Saturday Night’s All Right For Writing

To be fair, I actually wrote this story Saturday morning, but that doesn’t fit with the song.

I rarely write on the weekends, but a couple of Saturdays ago I had an idea so I sat down and wrote it. 2900 or so words later, I had another piece for my holiday stories. Here’s some of it:

After the leather paddle, Steve used a hairbrush — every sharp pop! stung like mad — before finishing the spanking with his hand. He slid out from underneath her, kneeling behind her, and pulled down the black lace panties. Then his mouth was on her, his tongue inside her, his breath hot between her legs as his big hands took hold of her sore ass, spreading her open so he could get as much access as he wanted.

She knew what was coming next. Steve had done it before, and he would do it again. She was sure of it. But when her ass clenched around his tongue, it was just as overwhelming as the first time, and she couldn’t help crying out, her senses going haywire as he fucked her ass with his tongue even as his fingers — two of them now — pushed into her and caressed her g-spot. All that stimulation, plus the spanking, plus how she was feeling emotionally, sent her careening off a cliff, coming hard and loud and long.

Steve didn’t stop there. He flicked his tongue over her tightest, hottest opening, the nerve endings exploding with sensation, and then fucked her with it again even as he pushed hard inside her. She hadn’t expected another orgasm so soon, but there it was, and she clawed at the bedspread before grabbing her short hair, pulling it without even realizing what she was doing — at least until Steve finally drew back and the pain in her scalp made itself known. “Oh, God,” Sarah moaned. “Fuck, that was… fuck!”

“I’m not done,” he said, and Sarah heard him get to his feet. She climbed up onto the bed, her knees at the edge, her ass presented to him.

“Top drawer,” she told him. It took him almost no time at all to take off his clothes — she heard the rustling, the jingling of his belt — and get one of the condoms on, and then his thick cock was pressing against her lips. “Yes.” Her voice was already a bit hoarse. “Yes, please!”

Sarah was sure Steve wanted to fuck her hard, but he was careful, working his way into her, inch by inch. She stretched and stretched and stretched; he was so big that it hurt, but in the most delightful way, and when she finally felt him pressed up against her throbbing backside, she felt her whole body clench on him. “Fuck,” he growled.

“Yes, please,” Sarah moaned. “Fuck me, please!”

I don’t always talk about penis size when I write stories, but sometimes some characters just have larger ones than others, and it becomes important to the story. In this story, it’s important, so I mention it.

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