Pushing my mug of tea aside hastily, he climbed up on the counter and laid his body on mine. With his jeans still around his knees and his shirt still hanging over his body, he crawled between my knees, slipping deeper inside as he held his weight over me with his arms. His hips thrust downward, burrowing for his climax. I reached under his shirt and hastily explored the planes of his chiseled chest. Digging my fingernails into his skin, I clawed him hungrily, urging him to fulfill his desires. Pumping vigorously between my thighs, his deep moans signaled his release.
He fell into me with all of his weight and my body buckled under him. Pressed against the countertop, I finally breathed in exhaustion. My thighs throbbed as the last of his strength pulsated down his shaft inside me. He climbed off of me quickly, pulling up his jeans and buckling his belt. I still laid nude on the counter, my legs spread wide open. Tucking in his shirt, he reminded me, “Don’t tell your sister about this.” He picked my towel up off the floor and flung it in my direction.
“I won’t,” I assured him, covering my bare body, feeling vulnerable again.
“Not a word,” he repeated, holding his finger up to his lips as he backed out of the front door, grabbing his hat and slipping out of the bunkhouse, disappearing into the night.
The next morning, I awoke to my kid sister screaming as she ran across the lawn and banged on my door.
“Kendall!” she yelled. “Kendall, wake up!”
I slipped an oversized t-shirt over my head and climbed down to the kitchen, walking past the mug full of tea still sitting on the counter. I opened the door to find my little sister waiting for me with a huge smile across her face.
“Kendall, you missed it! You missed it! Get dressed and come to breakfast, Andrew has just proposed to Carly!”
His Rules By Carmen Cox
“Christa. My office. Now,” Mr. Hammond insisted sternly.
“But I didn’t do anything,” she argued.
“Now,” Mr. Hammond ordered, tapping his ruler across his palm.
Christa knew he meant business…again. The sound of his ruler slapping his hand brought back memories of the last time she was in trouble. Mr. Hammond had accused her of cheating on a test before. While the other students finished their essays, Mr. Hammond’s dished out his own sentence. Only Mr. Hammond’s idea of punishment included bending her over his desk and paddling her.
Christa felt a warm tingle under her pleated skirt as she stood up and walked past the other students in her row. Something told her she was in for another spanking, and just thinking about it made her skin quiver. It wasn’t fair that Mr. Hammond always picked on her. She hadn’t even cheated this time. If fact, she wasn’t even sure what she had been called out for yet. She was certain about one thing though. He was going to use that ruler again.
As she made her way to the front of the class, Christa gazed at her teacher. His stern frown lifted as he glared at her with those deep green eyes and tapped the ruler on his hand again. The sound of the wooden stick slapping his bare skin was an indication of punishment, but little did he know, Christa hadn’t been scared straight by his last lashing. In fact, the tingle shooting through her luscious, curvy ass cheeks was her body’s reaction to how much it turned her on.
Mr. Hammond, a heavenly handsome tall drink of water, nodded toward the door and told the class to continue with the lesson. He took Christa by the arm and led her down the hall to his office, swinging his ruler alongside her. Christa walked in first. He closed the door behind them and pulled down the shade.
“You’ve been a bad girl again, Christa,” he whispered as he locked the door.
“But I didn’t- “ she started to say again, but Mr. Hammond moved close and pressed his finger on her mouth.
“Shhh,” he insisted. His forefinger brushed along the planes of her plump pink pout-a little too slowly — as he sighed. “Now, you must be punished for cheating, young lady.”
Submitting to his power, Christa just nodded and whispered, “Yes, sir.”
“Cheating is wrong,” he told her. “Maybe you should try studying, instead of running around with all of those college boys I see you with.”
Christa never knew that Mr. Hammond paid attention to her extracurricular life. Her smile hitched under his touch. He was a dirty man after all.
“What do those boys have to offer you?” he asked. “They’re young, dumb and full of cum. You need a man in your life.”
“Yes, sir,” she whispered under the weight of his finger, arching her brow and hoping he would be the man to show her what that meant.
Mr. Hammond’s finger grazed her tender lips, pulling her bottom lip down as it glided down her neck, slowly tracing the lines of her clavicle. His deep eyes made their way down Christa’s body, stopping briefly at her supple breasts. He watched them rise and fall as she took a deep breath. Following his gaze, his touch arrived at her left nipple, slowly circling around the swelling tip under her blouse. Her right nipple echoed her arousal.
“Ah,” he sighed. “Good girl. Now why don’t you walk over there and assume the position.” Mr. Hammond nodded toward his big oak desk. It was big and solid, like him. “I will try to take it easy on you today, but I can’t promise anything.”
“Yes, sir. Forgive me,” Christa repeated. She knew the position. She knew the punishment. And somewhere deep inside, she knew that her teacher’s lashings were more corrupt than anything she had been spanked with for so far. He must really enjoy punishing her.
Christa pulled away and walked over to his desk. Bending forward, she leaned over it and pulled her big tits from her blouse. She pinched her nipples between her thumbs and forefingers, closed her eyes and waited. Mr. Hammond wasted no time. He approached her from behind and smacked the ruler against her skirt.
“I’ve been so bad,” Christa moaned.
Ah,” Her master interjected. “Not yet, girl. That was just a warm up.”
Christa had faked the flinch anyway. She knew that Mr. Hammond required her to lift her skirt so that he could see her panties. Last week, he had delivered an extra ten smacks for wearing the wrong color. She thought she might get another ten for soaking herself too soon this time. Something about Mr. Hammond’s lashings just hurt so good, igniting her deepest sexual desires.
“Lift that skirt,” he demanded. “Let’s see what you’ve got under there this week.”
Mr. Hammond lifted the hem of Christa’s skirt with the edge of his ruler. Guiding it up over the small of her back to expose her round, voluptuous ass, he discovered that she had learned last week’s lesson. She was wearing white panties.
“Mmmm,” he moaned under his breath, “you have learned well.”
“Thank you, sir.”
Christa braced herself, clinching her tits as he delivered the first blow. His ruler slapped her tender skin, sending waves across her big ass.
“Oh God,” Christa mumbled, savoring the sting. “Yes, sir.”
Before she could even finish her words, Mr. Hammond spanked her again. This time, even harder.
“Yes,” Christa squealed louder.
“Yes, what?” he commanded her from behind.
“Mr. Hammond.” She squeezed her nipples, balancing the pain between her ass and tits.
The sensation of Mr. Hammond’s lashing sent chills across her skin to the depths of her fat little pussy. Her cunt was warm and moist, her ripe peach mounds sticking together. Christa wiggled her hips to open her slit as she soaked her big white panties.