Writer 3 (fini)

Her lip quivered, her bottom ached, and she was in heaven. It didn’t seem to matter anymore, that the man currently using a variety of her cooking utensils to swat her bottom, was her boss.  Once more she heard him shuffling through her drawer, then shutting it, and foraging through another.

He moved silently, and she moaned audibly when he struck her. There was a loud crack as he hit her bare ass, and she whimpered, shifting.

“I didn’t tell you to move, slut.”

Her head fell forward, resting on her hands on the counter before her.

Her voice, when it came was breathy and muffled.

“Sorry Sir. That really hurt, Sir.”

He cracked her ass again.

“Good…it’s supposed to. Your ass is almost as red as your blushing tits were earlier. You color easily.”

His hand caressed her hot bottom, the circles smoothing over all the sore spots, and she moaned again. So good, it felt so good to have his hands on her. His fingers swept under the curve of her ass, and across her lower lips.

“You are so wet, little girl. So naughty. Is that little clit of yours throbbing?” He laughed as his fingers found that engorged bud of flesh, and rubbed it hard. She moaned, and gasped, shocked and awed at what he had done to her in the few minutes since he’d arrived on her doorstep.

The coffee spat and sizzled the last few drops into the pot. Reaching around her, he took up the mugs. She daren’t move; she listened to the sound of the brew filling the mug with hunger…and annoyance. She wanted coffee, but more, she wanted him to keep touching her.

She heard him sip. He was right behind her.

“Now that is as pleasant a view as I’ve ever seen, so early on a Saturday. It’s almost similar to the times when you’ve leaned across my desk to fetch things for me, and I got to imagine your ass just like this.”

She shook her head. He didn’t. He hadn’t. Had he?


“yes slut?”

“You…noticed me?”

“Every day. And I know, too, little girl, that you saw me at the club this spring. I wonder…why didn’t you approach me, instead of pretending to be invisible in the corner?”

“I …I was scared. Afraid…of how much I wanted you. And you were having fun with all those women with big…” her voice trailed off.

“I like tits. I like them in every size and shape. The pear shaped ones, and the tiny apples. The cones of nipples, the eraser nipples, and the tiny shy ones.  And it wont’ be much longer before I am introduced to yours…but from what I could see when you answered the door…they’re perfect.”

“Now, slut. You asked me something a few minutes ago. Do you remember?”

She nodded, then remembered His insistence upon saying it. She swallowed. “Sir….will you…fuck me?”

“With great pleasure.”

She heard the mug hit the counter, and the squeak of his shoe as he crossed the floor behind her…and in moments his shaft slid home into her wet and welcoming pussy. He fucked her hard, and deep, with a controlled violence that thrilled her. His hand would slap her ass, then grip into her hips hard enough that she knew she’d be marked. His cock filled her hole, as his hips crammed him deeply up into her belly. From behind, he wedged himself between her splayed legs, and plowed into her welcoming pussy. She was tight; he stretched her. She was wet…he slid into her on moist flesh. She was thrusting back at him, begging him with her body for more.

Harder, deeper, pounding her, pummeling her body with his rapid, firm strokes, he felt her muscles clench down on him, squeezing him, enticing him to jettison his load with her. He felt her wetness saturate her, felt it drip to the floor between their feet with every withdrawal, felt her groaning in the head of his cock with every deep thrust.

His balls churned, and he rose to his toes, his hands seeing her tits through her shirt, using them to propel himself further into her body. When his orgasm slashed through him, pouring his gift into her, he lay his head on her back, panting.

Her breath was ragged, her fingers clenched around the edge of the counter. After an eternity, he pulled out, pulled her up and around and fastened his mouth to hers in a searing, hot kiss. Then pushing her to her knees, he firmly advised her to clean him up.

She never enjoyed a chore more.


It was late. Saturday was drawing to a close, and Sunday was hovering on the horizon. He was sleeping, as she should be. They had spent the day talking. And fucking. And teasing. And fucking. And sucking.

She was flying with endorphins and was restless. Silently she crossed to her small desk, and woke her sleeping computer. She booted up and prepared to write her second, and last entry.


She looked over to where he lay, tousled, and so sexy, even in sleep. Pulling her keyboard close, she began to write of joy.

13 thoughts on “Writer 3 (fini)

    • Hey bunny…I’ve fixed both links now…the one that links back to the previous chapter AND the one that links to the correct blog! Sorry, and THANK YOU for letting me know the links were bad!

      I’m glad you liked the story…very glad!


  1. I think we would all agree, that there is a lot more to this story. Maybe Sir B should have you go to the wall and let you think about how much you really need to write about these two. Tip

    • TIP! The WALL???? omgoodness! You really are a Domly sadist, aren’t you? 🙂

      I’m sure we’ll revist… how’s that? But for now I need to get writing some camp stories, right?


      • 🙂

        camp stories will start to be written later today (wednesday) and Thursday…maybe even into Friday. Supposed to be hot and that always lends itself to writing.


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