Thoughts

IDK EVEN KNOW ANYMORE MAN

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1. CRAZY

“When I came to you in the bookstore, what was your first thought?” Harry pushed her through the door of the very same bookstore they had met at, slyly slipping the guy who was locking the door behind them a bill before coming up behind his girlfriend and slipping his arms around her waist.

“My first thought?” Palmer turned in Harry’s arms, allowing him to guide her as she walked backwards through the store.  “Oh shit, someone’s caught me reading a dirty book.”

Harry smirked down at Palmer, enjoying her smiling face, but knowing she wouldn’t be smiling if his plans went according to their design. “I did catch you reading a dirty book, didn’t I?” His hands drifted down to her waist and pulled her to a stop, bringing their hips together as they found their destination. “Recognize this aisle?”

Palmer turned her head quickly, Harry refusing to give up custody of her range of motion just yet. She smiled when she did indeed recognize the aisle they were in, the same one they had met in all those months ago when Harry had pulled an Anabel Joseph book out of the shelf and read to her the naughtiest words she’d heard from a man up to that point. “It’s where we met,”

“Yes, it is.” Harry paused, taking a minute to gain his courage of what he was about to propose to his girlfriend. He had introduced her to a few things sexually since, they had both flourished in their ideas of who they were, but they had never partaken in what Harry was planning for them. And he just hoped that Palmer would take it well. “From here on in I just want you to follow my instructions, can you do that Palmer?”

Palmer took a pause, looking in to the brilliant green of her boyfriend’s eyes. They had talked about this before they’d taken the ride over, that he would ask things of her tonight that they had discussed before, but not specifically in detail. And she if she were to agree here and now, she was completely under his control for the remainder of the night. “Yes, I can.”

Harry’s smirk broadened, and he made a quick movement to reach behind her on the shelf to pull out the book he had reviewed the night before, spending almost an hour deciding which passage he would choose for this particular moment. “Read it,” Harry opened the book to his desired page, pointing a long finger exactly where he wanted her to start.

For a beat Palmer stood motionless, clutching the book Harry had just handed her and staring at it as if she didn’t know quite what it was. Then she looked up at him, her mouth open as if she was struggling to get out a question but couldn’t form the words and her brown eyes wide with surprise. “You want me to read it?” Her voice, barely audible before, now dropped to a whisper. “Out loud?”

Harry smiled in reply, he thought it was extremely telling that the first words out of her mouth weren’t a protest. She was looking down and fidgeting, if her skin had been any darker he wouldn’t have been able to see the red that graced her cheeks, but still she did not move, she did not run away, and he could sense the shimmering arousal in the sound of her quick breathing and the tension running under her skin.

Palmer’s thoughts were running quickly through her head. Maybe she could just get it over with and then he’d be done with this particular event and they could go back to normal. She had settled on taking whatever he wanted this night as her penance for being such a raging bitch the week before, if he was just trying to embarrass her in punishment for the past week, maybe she could thwart him by finding some innocent passage to read out loud – but who was she trying to kid? There was no such passage in the whole stupid book he had passed her. And she recognized it as one of the books she had read before she’d started in on the Anabel Joseph one, which meant he must’ve been watching her even before the day he approached her.

She’d been staring at her feet, but now Palmer risked a quick look at Harry’s face, to see if he’d changed his mind. He was still looking at her, reeling her in, waiting patiently, as if he knew she’d eventually give in and do just what he asked. For the second time, Palmer felt a flare of indignation, and she latched onto it eagerly. She’d show him she wasn’t intimidated. He’d probably lose interest if she acted like she wasn’t embarrassed. With one defiant glance up at her tormentor, Palmer opened the book and started to read the passage Harry’s finger had pointed out in The Claiming of Sleeping Beauty by Anne Rice.

To her horror, he’d selected the chapter where Prince makes Beauty crawl on the floor at the inn and kneel at his feet while he eats. So much for not being embarrassed, although her voice started out strong, she hadn’t gotten through a paragraph before her face flamed and her throat dried up. For them to be reading it together like this was obscene. And yet the images were working on her, the way they always did, and she saw herself as Beauty, cringing and ashamed as she crawled naked in front of the villagers and the soldiers. As always, her skin seemed to tingle as if she were the one so mercilessly exposed, her nipples hardening, hear rushing to pool between her legs. Palmer had a terrible desire to take one step closer to Harry, just to bring her itching, tingling breasts into contact with his hard chest.

