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"Spank Me...Please" (Part One)

Would she hate it, or long for more?

Leah knew he was dominant, because he had told her, but what did it mean? She remembered the first time in his arms, as he explored her body, feeling places on her no man had touched in months, and some no man had touched in years. Those inaugural communications between their eyes, their flesh, and quiet murmurings had left her in a state of perpetual, primitive lust. He had taken his time, and she now knew he had learned what he could do to every place of her being, with contact that was tender, inquisitive, and sometimes, almost too much. He had taken her nipple between his fingers, and for a nipple so soft, so long since known by a man, it had made her gasp, and say, "Please..." in a way that was close to a whimper. Immediately he released the nipple, and told her, 

"I like that. I like the way you say 'please'. Say it again."

Without question, at least at that moment, she submitted to his request.

"Please,'s been a long time."

He smiled, and she stroked his beard, another new experience. He lowered his head and kissed the nipple, then caressed it with his tongue before placing his mouth around it and sucking. Leah rubbed his head, moaning, saying, "Yes, please" as she breathed in the scent of his hair.

He wanted the lights on, and he told her, rather than asking. Leah let it pass, thinking nothing except that he was as excited as her. Besides, she thought, I want to see him, too.

Mike brought her deepest arousal to the surface, doing so easily with kisses, eye contact, and wandering hands that held her close like she were a treasure. There was no question she would submit to him, because she was already falling, seduced by tenderness and power. His fingers found her vaginal opening, and he made no request for acquiescence, but said,

"I have to get in there. Now."

In seconds, he had her hips supported underneath by a pillow, and pushed into her without hesitation, pumping as far in as possible and making her gasp. He held her hips steady as he watched her face, pushing through the tight, wet tissues of her pussy with long, powerful strokes.

Leah tried to hold him, reaching up to his shoulders, moaning and crying his name as she climaxed, seeing a brief glimpse in her own mind of what she had become; a completely submissive rag doll; even as she thought it her body convulsed, flopping and grabbing, uttering a raspy cry. Mike came right after, thrusting in and holding her hips to his body, his cock pressed hard and deep as he ejaculated. Leah groaned with him, then stayed still as he moved off her and got close, hugging her. She tried to reach for a towel on the bedside, and Mike grabbed it, placed it between her legs, and then held her.

Leah tried to ignore it, yet as she lay snuggled in Mike's arms, something in her heart was changing. She reached up and rubbed Mike's bearded face, and rubbed his arm, held his hand as they talked in the peace following the passion. 

'I can't love him. I can't,' she thought.

She vowed within herself not to see him. He was married, even if the marriage was open, and she could never fully have him.

Yet, she had just had him fully in the physical sense, and already her body ached for more of his attention. The desire for his company, in general, was no less. 

There must be a way to cause herself to want and like him less before she fell in love and suffered the frustration of needing what he couldn't, wouldn't, and shouldn't give. When he later dressed and was ready to leave, Mike asked if there were anything she wanted to try next time.

Leah took a deep breath.

"Yes...I want you to...spank me...please..."

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"Spank Me...Please" (Part One)
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