Ectasy on Fire

"Fuck my thumb, Steve. Fuck my thumb, my little darling," she would cry out, ramming her thumb all the way up inside his tight, hot asshole, twisting and wiggling it, and drawing it almost all the way out before plunging it back up again. This drove Steve crazy with lust.

When she felt like it, she would have Steve on his hands and knees, with his ass high up in the air. His buttocks were wide open in this position. Then Melissa would anoint his cute little asshole with Vaseline or, and this is what he preferred, her pink lipstick. Sometimes, when his tight asshole was well lubricated and responsive, his sphincter would try to suck in the lipstick, container and all.

Melissa would then suck his ass as he wiggled it against her pretty face. Sometimes she would thumb his ass until he thought he would lose his mind.

One afternoon, when Melissa came to Steve's room, she found him reading a book and brooding. Sometimes he got that way, reflective and surly. There was never any particular reason for it; he just tended toward moodiness. As Melissa often told him, this was entirely unbecoming to his otherwise pleasant demeanor.

He heard the knock on his door and he barked for whomever it was to enter. She entered, knowing from the way he'd invited her in that he was in one of his moods. She asked him what the matter was, but he did not answer, but continued to read his book. She told him that she thought it would be a good idea if he undressed. He finally looked up, a scowl on his face.

"Why?" he asked.

"Because, I think you need to be taught a lesson in manners. How to properly behave yourself around your elders, shall we say?" She gave him a good-natured wink, which alleviated a good deal of his bad mood. Steve rose and undressed, tossing his book aside.

When he was naked, Melissa also undressed slowly, as if to tease him with her deliberate movements. Then she walked toward him, as if to kiss him. When she was face to face with him, her nipples just touching his chest, her breath brushing against his brow, she told him to turn around and bend over. He looked at her, puzzled, and then complied.

He heard her move away, but she told him to stay in his position. Finally, she returned. Just as he felt her body's warmth behind him, there was a stinging blow to his buttocks. She was spanking him with a wooden paddle, once, then again, and yet again. It felt as if his buttocks were on fire, or being pierced with a million tiny pins.

"This will teach you to be petulant," she said, delivering her final and hardest blow. His body lunged forward and his arms reached behind him to soothe his burning buttocks. Melissa dropped the paddle, fell to her knees, and began to soothe his reddened flesh with her tongue. She licked the entire expanse of his buttocks and reached under them to lightly tickle his balls. Surprisingly, Steve found himself aroused by all that had just passed. His cock was hard and waving in front of him.

He turned around, pushed her backwards onto the floor, threw himself on top of her and drove his cock into her not-quite-ready cunt. He drove deeply into her, moving furiously as if to avenge himself for the pain she'd just caused him. Melissa loved the force of his fuck. She had never seen him so aroused.

She lifted her long legs and wrapped them around his waist, her heels bouncing against his back. With one final thrust, the tip of his cock knocking against the far wall of her cunt, he came violently, still feeling the fading sting of the wooden paddle against his buttocks.

Later that night, as Melissa readied herself to go to the Opera, Steve appeared in her room. She was fully dressed but Steve was naked. She got down on her knees before him where he sat in her chair, and fondled his hard cock with her white-gloved hands. Her fingers softly teased his testicles. She looked up into his eyes as he gazed down at her, careful not to mess up her hair by putting his hands in it, as he desired to do, in order to force her mouth over his throbbing cock.

"Steve," she begged. "You must understand that I cannot miss this performance of Aida"

"Well, I can."

"Yes, my darling. I know. I realize that you are not particularly interested in going with me, but Steve…"

"Yes?"

"Would you let me do something to you first?"

"Like what, Melissa?"

"Well, I don't know how to put it, but."

"C'mon, Melissa, get with it. You're all dressed. Maurice is waiting for you."

"I know, Steve," she sighed, her enthusiasm waning. She would have given anything not to have to attend the opera, but she was committed.

"Steve? Would you stand up?"

"Oh, Melissa," he whined.

"Please, baby?"