My GF; Fucking & How We Met Ch. 07

"You are very welcome, my darling." I took her shaking hand and led her into the depths of my house, but not straight to my bedroom. I kept my fedora, leather jacket, and heels on.

Her tone and body language told me that her emotional dial was cranked too far toward nervous and tense, so I took her in my arms. I wanted her sex level set exactly at excited, but unafraid.

Her hands slid beneath my jacket and shirt, as is their wont, but she paused there when she felt the unfamiliar texture of a corset.

"Yeah, you're in for quite a show tonight." I cheekily answered the question she hadn't asked yet.

She giggled, and I knew I had her right where I wanted her.

Slowly, I untied my black silk necktie, letting my unbuttoned shirt collar fall open and exposing a deep line of cleavage. My partially exposed breasts immediately drew her interested eyes and drew a rising color to her cheeks. Not really surprising. My breasts are pretty fucking attention worthy.

I slipped the loosed tie off my neck and onto hers, pulling her toward me with the ends. Her silken lips found mine eagerly. Her hands held my waist. My tongue invaded her willing mouth and she moaned enticingly around its wetness. I couldn't get enough.

Due to kissing my girlfriend rather heatedly and a bit aggressively, my hat tipped back as it bumped against her forehead. It broke the organic magic of the seductive moment and caused us both to laugh again.

"You know that I'll take everything off myself later, right?" I landed a quick peck on her lower lip. "You're kinda jumping the gun."

"I'm sorry. I-. Oh," she realized I was teasing her and let her excitement at the first vocalized promise of a striptease show. "Okay."

