Thursday, January 2, 2014

Mac's Winter Spanking

     Luke let himself into the apartment. It was flooded with light and sound, but that was normal now that he lived with Mac. She seemed to switch on everything in one room and then exit to the next without turning anything off. The television was on in the living room, along with all of the lights. He could hear music playing in the kitchen and the sounds of her talking on the phone. She was cooking, he paused to sniff, no, she was burning something. He didn't care, he was starving and tired and he missed her.
     He placed his suitcase next to the couch and looked around. The apartment was freshly cleaned, she'd even put all the Christmas decorations away. Cleaning was not one of Mac's favorite things to do. Before catching his flight back to New York from LA he was treated to some salacious pictures on a tabloid website of his errant fiancee. He did not approve of public displays of intoxication, like dancing on tables. He guessed the tidied apartment and home cooked meal was supposed to get her back into his good graces.
     He walked into the kitchen. She couldn't hear him approach over the music. He walked up behind her and wrapped his arms around her waist, placing a kiss on the top of her head. She let out a startled shriek, then giggled and swatted him away, saying goodbye to the person on the phone.
      “You scared me half to death!” She was still laughing as she wrapped her arms around his neck, pulling her body close to his.
     “Sorry.” He leaned down and kissed her. He peeked past her at the pots bubbling on the stove. The counters were covered in cutting boards and spices. “What are you making?”

     “Arrgh,”she moaned. She flipped a spoon into the sink. “It started out as one thing, seriously though, thirty minute meal my ass! It took me thirty minutes to chop the freaking vegetables.”

     He leaned against the counter and listened as Mac continued her tirade about cooking times and burning cream sauces. He scooted her onto a stool at the kitchen island and began completing what she started, cleaning as he went. He opened them both a beer and shrugged off her protests that she had been trying to cook for him. If he wanted any chance at a meal that wasn't over cooked, he was smart to finish it himself.
     “You did all the hard stuff, babe. You know I hate chopping. Tell me about your day, I was cooped up on a plane all day.”
She smiled back at him and settled onto the stool, more than happy to talk rather than cook.

     Within minutes he had them tucked into some sort of pasta dish with vegetables and a light sauce. He didn't know what her original intention had been but he made them an edible dish.

     “You cleaned up. The apartment looks good,” he said between bites.
A blush crept across her cheeks and it confirmed his suspicion that she had been cleaning right up until he walked through the door. The scent of lemon pledge still hung in the air. His girl was nothing if not last minute.

     “Thanks.” She pushed her vegetables around on her plate.

     “What?” He put his fork down and picked up his beer, waiting for Mac to spill what she had on her mind.

     “I just changed my mind about writing last night. So it was my own decision and you shouldn't be upset and I think there should not be any spanking.”

     He couldn't hold in the laugh that bubbled up.

     “Stop laughing at me.” She folded her arms and glared at him.

     He took a deep breath and tried his best, but he started laughing again. Until a piece of Italian bread bounced off his head. He looked up to find Mac with a self satisfied smirk on her face.

     “You're not laughing now.”

     “Don't throw food. What are you, three?”

     She opened her mouth, already forming a snotty retort, he was sure, but she stopped when he stood up. Luke picked up his plate and walked it to the sink, he turned back and pointed at the bread on the floor.

     “Pick it up.”

     “You pick it up.” She put her hands flat on the table as if she were readying herself to run. He was in no mood for games tonight, she was torquing him up on purpose and he wasn't sure why.

     “I'm going to take a shower. Finish your dinner and come get ready for bed.”

      “What? It's early and I'm not tired.”

     “Molly.” He said her name as a warning.

     She narrowed her eyes at him but didn't respond as he walked past her towards the bedroom.

* * *
     Mac sat on the bed and pulled the comforter up around her bare legs. She just had one of Luke's t-shirts on, ready for bed as requested. She had lingered cleaning up in the kitchen as long as she could. But when she heard the shower switch off she bolted into the bedroom and shed her clothes. Now she sat waiting. What was taking him so long?

     She should have brought a book with her. Something to occupy her while she waited. She debated running into the living room for some reading material, but just then the bathroom door clicked open. Luke emerged in a cloud of steam. He had on a gray t-shirt and some black sweatpants. But the man looked delicious in everything he wore.

     He came over and pulled her up out of the bed. She shivered against the cool air in the room. He pulled the t-shirt over her head and then pulled her against him, running his hands up and down her body. She reached up and found his lips with hers, she wound her arms up around his neck but he stepped back. He glanced down at her underwear and his lips quirked in a smile.

     “What are those?”

     “It's Wonder Woman.” She smiled at him.

