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The Kitchen Kink
By Alison Tyler
“This is too hard!”
“That’s what she said.”
“I am the she, James.”
“Then I must be the ‘too hard.’”
I play punched him. “I need the perfect story to kick-start my anthology, and I can’t concentrate.”
“Ah, poor baby. Are you all wet from perusing those naughty little tales?” He bent and kissed the back of my neck. “What exactly are you reading about?”
“Spanking, ball gags, whips, chains, strangers, ménages…”
“All in the same story?”
“No, not all in the same story.”
“Well, maybe that’s your problem.”
“You’d like that, wouldn’t you? Everything but the kitchen sink…”
“You mean ‘the kitchen kink.”’
“You’re not an editor,” I sighed dramatically. “You have no idea what it’s like.”
“Try me.”
I handed over a story. James began to read. “Oh, look. She’s going to get a spanking. Again. He just spanked her two seconds ago. Give the poor girl’s bare bottom a rest. She’s not going to be able to sit down for a week as it is.”
“I like that one.”
He riffled through the papers on my desk, then grabbed one and began to skim. “She’s about to blow him. But she just met him. Why would she get on her knees and open her mouth like that? She doesn’t even know his name.”
“You’re so judgmental.”
“I’m not.”
“You are.”
“I still don’t understand the issue.”
“I’ve read over a hundred stories, and I’m in that shuffling place. I keep reorganizing—this story should be at the front, this one should be near the end, this is perfect for the middle. But now I’m all conflicted.”
“Maybe I can help.”
I stared down at the papers strewn over my desk. “What do you mean?”
“You’re too close to all this smut. What you need is for me to put you over my lap, give you a nice, hard spanking, make you blow me, tie you down to the bed, and fuck you senseless. Perhaps if I do my job correctly you’ll even forget my name.”
“Tempting, but I have a big deadline.”
“That’s what she said,” he smirked. “But I’ve got something even bigger…” He put my hand on his cock, which I could feel was hard through his Levi’s.
“James, I’m working.”
“Not anymore.” He pulled the chair back from my desk.
“Look at all the stories I have to read.”
“They’ll wait.”
I pointed to the calendar. “My book is due in less than two weeks.”
“Two weeks is a long fucking time.”
He started unbuckling his belt. I set the red pen on the desk. “I guess I could take a short break.”
James grinned and helped me out of my chair.
“But I don’t need a spanking.”
“I’ll decide that,” he said, leading me into the kitchen. I watched as he sat down on one of our wooden chairs, and then I waited. Was he right? Was I so aroused from reading sexy stories that I couldn’t make any headway? And would a spanking actually clear my head or would it only heat my ass?
I was about to find out.
James pulled me over his lap and stroked my rear with one of his big, strong hands. “Are your panties wet from reading the stories or thinking about the spanking I’m going to give you?”
“Both,” I told him honestly.
He let his hand land on my bottom. I didn’t pretend to squeal or twitch. There was no true pain in this type of smack. But then he pushed my yoga pants down my thighs and began to stroke my panty-clad ass. I grew very still. He pulled down my bikini briefs next and started to spank me hard and fast on my bare skin. And what was that? He’d grabbed hold of a wooden spoon. In seconds, all thoughts of work evaporated, so when he asked, “Now, what were you complaining about before?” I had no idea what he was talking about.
“I don’t know,” I murmured.
He spanked me until my ass felt hot and swollen, and then he pushed me down in front of him. “Open your mouth.” He cradled my face with one hand, and I parted my lips. James stood, and I raised myself up on my knees and began to suck his cock. “That’s a good little editor,” he crooned. “Make my cock all nice and wet. You know where it’s going to go.”
My mind stuttered, but I kept my mouth busy.
“I just have to remember where I put the cuffs.”
Christ, he really was going to prove a point, wasn’t he? “They’re in the drawer by the dresser,” I said when I took a breather.
“Good girl.” He pulled away from me and went to get the tools. In seconds, I had my hands cuffed over my head,and James was bending me over the Corian countertop. He’d gotten the lube as well as the cuffs, and I felt him drizzle the slick stuff between the cheeks of my ass.
First, he fucked my pussy. “Damn, you’re wet.” He thrust hard and fast, and I shut my eyes tight, my body practically humming with pleasure. But right when I was on the cusp, he pulled out and pressed the head of his cock against my asshole. I shivered and sucked in my breath.
“Relax, baby. It only works if you submit.”
He was right. His words unlocked me. Calmness stole over my body—the sensation of giving in always brings me peace.
As James drove forward, he said, “Now, what was your problem?”
“I don’t have any problems,” I panted.
He let one hand rest under my body, giving my clit the perfect amount of pressure. “You were all confused.”
I shook my head. Not anymore.
