As she put her clothes aside, he held up a hand, feeling a little playful. “No. Put the apron back on. Wear just the apron and shoes.”
“Oh my…” she said. “Feeling like spanking June Cleaver, are you?”
He laughed, but followed it with what he hoped was a stern frown. “Go stand in the corner.”
A dark eyebrow arched a little higher. “The corner? Why?”
“I’m irritated with you for being so prideful about that bill.”
“That again? Okay. I accept your offer. It’ll make life easier for my family.” She put both hands on her nude hips, framing the incongruous apron. Her breasts jiggled as she moved. “Now will you spank me?”
Although his cock was becoming painful, Deuce wanted to make a point, and he was having fun baiting her. It wasn’t noble of him, he knew, but it was harmless and might teach her a thing or two. “No. Go stand in the corner.” He tilted his head toward the corner where the refrigerator met the wall.
She stomped a foot. “No!”
“Okay, sugar. Dinner smelled good. Too bad I can’t stay to eat… it.”
“Don’t you dare leave!”
My, my, she was in a mood to get quite a comeuppance. “Are you ordering me again?”
Her gaze went to the bulge in his pants and then back to his face. Her tongue snuck out and slid across her lower lip, but it was obvious she didn’t realize what she was doing. “No… I… ”
Deuce’s erection was killing him, but he went on. “Stop being such a bad girl, Pilar. Go stand in the corner or I’ll leave.”
Sighing with resignation, she moved to the corner and stood facing it. “Like this?”
“Exactly like that. But put your hands on the back of your head and spread your legs wider.”
A flush stole over her body, adding a pink tone to her café au lait skin. “You’re trying to humiliate me, aren’t you?”
“Embarrass you, yeah. Punish you a bit, yeah. Humiliate you? I like you the way you are. I’m not interested in a doormat.”
She wove her fingers together at the back of her head. It was amusing seeing her there with the apron lace framing her hips and its strings hanging down over the crack of her ass. As she slid her legs apart, the shiny lips of her pussy peeked out. Their moisture glinted at him like a wink. He nearly groaned.
“How long do I have to stand here? The enchiladas will be done pretty soon.”
Deuce might have some trouble keeping his hands off her, but he looked at his watch and noted the time. “Five minutes. And be quiet. No more talking.”
She huffed, but didn’t say another word.
By the time the five minutes was up, Deuce thought he might be dying from too much blood to the penis.
“Time’s up,” he told her. “Go put your hands back on the counter.”
She did as he told her, but tried to wheedle. “Deuce… ”
“You want somethin’, sugar?”
“Come on, Deuce. Spank me. Hard.”
He slid his hand over her rump then down between her cheeks and against her soaked pussy. “No.”
She groaned and wriggled more. “You’re teasing me-ah!” He thrust a finger in her and her body grasped and held tight. He used a second finger. She was tight and hot inside. He wanted his cock in there badly, and her panting was like a seductive siren’s song. “Come on, spank-man, do your thing. I’m ready for you!”
He chuckled. She was definitely ready. “Be good, sugar, or there’ll be no spankin’ or fuckin’ tonight.”
Her shoulders sagged and her head dropped to the counter. “Okay. I’ll be good.”
“Spread your legs a li’l more.” He said it more to make the point that she was to submit to his will than because he wanted to stare at her pussy more, though the sight made him even harder–a thing he wouldn’t have thought could be possible.
She obeyed, and he pulled his surprise from his pocket, shaking the short whip out to its full length, about as long as his forearm.
“A whip?” she said with some combination of surprise and wonder as she peered over her shoulder.
“A quirt. Braided leather with a rope core. Two short tails.” He stepped back a pace. “My father made it for me for casual horse races in high school.”
“For horses?”
The quirt made a little snapping sound against his pant leg and she flinched. “You want me to ride you like a filly, don’t you?”
Once more, that sweet flush crept up her back. “Yes… yes.”
Deuce didn’t say another word, he pulled back his arm and flicked the tails over her gorgeous ass. They snapped sharply on her flesh and she made a surprised noise. Twice more he flicked it, each stroke getting a little harder.
Pilar cursed in Spanish, but wiggled her butt, asking for more.
“Watch your tongue, woman,” he scolded in that same language.
“I’d like to watch my tongue on you, hombre,” she said on a moan as the whip struck her again several times.
She was humming with pleasure, and the blows were making her gasp.
“Oh yes,” she coaxed.
It didn’t take much to encourage him. The whip made raised crescent-shaped welts on her smooth behind. Every mark inflamed her further and she began to cry out, getting louder as he continued to strike her wiggling rear.
When she had a score of perfectly-placed wheals on her butt, Deuce threw the quirt aside and unfastened his belt and pants, letting them hang from his hips as he freed his aching cock.
The cool air on his tortured flesh felt fantastic, but it was something much warmer that he really wanted. Her pussy was so wet it was nearly dripping down her legs. He touched her gently and pushed two fingers deep into her body. Tight muscles welcomed him and Pilar groaned and pressed back against the penetration.
Her voice was thick, her Spanish colloquial. “Fuck me.”
“That’s what I’m fixin’ to do, sugar.”
He reached into his pocket and withdrew a foil wrapper, opened it and fitted the condom on himself. There was no hesitation between the act and the forceful slide of his cock into her pussy.
“Yes, yes, yes.”
“I hear you,” he growled, rocking his pelvis to slam himself deeper and harder.
The feeling was intense, and her squirming against him only made it more so.
“Dios,” she cried, her little screams of pleasure getting louder. “I’m going to come!”
“Do it, sugar.”
Crying out sharply, she arched her rear up and slammed back into his groin. He took the hit, planting his feet more firmly, as all her internal muscles contracted around him rhythmically, calling for his release.
She was gasping and moaning, but he continued to pummel her until she rose on a second wave. Pilar screamed his name and spasmed in pleasure and he finally let himself go, shooting hard into the latex receptacle with a harsh growl.
“Deuce, Deuce, Deuce,” she gasped, her voice low and growing softer.
He reached for her hair and gave it a playful little tug, catching his breath. There was a sound from the living room.
“Chica, I think there’s someone at your door.”