind of but not really.  For some reason you didn’t feel you could trust me, which makes me sad, not angry,” he continued, giving her a squeeze.

“But you’re not even surprised!”

“Because I’ve known about it for a few days,” he admitted.

“You what?!” she cried, jumping up and punching him in the chest.

“Stop!  Yes,” he replied, grabbing her wrist.  “But it was up to you to tell me yourself,” he said firmly.  “Don’t you get that?”  His tone of voice stopped her in her tracks and she dropped her eyes.  “You’ve been carrying on with this deception for months.  Think about it.”

“Yes.  I get it,” she sighed.

“Now it’s your turn not to interrupt.  First, I am very, very happy that you opened the door to all this great D/s stuff.  I think it’s pretty obvious that I’m totally into it and let’s be honest, you’re just as buzzed as I am.  Maybe even more.  You created the opportunity for me to explore this side of my nature, and Bunny, thanks to you I’ve learned it’s who I am.  It’s a gift for both of us.”

“Really?  You really feel that way?” she asked, staring at him.

“Of course.  I wouldn’t say it if I didn’t feel it.  But that doesn’t mean that I’m not going to punish you, and I do mean punish you,” he said sternly, “for lying to me – especially about something so important.”

Emily felt the blush creep up her face and a very large whirling dervish replaced the tiny gymnasts and began to spin wildly in her stomach.

“Our life together is changing.  Has changed.  Everything you have written about is going to happen,” he paused, letting her comprehend and process what he was saying.  “From this moment forward we are in a D/s relationship.  Can you – do you – accept that?”

“Oh yes, Scotty.  Yes, yes, yes, yes!” she cried, throwing her arms around him, planting kisses all over his face.  “I love you, I love you!”

“Ok – well, I guess we’re on the same page then.”  Scott chuckled. “But you understand what that means.  What that really means,” he warned, becoming serious.

“I think so,” she replied, pulling back, all smiles.

“Just to be clear.  I’m in charge,” he said, holding her upper arms tightly, fixing her with his gaze.   “I expect you to do as you’re told.  If you don’t listen, you will get punished.  You’ll be walking around with a sore backside much of the time, not just because I know you and I know you’ll be deserving, but because I find it immensely pleasurable to spank you.”

“Scott,” Emily sighed, unexpectedly feeling a wave of emotion, “you have no idea how happy I am right now.  I want nothing more.  Nothing!”

It was contagious.  Scott swallowed hard.  Rarely did he feel overcome, but looking at the adorable freckles sprinkled across the bridge of her nose, her sparkling eyes brimming with her submissive tears, her unbridled love and acceptance filling his heart, he honestly thought it would burst.  With a quick easy motion he flipped her over on to her back.

“I love you, Emily Parker,” he whispered, and lowered his lips on to hers.  His tongue darted in her mouth and he felt his cock swell.  He pressed his mouth against hers and pushed his hardness against her belly. 

The kiss was wet and long and devouring.

“Close your eyes, baby, and keep them closed,” he ordered, and jumping off her lithesome body he quickly undressed, then moved to her closet to find a scarf. Moments later she was blindfolded, moaning with her pent up need.

Running his hands across the soft silkiness of the negligee, he pinched and squeezed her breasts and nipples, following the red arms of the embroidery winding its way around them.  She was moaning and wriggling to his touch – the fabric adding a sweet sensation to his attention.  Slowly, he pulled the hem up and over her body, resting it over her face, exposing her exquisite nakedness below.  Each nipple was sucked and tongued languidly, as though he had the rest of his life to find his way to the rest of her.

“Scott – Scott – that’s amazing,” she groaned.  “Please touch my pussy.  Please, please, please.”

“Not yet, baby,” he crooned.  “You have to really be begging, and then I’ll fuck your brains out.”

“
Oooohhh, but I am begging.  Seriously begging.  Please?” she pleaded.

Sliding his mouth down her body, kissing and licking as he moved, he found his way between her legs and focused on her inner thighs.  He felt her shudder as he traced his nails across her tender skin, then allowed his tongue to follow the red, thin lines.  He reached his hands under her ass, clutching her cheeks, salaciously squeezing, eliciting a loud groan.

“Oh God, Scott, I can’t stand it.  Please ––” she begged. 

Ignoring her pleas he continued sucking and licking her milky white skin, and she lifted her hips, allowing his hands to knead her cheeks.  She gyrated and tried to move herself so his tongue would slip against her sex, but his grip on her backside was strong and he was holding
her firmly, keeping her just as he wished.  He continued the torment for several minutes, until she was banging her closed fists on the bed.

“Remind me to tie you up next time,” he said, lifting his head.  “Such a little tantrum thrower you are.”

“Oh, Scotty, I just want you so bad,” she whimpered.

“I think I believe you,” he replied.  “Let’s check shall we?  Roll over and up on your knees.  But on your elbows not your hands!”

She groaned in hopeful relief and quickly positioned herself as instructed.  She felt sexy as hell, her bottom so high in the air.  Hands and knees was one thing – common even – they did that all the time.  But this?  This was another first.

He landed some quick sharp slaps, then slithered his fingers under the elastic waistband of her panties and slid them down, letting them rest mid thigh.

“Oh, baby, this is a gorgeous sight,” he smiled, slipping his finger where she had so desperately been wanting him.

“
Oooohhhh, Scotty,” she moaned.  “Please fuck me,” she pleaded.

“You’re deliciously wet,” he said, slithering two fingers deep in her crevice.  “So yes, I think you really do want me.”

Gripping her hips he punched into her and began pumping with slow, measured, powerful strokes.

“
Ooooh, Scotty.  That’s amazing,” she cried.  “You feel so  – oh my God...”

He kept his pace slow and strong until she began wiggling, asking for more.

“You wanna be fucked faster, little girl?!” he growled.

“Yes, sir,” she mewed.  “I do!”

He pumped forward with strong, surging strokes and she rose up on her hands to better move against him.  He was pummeling her, and out of habit she brought her hand between her legs, but she could feel that same overwhelming wave she’d experienced the night she had climaxed without her busy fingers.  The night he rode her to the brink!

She dropped her hand away and focused on the deep, robust thrusts.  The balloon that had been hovering grew thick, just as it had before.  It was ready, so ready, and she buried her head in the pillow.  It was coming, she could feel it, and suddenly it happened. A huge orgasmic tsunami washed over her. 

Her muffled screams propelled him forward and he detonated, his stream of hot cream filling her depths and when their violent eruptions finally abated, they collapsed next to each other, sweating, spent and exhausted.

“Oh my gosh,” Bunny breathed, the first to speak.  “That was unbelievable.”

She was still panting and Scott raised himself up on his elbow.

“You said you want me to fuck you,” he said, panting.  “Like the other night. Remember?”

“I remember.  It’s so incredible, this change in you.  I mean, you’ve always been so…”

“Gentle?” he interrupted.

“Yes.  Gentle and kind of – almost –”

“I still can be.  I gave you what seemed to make you happy – what satisfied you,” he said, then paused, catching his breath. “Emily,” he continued, “unless you tell me what you want, how do I know?  You always seemed very responsive to my slow, gentle lovemaking,” he said, leaning over and kissing a breast.