Palmer hesitated. She knew that, just on the next page, the princess was going to be spanked. She couldn’t possibly read that part out loud. Taking a deep breath, she read a little farther, in a halting, whispery voice then trailed off before the prince gave the order for Beauty’s punishment. She closed the book defiantly, with a panicky little snap, but kept her gaze on the floor, her face red.

“What happens next?” Palmer felt her face get even redder as he spoke in that quiet, commanding voice. But she realized vaguely that her embarrassment was now vying with some other feeling, some other impulse, which had everything to do with the man in front of her and the fact that she’d been waiting for years for someone to come along and give her orders, just as he was doing. So she took a deep breath and started to stammer.

“She- well, she, um—“

“Look at me.” Palmer was startled into doing just that, and when she encountered the heat in his gaze, her breath failed her again. Somehow, she managed to squeak a bit desperately.

“She gets spanked, Sir.” And then she clapped a hand over her mouth in astonishment, her face so dismayed it was comical. She couldn’t believe she’d just called him that. But she also realized she was hornier than she’d ever been in her life. Completely flustered, her face burning, Palmer dropped her hand to grip the book again and watched to see if he would smile at her slip of tongue.

Instead, he nodded again, gravely, the nod acknowledging not only the correctness of her statement but of the way she had addressed him. And his gaze…he knew exactly what she was feeling, she was sure of it, he knew the effect he was having on her, knew she was just waiting for him to…

“That’s right,” he said, interrupting her thoughts with his matter of fact voice. “She gets spanked.” Palmer knew he was no longer talking about the princess, even before he lifted the book from her trembling hands. “Pull down your pants.” He said, his voice soft but commanding.

Her instinct was to obey him and her hands went almost immediately to the button on her jeans. But then she froze, as it suddenly occurred to her that they were in public. The store was empty of people, but anyone walking past the giant windows facing the parking lot could see into the store, might even notice Harry’s head where it showed above the bookshelves.

He saw her eyes flick nervously towards the window at the front of the store and responded with another brief, sympathetic smile. “Let’s go somewhere more private.” He said, and caught her arms again, leading her, unresisting, towards that same door they had disappeared through the day they’d met.

Palmer’s relief that Harry hadn’t completely lost his mind only lasted a moment, before she was overcome with confusion. Was she really about to willingly submit to a spanking from him? Was she really on the verge of pulling down her pants for him? It wasn’t just like their normal disrobing while they made love in his house. This wasn’t even like when he had taken her behind the abandoned gas station the day of their barbeque. This was different – he was controlling the situation, controlling her, pushing and prodding just the right way to make her weak with desire. What would he do next? She couldn’t help but wonder. Surely he’d make her bend over…the thought made her so hot she let out a little moan.

She tried to muffle it, unsuccessfully, and was mortified when Harry stopped mid-step and turned to face her. The knowing look in his eyes made her want to melt into the ground. He released her arm, stood close to her and said, “I see you’re in a hurry.” His voice was calm as if he was discussing the weather. “Pull down your pants. Now.”

They were still out in the store, at the very back, just outside the ‘Employees Only’ door. But Palmer knew that he was right, that she was going to do what he told her to do, that she was so worked up now that she would do it even if they were standing in the store window.

She looked down and watched, hypnotized, while her hands unbuttoned and unzipped her jeans…then tugged them past her hips. Then unable to help herself, she raised her eyes to his, desperate to see him watching her as she slowly lowered her pants to her thighs, then her knees, and finally to her ankles, the very act of bending, the crouching in order to do so while holding his gaze sending a shudder of pleasure through her as if he were the one bending her over. Which he was, Palmer realized.

She stood up as slowly as she had bent, her arms handing by her sides, her gaze never leaving his for an instant. When she was fully upright, however, she watched his gaze travel downward to take in the lacy pink panties she was now displaying to him – and for the first time that day she was very glad she had been able to pick out her lingerie, his reaction was an appreciative hum. Then he simply turned and disappeared through the door, leaving it open and calling “Back here,” over his shoulder as he went.

Palmer was stunned for a moment. Was he expecting her to – yes, obviously he was. She stood, clenching and unclenching her firsts. Then, with her pants still around her ankles she shuffled through the door after him, cursing him – first for humiliating her this way, and then for knowing it was exactly what she wanted.

