Covert Cravings (2 page)

She stirred.  His rock hard cock was pressed against her.  It was early; she could sense it.  Flickering her eyes open she stared at the bright red numbers:  6:32. 

Seriously?  No, way too early.
 

He pushed insistently and she wriggled away, alerting him that she wasn’t ready to wake up, and expecting his usual response – a sweet, tepid withdrawal. She waited for the departure of the hungry snake at her door but the hungry snake did not depart.  Scott’s hand clutched the side of her hip pulling her into him.  Her eyes shot open.

Whaaat?

His knob pressed inside her entrance, his grip offering no liberty.  He was pushing into her, refusing her denial.

“Scott,” she muttered.  “It’s too early.”

“Not for me,” he said, his voice husky.

Ok, weird again!

His insistence continued unabated and his hand slipped from its grip and moved between her legs, searching her out.  He tickled her, and in spite of her desire to return to her dreams, she felt the familiar warm rush.  He prodded forward, gently demanding her surrender. 

Mmmm, actually it did feel kind of good.

His hand swept from between her legs up to her breasts.

“Play with yourself,” he whispered in her ear.

Well that’s normal
.
Thank God. 

He was all the way in her now, slowly thrusting with surety and purpose.  She circled her hot little knob and sighed, closing her eyes.  It was a slow, mellow, early morning of love.  He moved gently, cupping her tits and toying with her nipples.  It reminded her of being on a boat in a kind swell.  Her fingers played in time with his rhythmic pumping, and when she came it was a warm, sudsy, comfortable release that allowed her to slip blissfully away. 

That really was quite heavenly,
and she drifted off.

The buzzer on the alarm clock shocked her.  She had been in a deep sleep.  Not the usual doze she would slip into after being woken by his leaving the bed: quietly dressing, his light kiss on her check, the sound of his feet on the stairs, and the closing of the door. 

Blinking her eyes she saw the familiar wake up time: 7:45.  She really needed it to be 7:30 but she loved that extra 15 minutes.  Rolling on her back, her eyes stared at the ceiling.  Scott was certainly being… more aggressive?  No, it wasn’t aggressive.  It was, well yes, it was aggressive.  But it was...

Dammit.  What’s his deal?

Their sex life had always been great.  The chemistry was there but she was the first to admit it had become a bit tedious.  Maybe he was just trying out something new.  After all, that’s why she started the blog to begin with: to bring a little titillation into her life.

Oh how she loved her blog. The only problem was she loved it too much. 

The whole thing began when she was having lunch with her best friend, Samantha.  Sam’s new boyfriend, Daniel, had been introducing her to some really kinky stuff.  When Sam told her that Daniel had actually pulled her across his knee and spanked her, Emily’s stomach had done a little dance.  She hadn’t felt her stomach dance in years.  After that first tantalizing story, every time they would meet up, Emily would insist on more details of Sam’s latest escapades with her licentious new lover.  Emily just couldn’t get enough.

“My butt was really stinging but it made me so damn hot,” Sam had exclaimed one afternoon.  “It’s really weird how fun it is.  Fun isn’t the right word, but it’s just – I don’t know – cool.  To have him control me like he does.  That sounds bad.  It’s not that, it’s...”

“It’s thrilling,” Emily had finished for her.  “I can tell. It’s like you’re thrilled.”

“I am! That’s it exactly. It’s thrilling!” Sam had exclaimed.

Finally, Emily reached the point where she had to know more than Sam’s stories.

One night, while Scott was engrossed in some sports show that she simply couldn’t abide, she went digging on the Internet.  What she found was gross and pornographic and she was about to give it up when she discovered a site that sold books about men sexually dominating women. 

The site wasn’t anything like the disturbing images that first graced her screen.  It was sensual and inviting, and after reading a few excerpts she decided to buy one of the books.  It was only $3.99.  What did she have to lose?  It downloaded on to her iPad and ten minutes later she was hooked.  That followed with another, and another.  She read five books in three days. 

