Big Trouble

Miranda is, Juan reflects pleasurably, a quite delightfully wicked woman.

Standing a good head shorter than him she looks, all long eyelashes and bright brown eyes, flirtaceously up at her beau; exuding the merest hint of her customary Chanel 19, erect nipples proudly prominent beneath a tight T-shirt and an expectant expression on her face.

"Turn around", he says simply and she elegantly pirouettes barefoot on the spot. He nods towards the big old sofa ? left by the flat's previous owners and so versatile they've never enacted their earlier vow to junk it.

"Bend over, Miranda, you're in big trouble."

Gracefully she leans forward over the high back ? a familiar position to them both - forced up onto tiptoe, fingers touching the seat cushion. This stance stretches her baggy harem trousers tight, revealing the line of tiny, hardly-worth-putting-them-on panties bisecting Miranda's delightful derriere.

"I suspect you only wear those knickers to tease me," Juan observes knowingly.

"Partly true," she giggles.

"Then they're coming off," he continues decisively, tugging both garments down to the polished floorboards.

"Ooh, there's a cold draft on my bottom," she complains coquettishly.

"It won't be chilly for long," he threatens, "Your dreadful behavior at the party last night merits severe punishment."

"I wasn't drunk" ? protests the teetotal Miranda indignantly.

"No, but you were a prick tease."

"Just a bit of mardin escort fun," she pouts sulkily, "you should be pleased to have such an attractive girlfriend."

"That pleasure doesn't extend to watching her being ogled by half the room."

"More than half," Miranda replies provocatively, "some of the women fancied me too."

"All the more reason for me to chastise you. Put your hands on your bottom. Good. Now hold yourself open."

"Oh what? Please no!" Miranda protests, not wishing to display herself in such humiliating fashion.

"Just do it," demands Juan, dangerously.

Hands shaking she complies, separating her cheeks, intimate treasures blatantly exposed. Miranda's initial fear thaws into desire as Juan's exploratory fingertip teasingly touches her tightly clenched anus and aching sex. She groans lasciviously, the penetration of either orifice would be more than acceptable right at this moment.

Unfortunately Juan's questing digit is substituted by something flat, hard and inanimate. Miranda shivers expectantly, correctly guessing this to be the instrument of her impending correction.

"What's that?" Anxiety pushes her voice up several octaves.

"My old school ruler," he answers laconically.

The first swipe lands on the tight skin of an inner cheek, and she immediately yells at the smart. Further strokes follow, ringing down like drum shots into Miranda's bottom cleft. She gasps and van escort writhes, trying and failing to maintain some dignity and endure the embarrassment. A further stinging blow grazes her swollen labia bringing tears to her eyes. Miranda's hand flies behind her in vain attempt at protection.

"Don't you dare!" he growls, forcing her palm behind her back and applying a stroke along the full length of her sex as retribution. The slender wooden rule swishes down, punishing her pussy, squelching damply into the increasingly damp and puffy folds as sexual excitement competes with pain to be the dominant physical sensation.

Juan releases her wrist. "Keep your cheeks apart," he commands, I'm going to smack that tight rosebud."

Miranda feels the ruler rubbing softly across each burning cheek, then without warning landing with a sharp impact on the tightly clenched portal. Her feet involuntarily kick from the floor in outraged distress, the mental image of such a disgraceful invasion almost as bad as the physical smart permeating to her very core.

Juan pauses allowing Miranda to regain a semblance of self-control. Inexorably an overwhelming sensation of lust spreads through her body; what only moments before was a near-unbearable smarting heat is transmuting into an intensely erotic stimulus.

He rubs the ruler gently across Miranda's engorged clitoris, then again slaps her pink pussy lips. Abandoning any remaining inhibitions ankara escort she obediently pushes her most private parts up towards him in supplicant sacrifice.

Successive swats send surging sensations of pleasure to Miranda's red-swollen, wet vagina; she whimpers and quivers as an incipient orgasm quickly gains pace. Juan smacks her thighs hard, enjoying Miranda's reaction; squirming and moaning, struggling to keep her knees akimbo and allow him access to all areas.

"Tell me when you're ready for the final stroke."

Miranda wriggles back into position, grasping her spread buttocks so hard finger marks show white on the reddened skin before bravely replying. "Please give me my last stroke, Sir."

"Do you know where it will be?"

Her voice falters "On my bum hole?"

"Exactly," he answers, word good as the deed and a searing smack right across her puckered portal elicits a yowl of distress.

"Your imagination is dark, you scare me," admits Juan.

"I'm fine ? sore, but it was so intense, like being launched into sub space," Miranda responds breathlessly.

"That was really going to extremes," he continues frankly, "if you hadn't written me a script I'd never had considered a scene so harsh."

Salaciously she inserts a finger into her dripping pussy, next taking it to her mouth to slowly suck, an implicit invitation. Subtly the power balance shifts, Miranda stands and leans against the sofa. Thighs spread she grasps his belt, pulling her man forward to release a flagpole like erection. With tremulous gasps Miranda guides Juan's cock past the sore lips of her well-spanked pussy and into her yearning depths.

"That's one fantasy realised," she whispers softly in his ear, "I'll have to think of something really wild for the next one..."