He didn’t even have the decency to look away while she awkwardly made her way into the room. No, he had turned to face her and stood there staring unapologetically. He seemed amused. He indicated with a gesture that she should continue to come forward, and as she did, Palmer furtively looked around. They were in the employees’ break room. There were a couple vending machines, a refrigerator, a sink, and two folding tables, pushed together end to end. A few boxes of new merchandise and promotional materials for the store were stacked around.

Palmer stopped when she was still a few feet away from him and looked up uncertainly. He was staring at the wispy pink triangle that covered her mound. She quelled an obscure urge to push her hips forward, give him a better view. He met her eyes, then instructed her, “Turn around,” make a pirouetting motion with his finger.

When she hesitated a bit too long, reluctant to resume her awkward shuffle, he suddenly snapped, “Now!” Palmer jumped and rushed to spin around, but when her back was to him he instructed her to stop. She obediently froze. Her heart pounded. She could feel him staring at her ass. Her skin tingled, and again she had to resist the impulse to push it towards him. She knew he’d be able to see how damp her panties had gotten if she did that; and her embarrassment made her stay still.

“Turn,” he said again, and Palmer started to complete her circle, but he stopped her again before she was through, and she found herself facing the table. She gave a startled gasp as she felt his hand on her back, warm even through her clothes, and she let him guide her a few steps closer to the table. “Put your hands on the table.”

Palmer did, bending forward at the waist. “Now, put your nose to the table,” came his voice, and God help her, she did that too, aware that her ass was now sticking obscenely up into the air. She was barely aware that she moaned again, and that she was breathing loudly out of her mouth. She felt his breath brush her ear as he said softly, “Good girl,” and a surge of intense pleasure went through her at the praise.

She heard his footsteps retreating, then the loud click of the door as it latched closed. Palmer suddenly wished they hadn’t come into this room. The door closing seemed say to her, no turning back now. She started to shake as he was coming towards her. Palmer could hear his footsteps approaching and gritted her teeth against what she was sure would be an immediate, open-handed slap to her behind.

The footsteps stopped just behind her.

There was silence.

Palmer imagined him studying her behind as if deciding on the most sensitive place to land his first blow, slowly raising his hand to shoulder height, then back, ready to strike. She felt the muscles of her behind tensing in anticipation and at the same time was shocked to feel tears well up in her eyes, trying her best to keep them from running down her cheeks and drip from her quivering chin.

The silence continued, and continued.

Why didn’t he just begin? The waiting was killing her. What the hell was he waiting for? Her entire body was shaking now. She couldn’t stand the torture another second. She lifted her head and prepared to push herself upright.

…Only to be shoved back into position, hard enough to hand her nose on the table, by his hand on the back of her head. She cried out with the pain of it and struggled briefly to free herself from his hand, but to no avail. He simply continued to hold her in place until she subsided. Only then was his hand removed.

The silence continued as she calmed herself and allowed her anger – some of it, anyway – to drain. Only when Palmer was completely settled into her position again did he finally speak. He said only one word: “Ask.”

Palmer’s whole body stiffened. Ask to be spanked by him? He had to be kidding. She couldn’t possibly – she opened her mouth to protest, got as far as “But – ” before she caught herself. Of course. It fit the pattern. Harry wasn’t going to let her pretend, even for a second, that she didn’t want this, that she was an innocent victim. If she wanted him to spank her, and oh, God, she did, then she was going to have to beg for it.

With a valiant effort, Palmer choked out, “Please…Sir, will you…” Her voice came out a trembling whisper, and it didn’t help that she was talking into the table, so it wasn’t surprising when he urged her on. She turned her head to one side and tried again. “Please, Sir –”

“I can’t hear you.” 

In that moment, Palmer hated him. She felt her hands fisting in frustration and suddenly growled, in a much louder voice, “I want you to spank me!” She couldn’t see his face, but could picture him raising his eyebrows at her outburst, smiling in that way of his. She blushed. Before he could admonish her, she quickly added, “Please,” in a softer tone. After another pause, she gritted out, “Sir.”

He must have leaned down from her blind side because suddenly his lips were almost touching her ear as he whispered, softly, “I know.” It was such a stupid, obvious thing to say. Of course he knew that was what she wanted – why else would she be in such a ridiculous, humiliating position? Hadn’t he just forced her to ask for it?