The problem then became – what to do with her new found interest.  The fantasies haunted her.  Of course vague thoughts about being tied up had wandered through her mind throughout the years.  She did love sexy lingerie, and wore it for Scott in the early days of their relationship.  But then he lent her one of his T–shirts and that was that.

Hence: The Blog.

She had been a reporter in her college days.  Had thought about journalism as a career but it required too much work and the field was seriously competitive.  So she settled for the retail side of the fashion industry and now managed an upscale boutique.  The company was generous with their commissions and she enjoyed being the boss.  It was great for the time being. 

But, the Blog.  The Blog liberated the writer and gave Emily an outlet for her new found fantasy life; it had all worked.  Until recently... 

It wasn’t the real thing. The more she heard from Samantha, the more she read and the more she wrote, the more she wanted it herself. She wanted it so badly that it was becoming almost painful.

7:55.  She absolutely had to get up.  It was her turn to open the store.  She had to be there at 9. 

Dammit!

Hurrying out of bed, she turned on the faucets in the shower.  She’d probably be late – again!  Glancing across the double sink bathroom counter she saw Scott’s side was neat and tidy and hers an array of bottles and make up.   She should really tidy it up but she was running late – again.

Sigh

She stepped under the steaming water.  It felt wonderful.  Scott!  Scott was wonderful.  He was really sweet and he put up with all her failings.  Never being on time, making a mess, forgetting things at the grocery store, promising to make the list before going but never quite getting around to it.  She would leave her dishes in the sink.  Not dirty exactly.  Just filled with hot water. 

“I was letting them soak,” she’d retort when he would complain.

“You let a cup soak?” he’d testily reply.

I do love you, Scott...

Sitting on his surfboard, legs dangling in the cool water, Scott stared out at the horizon.  It was quite the dilemma, an intriguing and sexy one but a dilemma nonetheless.  He checked his watch and saw he had another fifteen minutes.  Unlike Emily, Scott made it a point to be on time and this morning would be no exception.  There was no swell to speak of but it was always good to get wet.  The lack of rides was a blessing in disguise.  No waves gave him time to think.  He still couldn’t quite believe it.  It had been a few days since his discovery and it was still sinking in. 

Scott was not a suspicious person.  He was easy going, didn’t sweat the small stuff and considered himself a very fortunate person. What had started as a summer job, teaching kids how to surf a decade ago, had grown into a business of his own:  a surf shop at Zuma beach in Malibu.  He had made a business out of his sport and he loved every minute of it.

Emily – aka Bunny – had entered his life thanks to one of the surfer chicks that would hang out at the shop.  She had suggested he check out the store displays at a boutique at which she shopped.  Always happy to consider new ideas, he stopped in one afternoon and ran into the happiest, prettiest, funniest, sexiest girl he’d ever met: Emily Hunter.  Emily was like one of his beach bunny groupies, with cute freckles across her nose that made her look younger than her years.  She was bright and bubbly with a Barbie Doll figure and a sweet sincerity he found absolutely endearing.  He nicknamed her Bunny because she met every criteria of the epitome of a surf bunny, but she miraculously had the brains to go with it.

Everything had been going along just fine.  They’d been living together for about a year and he was seriously considering making it permanent, but something had changed.  Over the last couple of months she had been on the computer almost every night, and if he walked up as she was typing she would become flustered, and he could see the image on the computer screen change. 

Scott didn’t think for a minute that his cutie pie was cheating on him, not even cyber cheating, but something was going on and he was determined to find out what.  Finally, he slipped out of bed in the early hours of the morning and opened up her laptop.  He had no fears of her waking up.  If there was one thing Emily could do well it was sleep.

Hitting the history tab he discovered she had been visiting Wordpress, the site that hosted his surfing blog.

Strange,
he had thought. 
Why is she going to my blog every night?

Clicking on the link, expecting to find himself on his own blog site, he was momentarily confused, then totally shocked to find himself staring at a log-in screen for

Bunny’s Blog! 

And the silly girl had checked the ‘Remember Me’ box!

So like her,
he had thought. 
No protection from prying eyes,
including mine!

