Jon was a good friend, if tight-lipped about particulars.Jon was a good friend, if tight-lipped about particulars. When the anger was no longer something I felt, but something I could think about, I let the thoughts about my lover fill me. What did all these games mean anyway? I came up with trust, and bonding, and finally returned to pleasure. Just the plain and simple pleasure of being exposed, being forced and the physical sensations of his strength and warmth. And that brought me back around to his pleasure, and that he had said that he would like to be topped and taken more often. So topped and taken he would be. Straddling him from behind, I grabbed him by the nap of his neck and pulled his head up. "Not another word, do you hear", I hissed between clenched teeth. "Uh, yes, Ma'am". Better, better. "Take your clothes off, but don't get up". I stayed sitting on him, and it made it difficult. I liked watching him struggle and I knew it embarrassed him not to do this smoothly. I turned around, still straddling him with my legs spread, so I could get to his ass. I started paddling him, open handed. His ass was tender, smooth and unmarked. I loved it. I thwacked him again. =========================================================== I loved her. I loved this woman. It started somewhere down in my belly and worked its way up, spreading through my chest until I thought I would explode. It worked down, too, and I often did explode. I had never felt anything like this before. My life had been well ordered, with work and children and racquetball. She had turned everything upside down, and now my emotions traveled from one end of the spectrum to the other. Sometimes a casual touch sent shivers chasing up and down my body. I didn't understand it, and she had taught me not to care about understanding. |