But something about the way he’d said it – intimately, caressingly, so close to her – implied a depth of knowledge far beyond those two simple words. Knowledge of her, Palmer, and her most secret, shameful desires; needs she’d never dared to admit even to herself. He knew. His hands were gently lifting her head, returning it to its nose-down position. Her panties were sopping wet. She felt his hands releasing her head and wanted them back. She wanted…she wanted…

She began to beg, realized dimly that she’d lost the last shred of her self-control. She was babbling, nearly incoherently, “Oh, God, please do something…please help me…I need – I need…”

Harry silenced her with a hard swat to her upraised ass. “Be quiet,” he snapped. Palmer, still trying to catch her breath after the shock of that first blow, was incapable of speech, but she felt a little shiver of pleasure at his firm tone.

And then, all at once, it had begun. Whack. Whack. Palmer struggled to hold in a weep almost immediately. Her arousal momentarily lessened with the pain of the spanking. In all the years she’d dreamed of this very thing happening to her, she’d never thought it would hurt this much. He certainly wasn’t going easy on her.

When Palmer started to wiggle desperately, shifting her weight from one foot to the other and squirming under his hand, Harry paused. He ran his hand over her reddened cheeks, slipping one finger under the edge of her panties and followed the line of the fabric down…down…

Palmer held her breath, pleading inwardly that he would touch her. All her desire came flooding back, stronger than before. She closed her eyes and moaned out loud. Suddenly he grabbed her braids, pulled her head up, and slid the book under her nose. In dismay, Palmer saw that it was open to the same page she’d been reading out loud in the store. She’d forgotten he had it.

“Now, read.”

She had been so close, so close, and now he wanted her to read again? She was feeling so helpless, so worked up that she wasn’t sure she could even focus her eyes, let alone read. There was no way, and she started to turn her head to tell him so just as he grabbed hold of her panties and jerked her up until her feet left the floor, the crotch digging painfully between her legs. Then with his free hand he landed another vicious slap on the now exposed cheeks of her behind and roared. “I…said…read.”

The flare of anger Palmer felt this time was brief and promptly faded. Her predominant impulse was to obey him as quickly as she could. “Okay, okay!” she gasped out, relieved when he lowered her feet back to the floor. He didn’t let go of her panties, though, and the thin fabric felt delicious pressing against her pussy, and, ever so slightly, against her clit. She wanted badly to rock against it. Focus, she told herself, and determinedly turned her eyes to the open book.

The problem was, even if she were alone in her own room, Palmer would have trouble reading this particular section out loud. It included Beauty’s second spanking, ordered by the Prince and administered by the innkeeper’s daughter – with a paddle. In the scene, the Prince’s soldiers in the room watched with interest, while the curious villagers, pressed up against the windows outside the inn, had a perfect view of the mortified Beauty’s crotch as she lay across the other girl’s lap. The cool way the Prince handed her over to another, the use of the paddle, the crowd – why did those details make it so much worse? Palmer licked her lips nervously and took a deep breath.

Whack.

She yelped, but got the message. She had hesitated too long. Hurriedly, Palmer read out the first sentence. She’d always been good at reading aloud, but now her voice came out shaky and quiet. When she came to the world ‘paddle’, it dropped to a whisper and she stuttered.

Whack.

As she recovered herself and tried to go on reading, his free hand started to explore again, stroking the silky skin of her inner thighs, brushing ever so lightly over the tight material of her panties. When he did that, she completely lost her focus. She stopped in mid-sentence, gasping, “Oh! Yes…”

Whack.

And so it went, for several paragraphs. Whenever she managed to focus on the page, he’d start touching her, and when she got distracted, or made the slightest error in her diction, he’d spank her until she was back on track.

After a while it no longer seemed to matter whether he was spanking or stroking her, whether she was reading correctly or stumbling over every other word, whether she was Palmer or Beauty. She had entered a beautiful, hazy dimension where every sensation was an erotic one, where she was always just seconds away from reaching an orgasm of life-altering intensity – if she could just – surrender a little more deeply.

So she read and she was stroked and she stumbled and she was spanked and she knew it would go on like that forever, and it made her very happy. But eventually, with no idea of how it had happened or how long it had taken her, Palmer reached the end of the chapter. She hesitated for a moment and was about to go on when the book was whisked away from beneath her face. Then his hands were on her shoulders and she was flipped over onto her back as easily as if she were a feather pillow.

