“Oh, you’re a bad boy,” I uttered, seeing Russ blush instantly.

We were on our third date, and he had just ordered a rib eye and a baked potato with extra sour cream. I took the opportunity to tease him about his culinary indulgence and was surprised by his reaction.

“Look at you. You’re all red,” I pointed out playfully.

We were at a small dive bar that served cheap drinks and really great food. The place was a well-kept secret by the regulars, which we were quickly becoming.

“Am I?” He took a sip of his beer and looked away. His body language screamed two things at me: Uncomfortable. Turned on.

“You are.” I was amused. We sat in a not-so-comfortable silence — for him — while we waited for our food, which was quick to arrive.

I watched Russ cut a piece of steak and noted his hands were shaking a touch.

“Sorry. Must be the beer,” he commented apologetically.

“I don’t think so.” I leaned in close and added, “Don’t linger over your meal, Russ. We’re going back to my place.” I put just enough steel in my voice to make his slight blush turn lobster red.

I had to repress my laugh. I leisurely ate my salad as I watched him squirm and try to enjoy his steak.

Russ ended up getting a doggie bag for the meal he’d craved so much. I left my car at the bar’s lot and gave him driving directions to my house. He pulled into my driveway, parked the car and stared at me. I watched him swallow reflexively over and over again.

“What are you staring at, bad boy? Get your ass in gear. Let’s go.” I had my keys in my hand but paused to admire how his hands shook harder as he tried to unbuckle his seat belt.

At the base of the steps, I pointed toward the entrance. “Go.”

He hustled up to the top and stood to the side so I could unlock the front door.

“In,” I said, pushing it wide.

He went inside. His legs didn’t seem to know what to do: hurry from excitement or hesitate from fear. I swatted his ass and heard him moan. He rushed into the house, and I smiled. Because now I had a good idea of what I was dealing with.

I locked up and ordered, “Pants and underwear off. Lean your upper body on the couch cushions and stick your ass out. Do as I say the first time I say it, and you’ll be fine. Don’t and it’ll be much worse for you.”

I tried so hard not to smile when he stared at me wide-eyed as if he’d hit the lottery. He pulled his belt off and let his pants drop. His cock was already as hard as a divining rod and nearly as long. I bit my lip to keep my own giddiness at bay.

He dropped to his knees on the hardwood floor after he ditched his boxers. He leaned his big upper body over the couch and pushed his bare ass back. I really wanted to use his belt on his ass or even my favorite crop. But this was our first time together, and I already knew what that swat on the ass had done to him. Besides, a hand-spanking is much more personal. So I pulled up the ottoman and sat on it. I stroked my fingernail along his ass cheek and watched the magical moment as his skin pebbled into goosebumps. Then I continued down his ass crack, my touch making Russ whimper.

I was teasing him. I knew it, and he knew it. And he’d have to suck it up because I planned on teasing him a little more before giving him what he craved. What we both craved.

I smoothed my fingertips along the curve of his ass. I traced circles and figure eights. I swept my fingers back and forth, occasionally drifting them down the backs of his thighs until I saw a fine tremor start in his biceps and shoulders. He looked like he might cry.

I smiled at him, and he looked stricken, unsure of how to react. It was in that moment of confusion that I delivered the first hard blow. The crack of flesh against flesh sounded like dry wood snapping. His hips bucked, and Russ moaned again, but this time it was from way down deep. I glanced beneath him to see his excited cock bobbing.

I hummed softly to myself as I worked, slapping his beautiful butt. “I’m not going to make you count,” I said, delivering three more fast sharp blows in succession. “I’m not going to make you do something silly like that. I’m simply going to spank your ass, Russ, until it’s a color I like.”

I landed three more slaps and then let my fingertip wander along his ass crack again. His body lurched. I could see my overlapping handprints glowing on his skin, and the sight made my pussy ache. I hadn’t even noticed I’d gotten wet until I got wetter.

I dropped to my knees on the floor so I was fully behind him and he couldn’t see me. I gave the back of each thigh a good smack. Then each flank. His body jittered like he was being electrocuted. He wanted me to spank his ass until I couldn’t stand it anymore. I resisted momentarily, spanking anything but his ass. When I finally returned to his bottom, I gave him eight solid blows. His butt was a cherry red, and he was nearly humping my poor sofa.

“Do you want to come?”

His head bobbed up and down, his big manly body twitching with an attempt at self-control.

“Turn around.”

He faced me still on his knees. Then I splayed my hand against his chest and pushed him back onto the hardwood floor. I tugged off my panties and then straddled him so that the hot, smooth length of his shaft kissed my wetness and nudged my clit just right.

He grunted, and I smiled. “Every time I come down on you, that tender, red ass of yours will get ground into the floor. It’s going to hurt, you know?”

He nodded vigorously. I winked at him. “As long as you know.”

Raising myself slightly, I positioned his cock at the entrance to my pussy and then slowly sank down. Every inch elicited a groan from Russ. The more weight I put on him, the more his tender bottom had to be singing.

I started to rock my hips faster and faster, pinning his wrists to the floor with my hands so he couldn’t touch me — which he clearly wanted to do. I drove down on him over and over drawing grunts and groans with every movement.

“Do not come until I say you can,” I instructed sternly.

I moved my hips from side to side, which made him whimper. I knew it wouldn’t take me long to come, as wet as I was, as hard as he was. Small flickers of pain crossed his features only to be quickly consumed by pleasure. It was a beautiful sight.

I came with a shudder, my hair hanging down so that the tips brushed his stubbled cheeks. I rocked again, more slowly this time, watching the concentration on his face. When I increased my tempo, I whispered, “You’ve been a good boy, Russ. You may come.”

I let go of his wrists, and his hands shot up to seize my hips. He held me steady, thrusting up from beneath me desperately. It was the desperately part that got me. Because when his eyes slammed shut and he bellowed as he climaxed, I came with him.

I laughed softly and leaned down to kiss his flushed face. “Who knew that ordering a steak could be so telling?”

“Not me,” he said.

“Me neither. But now I know. And there’s a lot more to know isn’t there?”

He nodded.

I smiled. “Don’t worry. I’ll get it out of you. One way or another.”

Check out the Full Gallery