Holding Her Bottom Line

Music blared from the speakers in the sunroom. Body swaying and bopping, I stood at the kitchen island, fingers click-clacking on my laptop’s keyboard. Preoccupied with the story building in my mind, I gave my imagination free rein.

“You wanted sexy and filthy, dear readers, that’s what you’re getting.” I giggled as the scene poured onto the page, my panties getting wetter by the word.

Eyes locked on his, Sindi slid herself down Jake’s body, fingernails leaving trails down his back. Once on her knees, thighs spread, she linked her hands behind her back, pushing her chest out at him. Her desire dripped onto the hardwood floor.

“Who do you belong to, little girl?” His demanding growl wrapped her up in its possessive grasp.

She knew no one could ever possess her like he could. Time to show him that she was his and he was hers.

I gasped as two hands grabbed my hips with a growl, pushing my legs apart. A tongue lashed up the length of my mound, stabbing into my puckered jewel. Head down, fingers slack, I forgot my story and pushed back into the tongue.

Crack!

Hard slap to my bare behind got my attention. As a die-hard clothing hater, I was a natural nudist and only wore clothes when absolutely necessary. They were not necessary now. Thank goodness.

“Keep writing, baby girl.” My lover laid another smack to my stinging flesh. “You stop, I stop. You have a deadline, remember?”

“Holy Hanna, you’re not...