Her legs would no longer support her and slid backwards beneath the table. Palmer slithered downward and would have landed jarringly on her knees if he had not continued to hold her and let her down gently. But the sudden change in position had shaken her awake. She opened her eyes, which had been half-closed, the better to enjoy her erotic dream world…And found herself facing, at a distance of a few inches, the front of his pants.

She stared, transfixed, at the distinct bulge there. Her mouth fell open, the snapped shut and she licked her lips nervously. It had been seemingly so long and she was so transfixed that she missed the grimace, as if in pain, on Harry’s face when she did that. She reached out one hand, but just as she was about to touch him she came back to herself, yanked her hand back, and peeked nervously up at him. It occurred to her that she should ask his permission before she grabbed his cock.

He smiled to reassure her, then his face was serious again as he said, “Take off your shirt.” She did, showing him the pretty, pink push-up bra that matched her panties. She couldn’t resist watching for his reaction, and was gratified to see his eyes heat in appreciation. She felt suddenly powerful, on top of the world, even though she was on her knees and her pants were still bunched around her ankles. She suddenly wished he had tied her hands. She put them behind her back. She smiled up at him, and he nodded solemnly. She leaned forward and put her lips to the bulge in his pants.

They both moaned, and Palmer felt her sense of power ratchet up another notch. She was submitting to his will – and loving every second of it – but right now she was in charge. She kissed him again, a little harder right at the very top of the bulge and began working her way down, a kiss at a time, adding a little more pressure and lingering a little longer with each one. When she reached the bottom she opened her mouth and tried to reach his balls with her tongue through the thick fabric of his pants, her open mouth pressed against the crotch, her breath gasping through her nose.

“Christ…” She heard him moan. But even as she was savoring the effect she was having on him she felt her head being seized in his hands. And before she knew what was happening he had shoved her face against the front of his pants and was rubbing it back and forth and up and down, grunting like an animal as he crudely rutted against her.

Palmer was shocked for a brief moment. The she had an idea, and to her own amazement she managed to catch the tab of his zipper in her teeth as her mouth passed over his fly. When he pushed her head back down, the loud unzipping sound made him freeze. He looked at her and she released the zipper and gave him an impish grin.

He looked so enthralled that Palmer almost giggled. She leaned forward again and carefully drew his zipper the rest of the way down, using only her teeth. She pressed her face into the gap and reached out with her tongue again, his thin cotton boxers the only barrier now between her mouth and his cock. She would have worked the button on his pants undone, too, but he made a sound of impatience and did it for her, pushing his boxers down at the same time and stepping out of his clothes.

Palmer gulped. Now that she was faced with his cock for the first time in a long time, it looked huge. Huge and tantalizing. She leaned toward it, as if mesmerized, and took him in her mouth. As if from far away, a little voice in her head was trying to tell her that she was crazy, that her and Harry had been struggling just the last month, that they would be separated in just a couple of months and that they were in the back room of a bookstore – but she resolutely pushed those thoughts away. It felt so good to taste him, to please him, and she loved having his cock in her mouth. She wondered what he would do next. Would he hold her down and fuck her hard, the way she was dying for him to? The thought made her pussy throb. She felt the wet spot in her panties growing and growing, and she went a little wild, sucking and licking him frantically, trying to swallow the whole length of him.

With a growl, he grabbed her arms and yanked her up and off her feet. He sat her down, none too gently, on top of the table, so that her ass rested at the very edge. He pushed against her shoulders and she obediently lay back. He was in control again, she thought, and felt exhilarated. Before she could bring her legs up to keep her balance, he was grabbing the waistband of her panties and yanking them off of her, finally divesting her of her pants at the same time, her flip flops having fallen off long before.

“Spread your legs,” he ordered, a bit hoarsely. Palmer closed her eyes, shuddering with lust. She bent her knees and brought her feet up to rest on the table on either side of her ass, aware that she was stretched to the extreme, aware that he could see everything. Her hips started to pump uncontrollably, and Palmer knew that she was going to come. She was so close.

A sharp pain brought Palmer back to Earth. Her eyes flew open. He had reached into her bra and was pinching one of her nipples hard, looking into her eyes. His face was so close she gasped in surprise. “You…do not come, unless I say you can,” he growled. He seized her bra in both hands and tore it apart, then yanked it from beneath her and threw it on the floor, leaving her completely naked. He grabbed her hair again with one hand and began slapping her breasts with the other, just hard enough to make them tingle and burn.