He stroked my clit as he fucked my ass. Being touched like that was overwhelming. I closed my eyes tight and held my breath. I could sense James getting closer, and I willed myself to come with him. James began to slide in and out of me at a quick clip.
“I’m going to…” I whispered.
“Do it,” he hissed back.
I collapsed against the smooth, cool counter, aware of how flushed I felt, my breathing ragged, my body shaking. James held on to me, his arms tight around my body, and then he undid the cuffs, rubbed my wrists and carried me to the bathroom for a shower.
“Now you can go back and try to choose your opening piece,” James said as he turned on the hot water.
“I think I found what exactly I was looking for,” I told him with a smile.
Hare Coursing
By Janine Ashbless
“What sort of a girl do you think I am?” she asked, slightly shocked.
“The prettiest one here,” said Brandon, who played guitar and electric double bass. He curled a stray lock of her long hair around his finger.
“Fun. Smart. Sexy,” added Erik. He was the lead singer of the duo.
“And just a little bit drunk,” Brandon added.
“I’d have to be completely bladdered to go with both of you!” she reprimanded, giggling. “That’s just so…slutty.”
“Slutty. What does that mean? That you’re not choosey? Which of us is the ugly one, then?
She gave them a sarcastic look over the top of her wineglass. They were both handsome—and they knew it. Handsome, and talented enough to be headed a lot further than playing for her great-aunt Elsie’s sixtieth birthday party. Their set had easily been the entertainment highlight of the evening. Now, out in the club parking lot, at the very edge of the light, all three of them were missing the buffet dinner. “Don’t be daft.”
“Don’t you think Erik’s hot?”
She lifted a brow. “He’s not bad, I suppose.”
“What about me?”
Both the men flanking her were as lean and fit as hounds, and they’d been flirting with her for half an hour now. She’d once seen a pair of dogs chasing a hare like that: one at each shoulder. “You’re okay, too.”
“Which one of us do you want to disappoint, then?”
“Maybe,” she said chirpily, “I want to disappoint you both.”
“Oh…I’m sure that’s not true.”
“Are you wanting us to fight over you?” Erik’s grin suggested he was not in a fighting mood. His fingertips had been on the small of her back for the last ten minutes, stroking her gently through her party dress. She hadn’t objected.
“Now that’s an idea.” Her tone was pert.
“Winner takes all?” Brandon’s voice dropped to a sexy growl. He ran the back of his finger over her cheek and she flushed.
“You’d like to see two guys fight for the right to fuck you?”
“Oh,” she protested, not quite happy with Erik’s choice of words but finding the discomfort compelling.
“Stripped down, maybe? D’you want to watch us wrestle? That’s pretty kinky of you.”
“I’d win, of course,” Brandon pointed out.
“Feck off,” laughed Erik. “Don’t listen to him. I’d kick his butt.”
“But it’d be a pity to waste so much energy, wouldn’t it? When there are so much better ways to spend it.”
“Make love, not war, eh?”
“You guys are bad!” She squirmed happily.
“I mean, think of the possibilities. Two men. That’s two mouths kissing you, love. Four hands, touching you all over. Two big solid cocks for you to ride as long as you liked.”
She shivered.
Brandon leaned in and kissed her cheek softly. “Two men sucking your breasts at once,” he whispered.
“A hand on your hot button,” Erik murmured in her other ear, tickling her with his warm breath. “Another up your sweet, wet pussy. Two others on your ass, stroking you in all the right places.”
“Oh!” she said, her body full of heat and confusion. With a man at either side and the wall of a flowerbed behind her rump, it was impossible to turn away.
“D’you like the sound of that?” Brandon asked. The lift of his hand drew her attention down to where her nipple had pebbled against the thin cloth of her dress. “It looks like you like it.” One finger circled the stiff point delicately, sending tingles of pleasure through her flesh. She stared, mesmerized—and then Erik turned her face toward him and kissed her, just as softly, his tongue brushing against hers in time to the other man’s caress of her tit.
No matter how the hare had zigzagged from side to side, there was always a hound there.
“Um,” she gasped, pulling back after a long moment. “We shouldn’t.”
“You’re right. You might drop your glass. Here—let me take that.” Erik slipped it from her unresisting fingers and planted it in the earth behind her. His body leaned in against hers as he moved, and she felt the hard jut of his erection. She knew she should be protesting. But Brandon still had her right nipple, flicking it, and she couldn’t think past that thrill of sensation.
“Please,” she said incoherently, turning to that man—and then it was his turn to kiss her. His mouth was smoky with rolling tobacco, his tongue warm and slow. She felt Erik cup her left breast, too, and a moan rose from the depths of her being.
“There,” Brandon said when he had finished kissing away her words and her breath. “Now, you did like that.”