"Okay." After a final quick kiss, I tossed the tie aside, righted my fedora, and took her waifish hand. "C'mon. Let's go upstairs."

~~~Leading her by the hand to my bedroom, I clocked her pleasantly surprised face when she saw my stripper pole set up in the corner. It's a plain chrome ceiling-high pole on a weighted octagonal stage/base. (The base also lights up with rotating colors, because I'm a sucker for flash, but that seemed a bit much for her first time.)

I kissed her again, because I can and I like her and I like kissing her.

"This is your seat." I sat her down in a padded folding chair. "And these are your shades." I put a pair of mirrored aviator sunglasses on her pretty face to liberate her to look wherever she wanted unobtrusively.

The big smile on her face from that moment on made the night so very worth it for me.

I kicked up the lights to be super bright, to the point where I almost wanted shades myself, but it was her night. I'd also be doing some cornball amateur moves, because she'd never had a lover put on a show for her before and so cornball amateur moves were what she wanted.

"These are for you." I handed her a roll of hundreds.

Her eyebrows shot up above the aviators. "That's a lot of money."

"Trust me, I'm worth it." I leaned over her to give her a good visual shot of cleavage. "Now, have you been in a strip club before, Hotness?"

She shook her head. The angle suggested that she was still enjoying looking down my blouse, but without her cheeks coloring as before. I let catching her looking slide, more interested in the freedom she was feeling than the little jolt of pleasure I'd get from teasing her that way.

"Well, you're in Champagne Room, so the rules are a little different, but the main one is," I put one hand on the back of her head and made her motorboat me. "I can touch you as much as I want." I let her head up, swimming. "And you're welcome to enjoy anything you see." I straddled her. "Or feel."

I ground back and forth on her lap and kissed her hard for a good fifteen seconds, until I felt her hands on my waist. I grabbed both her wrists, gripping so she gasped, but didn't stop kissing her except to chastise her. "But you can't touch." I relaxed my grip on her wrists enough to feel her physical tension at the enforcement of my no touching policy. That reaction turned me on, so I ground into her lap as I made out with her.

Her charms distracted me, but I needed to move the evening along. I bit her lip a little, released her with some reluctance, and stepped away to kick on a premade dance mix.

Flo Rida's "My House" came on and I showed her a little dressed pole work, getting her used to me dancing for her. Also, I couldn't go too crazy while still wearing my fedora.

Then "You Give Love a Bad Name" from Bon Jovi started, so I took two more swings before sauntering back over to where my sylph sat in rapt attentiveness and straddling her warm lap. I crossed my wrists behind her neck, swivelled my hips to the beat, and watched her head turn back and forth as she watched my body move for her.

Toward the end of the song, I took off my black felt fedora and put it on her head. Cheesy, yes. But she smiled so hard.

Again, I kissed her soft, pliant lips. She let her arms hang down the sides of the chair, but her fingers were hyperextended from the stress of not touching me back. I caressed her face and neck as I kissed her and ground provocatively into her lap, not making it easy on her.

And I threw in a few hair whips, because Bon Jovi songs demand a few good stripper hair whips.

"Keep Your Shoes on" by Scissor Sisters blasted from my speakers and I spun off her lap to reassume my place on the platform.

My leather jacket came off first, slung across the room and onto my waiting bed. My earrings, necklace, bracelets, and rings fell to the floor next.

One black patent-leather high-heeled boot in front of the other, I walked back to her, fake pouty frown on my face.

I leaned over her and whispered in her ticklish ear. "Seriously, Gorgeous? You haven't seen or felt anything yet that's worth a little cash?" I licked her earlobe. "I know you're loaded, so if you don't give me a little encouragement," I took my fedora off her head and put it back on, "I guess I can get back dressed and find something else to do."

She jolted and reached for the roll of hundreds, took three off, and tentatively slipped them between my breasts in my partially unbuttoned shirt.

"That's better, Sugar Momma." I put the fedora back on her. "Keep 'em coming."

I stood back up straight and let my pants drop to a pool on the floor, revealing black fishnet stockings, black garters, and a small black thong.

"Any more for me, Sexy?" I pulled out the waistband of my thong out with one thumb suggestively. She folded a few bills in, more eagerly this time. I rewarded her by taking her hand and sliding it up and down over my fishnet clad leg and the black garter straps.

Her cheeks flushed bright red at that. I turned her head from looking at my long legs to view my torso as I slowly finished unbuttoning my shirt and tossed it aside, revealing the corset beneath that she'd felt earlier. Her eyebrows rose significantly above the frames of the aviators.

My corset was ivory with black lace, not so tight or ridged as to be difficult to dance in or to actually change my form, but visibly steel-boned and elaborately tooled for a sense of opulence. I ran her hands over that too and made myself another $500 of my own money.

Satisfied for the moment with my payment, I went back to the pole as Kevin Rudolf's "You Make the Rain Fall" came on. I can dance to that song forever, despite reservations about the lyrics.

I dropped to the floor. She threw money. I hung upside down off the pole, breasts staying firmly in my corset. She threw money. Hell, I'd wink at her while shaking my ass in her general direction and she threw money. My girl might not be highly discriminating when it comes to me.