“You belong to me – is that understood?” he went on. “Your tits,” He slapped them again. “Your mouth,” he shoved three fingers so deeply into her mouth that she began to choke, and then just as quickly removed them. “And your pussy,” he concluded, using his thumb to press down on her clitoris. Palmer cried out and writhed and groaned and whimpered nonsense as he went on tormenting her ruthlessly, wonderfully.

“You belong to me! You are mine!” He jerked her upward by two fistfuls of hair until her face was literally touching his, and his eyes burned into hers. “Say it,” he demanded of her. And when she didn’t immediately respond he jerked her head back and forth by her braids. “Say it!”

Palmer was a little frightened by his intensity, but the thing was, she agreed with him. At that moment she wanted nothing more than to be his, to have him continue to torture her so deliciously, to have him put his cock in her. She’d do almost anything if only he’d fuck her. “Yes!” she cried, her voice trembling with passion and a little bit of fear. “Yes, I’m yours. I – I – ” Her voice dropped to a whisper. “I belong to you.” She closed her eyes, feeling herself blush once again, wondering if he saw her spasm-ing as she said the words.

He let go of her hair, and lowered her head back to rest on the table. But he stayed leaning over her for a moment longer, standing between her spread legs, his face close to hers, and she opened her eyes and looked at him. “I’m sorry,” she whispered. “God, you just make me so hot.” She thought she saw his lips twitch as if he were holding back a smile. “It’s so hard to hold it back, Sir,” she finished, dropping his gaze.

As apologies went, it was pretty damn good, he thought. He was secretly pleased by how well it was going. He brushed his lips over her forehead, her closed eyelids, and murmured, for the second time, “Good girl.” Again, Palmer felt joy and relief wash over her at his words. She thought she’d do anything, anytime, to hear him praise her like that. The feeling was quickly replaced by trepidation, however, as he returned his attention to her pussy. She was already burning and wet; how was she supposed to avoid climaxing under his skillful hands? She’d never in her life attempted not to come when she was this worked up – if she’d ever been this horny.

The first thing he did was use both hands to pull her outer lips apart, and then just stood, looking. Palmer immediately felt herself coming close to the edge. She moaned, loud and long, and thrashed her head from side to side. He looked up. “I haven’t even started yet,” he said.

Good Lord, he was teasing her. Didn’t he know how hard she was trying to obey him? Couldn’t he see how desperate she was? For God’s sake, her pussy was practically dripping. She whimpered. “I can help you,” he said, “but it’s going to hurt. Do you want that?”

She took a deep breath, “I want…I want to please you,” she stammered, hoping that was the right answer. He stood up and walked away from her without another word. For Palmer it was as if he’d thrown a bucket of ice-water over her. Had she given the wrong answer? Was this how it would end – he was just going to leave her there? She started to raise herself up on her elbows…

Just as he returned. He saw what she was doing and without breaking his stride simply pointed a forefinger at her…and Palmer collapsed back onto the table as if he had physically pushed her down. She gasped with relief.

And then she gasped with pain, and then shrieked out loud as it suddenly doubled. She tried instinctively to reach for the source of her agony – her breasts – but found her wrists pinned to the table under his hands. She began to thrash wildly on the table as she looked down and saw the two large paper clamps – the spring-driven, sharp-edged metal ones for thick bundles of paper – which he had attached to her nipples. For a moment she panicked, afraid her nipples would be damaged irreparably, but then she looked at his face as he stared, fascinated, at the clips and she calmed somewhat. She trusted him. He must’ve known what he was doing, she thought. And she realized how sexy she must look to him, writhing helplessly in pain.

Somehow she’d managed to keep her heels up on the table, maintaining her spread position. When her wild struggling subsided, and she was just whimpering helplessly at the burning pain in her nipples, he released her wrists and stroked her wide-open thighs. “You’re doing great,” he said soothingly, and Palmer felt absurdly proud. “Don’t move your hands,” he added.

The initial pain had lessened, and Palmer thought she could stand it now. He’d been right, though, about it taking her mind off of her pussy. Her concentration was divided between her clamped nipples and her hungry pussy as he returned his attention to her crotch.