The home page opened up and he saw she had posted 27 blogs in the last three months.  Why hadn’t she told him about this?  Expecting essays on fashion or her gossip about her friends or the boutique – or something equally innocuous – he could not believe his eyes when he read the title of the first post.

Why My Boyfriend Spanks Me.

The blog talked about how she was always late, and having run out of patience her boyfriend, a surfing hunk named Simon, grew tired of it one day and put her across his lap.

I’d like to do just that right now, Missy,
he’d thought when he finished reading it.  At least she had the decency to change his name.

He proceeded to read all 27 posts.  With each post her writing and descriptive narrative became almost poetic, lyrical in fact, describing scenes in delicious detail.

The feel of the warm wood paddle is almost comforting.  A soothing,
sweetness against my skin.  I know it will soon fall with the sting of a hundred bees and I will whimper at the hot joy.

He wasn’t a choirboy and certainly knew about the world of BDSM.  Who didn’t?    But it wasn’t something he’d actually experienced.  Sure he’d hold down her wrists from time to time.  But spanking, bondage, blindfolds, not really his cup of tea...

...but with each post he read he found himself drawn into her fantasies, his cock stirring of its own accord.  Her words seduced him and by the time he reached the last blog he was completely enthralled. 

But he was puzzled and concerned.  Who was this Emily?  For how long had she felt this way?  Was this something she really wanted or was it just a passing phase? 

The final lines of her latest post had wrapped around him and were haunting him still –

Do I lack self-discipline in certain areas?

Absolutely. 

Do I love having someone to whom I must answer?
 

Absolutely.
 

Does he sometimes spank me hard just to remind me that he will?
 

Absolutely.

Do I Love This?

Absolutely!

What was he to do?  He couldn’t just walk in the door one day and throw her across his knee and start slapping her butt, though just the thought caused an instant response.  His cock was almost standing at attention and he attempted to will it away, unsuccessfully.  He stared out at the horizon and saw a fresh set of small waves heading towards him. 

He’d dunked his toe in the figurative waters of her hidden fantasy life last night, fucking her hard for the first time in their relationship, and again this morning, insisting that she open her door when he came knocking.  The temperature was darn near perfect.  Turning his board to face the shore he looked over his shoulder and started paddling. 

One step at a time, he told himself, as the first wave picked him up and carried him gently forward.  Enjoying the short, easy ride, he reached the sand and stood up, grabbed his board from the water and hurried away.  In spite of the soothing trip in and his best attempts to refuse its rise, he still had a raging woody.  He dashed across Pacific Coast Highway and darted around the back of the small complex that housed his shop, pulled the keys from their hiding place and opened the back entrance.  He had a small bathroom where he would shower and change.  During the summer, this was his morning procedure.  In the winter, he would swim at the gym. 

Peeling off his wetsuit he hung it on a hanger and hooked it to the back of the door.  Despite his early interlude with Emily, he was bursting.  Stepping under the shower he turned on the faucets, favoring the water on the cool side, and let the stream splash over him.  He grabbed the soap and lathered himself, leaning against the white tiled wall. 

He could see her – stretched across his lap – her skirt up and her panties down, the black lace pair with the French cut.  He loved how she looked in those.  He’d never spanked anyone but he could easily imagine how her skin would turn pink as he smacked her.  Would she wriggle?  He was stroking himself ferociously imagining her squirm as his hand fell repeatedly on her perfectly round ass. 

His bubble was looming and he suddenly thought how incredible it would be to have his naked cock rubbing against her belly as she writhed under his slapping hand.

Oh, Bunny, if anyone deserves a spanking...! You love having someone to answer to?  Let’s find out, shall we?

The dam broke, his hot juice squirting forth, mingling with the splashing shower as it dribbled down his hand.  He opened his eyes, not even recalling when he had closed them.

As he finished washing and toweling off, he knew the first thing he had to do was learn all he could.  From the blogs it was evident Emily had done quite a bit of research.   She was a step or two ahead of him.  He couldn’t have that.  He needed to sprint, catch up to her and take the lead.