The song finished and rolled into "The Fix" by Nelly. As the music slowed, I sat lightly on her knees, facing away from her. I pulled my wavy red hair over one shoulder and spoke barely above the volume of music over my shoulder.

"Unlace me, Big Spender."

Her trembling hands were surprisingly nimble. I didn't credit her gamer fingers enough, because her manual skills had the corset off way before I expected it to be off. I twisted back around to straddle her while facing her and make her motorboat me for real.

"You're good at that, Hotness." I complimented her. "Wanna take off my thong?"

She nodded into my boobs. The rims of the aviators were a little cold, but I otherwise enjoyed the sensation thoroughly.

I stood a little to the side of her still seated form and turned one hip toward her.

She reached a hand out, but I placed it back at her side. Then I pulled out the waist of my thong again. "With your teeth, Darling."

My girl smiled and leaned forward to take the cloth between her teeth and tug down. Bills fell out. I didn't care.

She soon realized that between our difference in height and the fact that I still wore my four inch heels, she couldn't get an angle to bring the thong down below my upper thighs.

"Kneel, Sweetness." My fedora fell off her head as she went to her knees. She started to reach for the fallen hat, but I caught her chin and turned her face to me. "Just worry about undressing me. The rest of your clothes will be off soon enough."

My girlfriend shook a bit in anticipation as she re-bit the edge of my thong and started trying to pull it down. I petted her sweet blonde head. There was a definite learning curve to pulling down clothes orally, but her eagerness served her well and she got the thong down over my garters, fishnets, and boots and off me.

I held my hand out to her and helped her back into her chair, before retaking my place in her lap, fronts flush together.

While still stroking my hands through her pretty blonde hair, I went back to making out with her, me mostly naked and her still fully clothed.

Now I have a good 40lbs on her, so she couldn't really shift away, but I left her arms and hands free. I admit that it was a touch mean and not at all sporting. Like fishing in a stocked pond, I knew I only needed to leave the bait out long enough and...

"Bad girl." I playfully slapped her hand as she broke and set it on the naked skin of my lower back. "I told you. No touching."

"I'm sorry. I-" she started, but I cut her off.

"Touch me again and I'll spank your cute ass."

I vociferated laughter, because her nimble hands were kneading my ass within a half a heartbeat of me making the desired threat.

"Okay, Kitten. I guess we've moved past the stripping part of the fantasy and into the spanking part?" I helped her to her feet and embraced her.

She kissed my neck in the affirmative.

I released her and she reached for her pants, but I stopped her. "I get to undress you tonight."

I pantsed her quickly, making her shiver. I knelt before her, and nuzzling and caressing her thighs. Then I took her white lace panties in my teeth and slowly dragged them down her body. Her hands tousled my hair until I got to my hands and knees below her reach.

In one motion, I stood and took off her tee shirt. I turned her away from me and kissed her shoulders while unhooking and removing her matching lacy white bra.

After maneuvering her onto her back on my bed, I laid across her and made out with her some more.

"Mmmph," she tried to speak, so I released her lips, but kept planting kisses on her delicate neck. "You were going to spank me, Baby. I was bad."

"But it's so fun to kiss you." I teased.

"Okay," she pouted.

I propped myself on my elbow and looked down at her pretty face, her eyes still protected by the aviators.

I thought I understood then (and I know I understand better now) where her desire for physical discipline comes from. There's an enjoyment from the titillation factor of being spanked, sure, and it's one that I share with her. But the strong desire for enforced obedience and accompanying physical correction comes from a place of insecurity and neediness, from wanting desperately to belong to someone.

That deeply embedded insecurity comes from a period of extended privation of the soul in her past, but that doesn't make the resulting yearning any less real for her now. And the fact that her need comes from spending her youth unkept at best doesn't keep me from wanting to fulfill her desire to wholly belong to someone now either. I do want to be sure that she's not looking to punish herself though.

I caressed her pretty face with the tips of my fingers, touching the corner her mouth to make her smile. "I'm definitely spanking you, Kitten, in no small part because you have such a cute, smackable ass." I confided, "But I need you to know that you haven't really been bad and I'm not mad at you."

Her head darted up to give me a quick peck on the lips, which I graduated to a full makeout again for a minute or so.

"Ennnt!" I interrupted us. "No more distracting me, my dear. I have a butt to spank."

I shifted us to have her lay across my lap on her belly. I massaged her shoulders, back, ass, and thighs. She has such a beautiful body and I like making it sing for me. And I like making her know that it's more than simple sexual gratification with her.

I smacked her one, lightly, measuring her tolerance. She made the cutest little grunt and her whole body wiggled in belated pleasure. I wanted more feedback though.

"Count for me, Sexy," I ordered. "That's one."

"One," she sounded off obediently.

I brought my hand down on her firm buns again.

"Two."

Smack.

"Three."

Smack.

"Four."

Smack.

"Five." She moaned that last one, so I gave her a short break. Her bottom stayed pinked, but without any clear handprints. The overall act of a whooping appealed to me more than inflicting any serious pain. Certainly the physical effects of a smacked ass - coloring, blood rush, nerves firing - affected her too, but she also really wanted the act.

