Chapter 11: Mr. Griffin Caught Me 004

His hand still encircles my wrist, and without warning he pulls me down on top of his lap. I’m not prepared for it, and I kind of fall awkwardly, totally off balance. I’m splayed out on top of him, and he grips me by the juncture of my bare ass and my leg and roughly shifts me on his lap so my breasts are over his leg, my ass is in the air, and I can’t quite get my feet firmly on the ground.

“Stop squirming!”

His voice cracks like a whip, and before I’ve made a conscious decision I’ve already stopped moving. I steady myself with my arms against the chair, and now that I’m not in immediate danger of falling to the ground, I’m only conscious of one thing: my ass in the air, my legs slightly spread, and my wet pussy exposed.

He can see my pussy.

The thought drives me wild. I actually giggle, kind of deliriously, and arch my back, wiggling my ass at him a little. I want him to do something, anything, I want to feel his hands on my breasts again, I want –

With a loud slap, he smacks the bottom of my ass, hard, so I feel it shudder on my lower lips. Open palmed, fingers gripping. Again: slap! I’m open mouthed and wide eyed in shock. I guess I knew this was coming, but it’s still new, still – no time; slap! It’s starting to hurt a little, but I want his hand there. I squirm a little, and he palms my pussy, gripping it, and puts the flat of his other hand on the back of my neck, making me still, and I swear to God I almost come a little right there. Just instant electricity to my cunt. My whole body feels like it’s on fire.

“Yes,” I say, my breath ragged.

“What’s that, Erica?”

“Yes!”

There’s a pause, and I can distinctly feel his dick poking into my ribcage. He’s hard, getting harder.

“You haven’t been sufficiently punished.” He finally says, and before I can agree, he’s hit me again, harder this time, hard enough that I know I’ll bruise. I yelp, and the next blow jiggles me forward, and my cunt clenches around the tension building there. I’ve never felt anything like this before, never had the pain and pleasure wires go crossed. Maybe it’s just because I was never with someone who knew what they were doing, but I suddenly want Mr. Griffin to do whatever. He. Wants.

His other, non-spanking hand finds my breasts again, and leisurely plays with them while he increases the spanking tempo. I’m sure my ass is cherry red, and I’m so close to coming that I angle my pussy towards him as much as possible.

“What do you say, Erica?”

He spanks me again, lower down, closer to my aching, hungry cunt.

“What do you say?”

I’m arching my back as much as I can, desperate to feel his hand on my pussy, straining towards him. He spanks it.

“I’m sorry!” I squeal.

I am not at all sorry.

“What do you say, Erica?”

He spanks my pussy again. I think his hand comes away wet.

“I’m sorry, sir!”

And he spanks me again, only this time he leaves his hand there and quickly buries two fingers into me. I moan like an animal as he starts to fuck me with those fingers, his other hand still playing with my breasts. The sensation swirls around in me, the eye of it focused on his fingers moving in and out of me with increasing pressure.

“Good girl.” He says.

He starts to fuck me harder, faster, deeper with those fingers, and I’m helpless underneath his hand. I start to buck back at him, and I can feel his hard on pressing into my ribcage, and fuck, all I want is to come on his hand so hard, when he pulls his fingers back, resting his hand between my legs, teasing me.

“Please.” I manage to choke out, confused and desperate.

He spanks me again, hard.

“You don’t get to come yet.” He says, and I can hear the smile on his lips. Part of me thinks: you bastard. But the rest of me is eager to do whatever he tells me to. It’s the weirdest conflict, like the conflict between pleasure and pain, and both have me flying high as freaking kite.

“Get on your knees.” He commands, and I obey as quickly as I can. I’m still awkward, but soon I’m kneeling before him, my breasts hanging out of my useless blouse, and I’m eye level with the impressive bulge in his pants.

Suddenly I know what I want to do.

And I know how to do it.

“May I suck you?” I ask with exaggerated submissiveness. “Sir?”

I hear his intake of breath, a quick hiss, and I know I’ve hit the mark. Two can play at this game, Mr. Griffin. Plus maybe I can get him to fuck me again if I suck him as well as I want to. Double win.

“You may.” His tone is even, controlled. Let’s see what I can do about that.

I let my hands rove up his pant leg, massaging his raging dick through the soft material on my way to his zipper. He doesn’t betray any emotion, not even a flicker of feeling.

I unzip his slacks slowly, looking up at his impassive face. I’ll be damned if I don’t get a reaction out of him. I look back down just in time to see his swollen cock spring from the side of his leg and tent his boxer shorts.

I really would have guessed briefs.

I work his cock through and push the material down around it, and wow, is it truly impressive. I didn’t get a good look at Danny’s before he took me from behind, not a half hour ago, but this one...this one is dreamy. Thick, and with a slight upward curve that will feel fantastic, the purple head already seeping a little precum – which is how I know I have gotten to him.

He has the same thought.

He grabs me by the back of my hair and lifts my head up while he scoots forward in the chair.

“Open.” Is all he says.

I do, and he pushes his dick into my mouth, hardly giving me any time to lave the head with my tongue, to feel the ridges and textures of his skin, to suck properly on his dick, before he’s pressing further into my mouth, to the back of my throat.

“Suck.”

I do, I suck as best I can while he proceeds to fuck my mouth, in short, shallow little strokes, rocking his hips as much as he can. He hits the back of my throat one, two, three times, and it’s a good thing I don’t really have much of a gag reflex anymore. Still, my eyes are watering, and I’m getting creative with my breathing.

But I love that he’s fucking my mouth.

That he’s controlling the rhythm.

That he’s controlling everything.

I’m just getting the hang of his rhythm, really starting to put my whole mouth into it, when suddenly he stops and pulls out, leaving the tip of his dick tantalizingly in front of my face. I look up beseechingly.

His face is red. There are veins in his forehead.

Ha.

“Get up.” He orders.

I do. I’m standing at his knees, my panties on the floor somewhere, my skirt disheveled, my blouse open to my naked breasts.

“Take those clothes off.”

Oh, baby. I try not to show my eagerness. There’s something about being completely nude in a public place, and there’s something about being completely naked in front of a fully clothed man, and put them together...my pussy aches for him again. It never really stopped.