She was able to hold still as he stroked her outer lips, and even when he slid one long finger into her, though she panted grunted with the effort to keep from humping it. But then he used his other hand to pinch her clit, and her whole body jerked. Crying out, she instinctively grabbed for his hand, trying to force him to release the horrible pressure on her sensitive bud, which was making intense sensations of pain and pleasure shoot through her body. “I told you not to move your hands!” he snapped. “Put them back – now.” Sobbing, Palmer obeyed, and felt him release her clit at last.

But then he started rubbing it, simultaneously sliding his finger in and out, and she arched her back. It seemed now that the clips on her nipples were not distracting her, but only allowing her arousal to climb higher, the pain somehow blending with the crazy pleasure of his hands on her. “Oh, please!” she wailed.

Her hands gripped the edge of the table then clawed at its surface as she tried desperately to obey his command to keep them still. But it was so fucking hard when he was standing right there between her legs with his erection plainly visible as he stroked her to madness – and her entire being was overwhelmed with the desire to seize him by the shoulders and pull him down on top of her.

“Please!” she cried out again, knowing that she couldn’t hold out much longer without her entire body shaking itself to pieces.

He continued to work on her, but allowed a tiny hint of a smile to cross his features. “Please, what?”

“Please…” She didn’t know. She didn’t know if she wanted him to let her come, to keep torturing her, to make her beg some more. “Please…”And then it burst out of her, from a place of need so deep that it seemed her whole life had been building up to this moment. “Fuck me, Sir! Fuck me, please!”

He hooked his arms under her knees to push her legs back towards her chest then entered her with a single, powerful thrust. That was all it took for Palmer. She screamed as her entire body tightened in rapture. Her eyes rolled back in her head, her toes curled and uncurled, her hands clawed at the table, and then she had no more breath to scream, but kept coming and coming as he fucked her violently, his cock touching her womb, his pelvis mashing her clit with each thrust.

He had never felt anything like it. She was clamped down on him like a vise, her vagina clenching with relentless pressure as he plundered it. Sweat broke out on his forehead as he tried to hold back his own orgasm, but he soon realized he couldn’t hold out and allowed himself to speed up, pistoning in and out like a jackhammer until finally he felt it begin.

He grabbed her throat in one hand and squeezed just enough to make her open her glazed eyes. “Fuck, I’m coming.” He growled. “You are mine!” As his cock began to spurt, he yanked the clips off of her nipples, and, unbelievably, the sudden pain as the blood rushed back to them sent her into a new series of spasms, prolonging his climax, until finally he collapsed on top of her.

When Palmer came back to earth, his head was on her chest, nestled between her breasts. His cock was still inside her, and her legs were wrapped around his back. She ran her hands through his long locks of hair, over his back, stroking. She’d just had sex with Harry in the bookstore. Not only that, she’d submitted to him, begged him to spank her, to fuck her, to let her come. She smiled.

When he lifted his head to meet her gaze, she was still smiling in satisfaction. Her eyes shone with adoration. He smiled back, and they both savored the moment. Then his smile faded and he said sternly. “You came without my permission.”

He abruptly stood up, his cock sliding out of her with an audible slurping sound. He reached down to the floor and picked up her panties. He used them to wipe off his cock, still glistening with their combined juices, then did the same for Palmer’s pussy, roughly, as if wiping down a piece of furniture.

He dangled them in front of her, enjoying the wide eyed expression on her face. “Maybe we should leave these here for my friends that let us in here. What do you think about that?” Palmer thought that since they’d both found completion, maybe the scene was over and she was going to get her sweet, polite, gentlemanly Harry back, but she was secretly joyed that he was keeping it going.

“No, please, Sir.” Palmer rose from the table on shaky legs and lowered herself to her knees, with her head upturned and her wide brown eyes boring in to Harry’s gleaming green ones. “I don’t want anyone else to have them, you should have them. They belong to you.”

Harry sent her down a smile, and she saw the very moment his character broke and he was reaching down to tug her up. He brought his arms around her and pressed his forehead against hers and couldn’t help himself but to press a series of kisses all over her face. “Thank you, baby.”

Palmer leaned into Harry’s body, completely uncaring that they were both completely naked in the back room of a book store. “You’re welcome, baby. But can we agree not to do that for a while? I think I’m gonna be sore, you’re a fucking animal.” Palmer smiled up at her boyfriend, absolutely pleased with his own smile of pride.

“I can’t make any promises when it comes to you.” 

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