I pushed her outside leg further outward, so that it hung off the bed. Then I tickled over her snatch, finding her pretty pussy notably more than damp. Which proportions of her arousal were caused by the striptease, making out, and spanking respectively I couldn't judge, but baby girl was extremely hot.

So, naturally, I kept spanking her.

Smack.

"One."

I moved her hair aside and leaned down to kiss the back of her neck. "Don't restart your count, Kitten. That was six."

"Six." She amended.

I began aiming more carefully.

Smack. My hand landed on the bottom of her buttocks.

"Seven."

Smack. Square on the right cheek.

"Eight."

Smack. Square on the left cheek.

"Nine."

Pop. The lightest smack, I landed the last one on her pretty pussy. I swear, it sounded wet.

"Ooooh. Ten."

I rubbed her pinked ass and leaned over her again. "Wanna get fucked now, Gorgeous?"

"Yes," she panted.

"Hop up and get my strapon from the nightstand then." I instructed, knowing she'd feel the after effects of the spanking more if she moved about.

As she retrieved the toy, I stood and gave her follow up instructions. "Sit on your heels and put it on me, Cutie."

Watching her feelings play across her face as she put weight and pressure on her spanked ass while she strapped me in was priceless.

I petted her possessively during the process. After all these years of fucking pretty girls, I still relish the surge of power as my strapon is put on me. The feeling is more powerful still when my girl straps me in.

"Lay on your back in the center of my bed, Playmate."

Despite the remote in my nightstand, I walked across my bedroom to dim the lights manually at the switch by the door. My vanity made me want to give her a good visual of my ass framed in the harness, garters, and thigh high fishnets with the high heeled boots really showing off my form. The pause also gave her a defined page break in the evening.

I walked back to her in the gloaming light, took her aviators off, and laid on top of her. I gave her a few breaths to simply feel the various textures, my hair and skin, leather and lace, the smooth, but ridged fishnets. My lips found hers in the dark, but we'd been kissing for a while and she needed more. Rather verging on desperately needy.

Feeding all eight inches of my strapon into my girl is never exactly easy and the hardest part is always feeling the agitator on my end hit my clit like a starter's pistol and still calmly and evenly pushing in. I managed, rewarded by her soft sighs of pleasure.

Then I waited for her to adjust to the fullness inside her. Her little whimpers and nips to my jaw were delicate signs that she was ready for proper fucking. Her fingers digging into my asscheeks were less subtle.

Still, I lovingly pressed my lips to hers for few more lingering seconds first, building the intimacy of the moment for us. My fingers entangled in her blonde hair as my elbows held my weight. Her caring hands slowly rubbed my shoulder blades before resting there as I finally began fucking her.

I gave her long and luxurious strokes, building her arousal in no particular hurry. She was in my bed and she'd be staying there. I fucked her like I loved her. Like I wanted her to feel each centimeter going in and out of her. Like I wanted her to climax from me loving her.

With plenty of time as she got the slow burn, I imagined what she felt. Her heated buns sliding on my slick sheets to the rhythm of my thrusts. My red bush and black garters tickling her sensitive skin. My heavy breasts and hard nipples pressing into her chest. My grunts of effort telling her how hard I worked to make her happy.

As she heard me grunt, I heard her moan. As our time lovemaking ticked slowly by in my warmth-filled bed, those moans changed in urgency and my tempo changed to match.

Her hands had moved from my back to my ass. I felt every one of her fingernails and the sweat on her palms. My speed and still long strokes forced ragged breaths desperately from her burning lungs.

"Baby, Baby, uhhhh."

"Let it cum, Pretty girl." I encouraged without slowing.

"Uhhhhhhhhh." She found her release, all the tension leaving her body in her burst of pleasure. "Thank you, Baby," my charmingly polite girlfriend whispered.

"Anytime, Gorgeous," I panted. Fucking her that fast and long left me a bit breathless, but I'd recover quickly.

I stopped and dropped on her, letting both our breathing patterns normalize before pulling out of her.~~~

After a few moments of enjoying her feeling the afterglow, I rolled off her and unstrapped and finished undressing. Our combined body heat was too great to cuddle her, but I laid right beside her on my stomach.

She gave a little moan of loneliness, then draped one arm over my slightly sweaty back and hooked one of her legs around one of my longer ones. We fell asleep that way, entwined.

Unhappily for me, I fell asleep unsated and she fell asleep drained, so I woke about an hour later feeling unacceptably horny. She was still out like a light, her fetching face serene in the grays of my darkened room.

I watched her sleep and debated consent in my head, but immediately resolved that debatable consent was not consent and not to get molest-y with my sleeping girlfriend.

Still, I wanted to take the edge off fairly badly. I had a few late night automatic situations that I could exploit, but I rejected that idea even as it occurred to me as clearly cheating. So I did something that I hadn't done in some time.

I left my own bed, disentangling myself from my lovely girlfriend, and shut myself in my bathroom to masturbate.

Seating myself on the divan, I took a breath, spread my legs, and frowned. I didn't want to take the time to fill the tub, but wasn't contented just sitting on the little couch. I shifted onto my back and looked at the ceiling. Damnit, I was annoyed.

I closed my eyes and thought of her, my sweet girl. Naked in my bed. Naked in my kitchen. Naked on a beach. On a train. In a meadow. In my office.