     “So I see.” He sat on the edge of the bed. “Take them off.”

     “Luke!” She had the urge to stomp her foot.

     He raised his eyebrows at her in response. She could tell his patience were thin. He must be tired, and this did not bode well for her argument. She hooked her thumbs in the elastic of her panties and slid them down her legs.
She shivered as his eyes raked over her body. She reflexively crossed her arms over her hardened nipples. He was dressed and she was naked, it always did something to her, a familiar heat built up. She didn't have much time to think about it because he pulled her in and flipped her across his thigh, resting her upper body on the bed. He got two hard smacks in before she found her voice.

     “Wait, stop!”

     Thankfully he paused, that normally didn't work. She scrambled for something to say.

     “I thought we were going to talk.”

     “We are.” A simple matter of fact answer followed by a set of smacks to her sit spots.

     She clawed at the comforter and uselessly tried to dodge the smacks. Did the man not understand what a warm up was? She was having a hard time keeping herself still. He stopped and rubbed the same spots he had just been punishing.

     “So let's talk.”

     She popped her head up at this and tried to push herself up. 

     He pushed her back down, “No, you stay there.”

     She huffed out a breath, she knew what this kind of 'talk' was.

     “What did you promise me when I was leaving?”

     Oh an easy question, she could do this, “That I would clean up the apartment.”

      “And you did a really good job. What else?”

     Now it got harder, “Um, that I would stay on my writing schedule.”

     “Did you?”

     “Sort of.”

     His hand smacked down on her right cheek and left a sting in it's wake. “Want to try again?”

     He laid the same stinger down on her left cheek and she cried out.

     “Okay, no, I didn't.”

     He spanked her six more times, alternating back and forth.

     “I'm allowed to change my mind, that was my own goal and I don't think you should spank me for it. I decided to stay out with Daisy, I can do that if I want to.” She sounded like a petulant child even to her own ears. She should just stop talking.

     “Oh yes, you're night out.” He spoke slowly as he caressed her naked butt. There was a touch of humor in his voice. He was enjoying this. “Let me ask you a question. Should I have to open up my computer to find pictures of my fiancee drunk table dancing?”

     She wasn't answering. She had four snappy comebacks floating around in her head and she didn't trust what would fly out if she opened her mouth. He was going to spank her no matter what she said anyway.

     He gave her two quick slaps to the backs of her thighs and she danced up on her toes.

     Nope, her lips were sealed.

     Luke slid his hand between her legs and she tensed, when his finger found the wetness between her thighs she groaned. He slowly trailed his finger along her and she writhed over his lap.

     “I asked you a question.”

     His hand was gone and she felt him pulling her cheeks apart. She jumped when she felt his finger, slicked in her own wetness, prodding at her anus.
He pushed his finger into her and she felt him up to his knuckle. “Ahh,” she moaned and lifted her head from the mattress.

     “Should I have to see that?”

     He pumped his finger in and out as he gave her smart slaps with his left hand, his non-spanking hand, so they were lighter in intensity. Her whole body felt warm from the fire he was building on her ass. She felt his hand between her legs again and he flicked her clit while he pumped his finger again.
She groaned and shifted her hips, wanting him to help her find a release.

     “Answer the question.”

     “No.” She breathed out. “You shouldn't have to see that.”

     He pulled his finger out and slid out from under her, so she was laying over the side of the bed. She heard the rustle of his clothes and then he smacked her ass, hard. She heard him slide the drawer in the night stand open. The click of the top on the bottle of lube and then he was pushing himself into her. She cried out in pleasure, feeling suddenly too full, his erection pushing past her tight ring. His hand came down and worked her clit. She arched her back, lifting herself to him, taking all of him in.

     He steadied himself with a hand on her hip, thrusting into her with an urgency she hadn't seen coming. She came in a frenzy, all of her emotions cresting, she felt tears running down her face.

     Luke collapsed onto her back, he kissed the side of her neck. “The next time you're dancing on a table it better be a private show.” He brushed her hair back from her face and turned her head to look at him. “For me.” As if she needed the clarification.

     Later still, Mac was freshly showered and snuggling into bed in Luke's arms. She was happy they had reconnected and he wasn't actually angry with her. She was just drifting off to sleep when she was jostled in his arms. He reached over her and slid the nightstand drawer open. He rummaged for a few seconds then plunked the little wooden paddle on top of the nightstand. He slid the drawer closed and settled back in.

     “Um, what's that for?”

     He pulled her closer, tucking her head under his chin. “Tomorrow. I think we need to have a talk about throwing food.”

     Mac's eyes widened as she was rocked by Luke's deep chuckle.