Jared's scheme to rid trophy-wife Tabitha of her step-daughter's blackmailing influence is reaching its raunchy naked climax...
At least Sorrel did not have to bend too far to access the head of the towering phallus, Tabitha thought. She stared in bizarre fascination as her step-daughter gobbled Jared into her mouth and guzzled busily on him, hamstrings stretched tautly and bum thrusting behind. Tabitha had never considered herself a malicious person, but a unique sense of triumph welled up within her. That’s me you can taste on him, sweetheart—suck up the flavour of defeat.
“Get out the bath,” Jared ordered Tabitha, as he pressed Sorrel down onto himself. She did not hesitate in response to his command, so committed was she now to whatever he had in mind. “Good—now spank her.” The instruction shocked her. From the widening of Sorrel’s eyes as she sucked, her step-daughter was even more taken aback. “You heard me.” Jared’s eyes shot a challenge. “This brat needs taking in hand. Now, are you finally gonna do it?”
Well, when he put it like that … Sorrel’s out-thrust rear was simply begging to be punished. Tabitha strolled behind the dimpled ass of her tormentor, looking around for some implement with which she could apply the punishment; there was nothing, unfortunately, of which to avail herself. Oh well—skin on skin it would have to be. She caught Jared’s glance and a sly understanding passed between them, right before she whacked her step-daughter’s ass for the first time.
Sorrel’s squeak of outrage was muffled by the cock that filled her mouth. The sound was so gratifying that Tabitha spanked again, the splat of hand on soapy bum-cheek enhanced by the bathroom acoustic. Nice. After that it was easy—she used her hand like a flail, landing smacks all over the bratty girl’s quivering behind, enjoying the moans on each impact and the way Jared held the girl firmly in place. The fundamental weirdness of the situation was held in check by the sheer sense of a wrong being righted, of justice being served with each hard spank on that pert and tight-stretched rump.
Jared, it seemed, had no issue with the weird factor. “See it as parenting,” he said, as he compelled Sorrel to slurp on his dick. “I’m her fuckin’ daddy right now and step-mom gets to show her the discipline she needs, right?”
So wrong—and yet so undeniably fucking right.
A year’s worth of subservience to Sorrel’s grinning wiles drove Tabitha’s response. She took her time with each swipe, making sure she connected squarely with one cheek or the other and loving how the bathroom acoustic enhanced the sound of each slap. A nice rosy glow would complement that honey-blond complexion. As for Jared, the bastard deserved proper payment. With that in mind, she grabbed Sorrel’s hair and plunged the girl down onto Jared’s shaft until she gagged. Go on, make him fucking happy. I want this guy to have the time of his life. When finally she dragged that pretty blond head off him, that mouth was dripping saliva in place of spitefulness. Tabitha was shocked to find that much spite inside herself.
“Nice work, mom,” Jared said, gripping Sorrel’s head and taking over smoothly. He shoved the girl onto himself once more as though to reinforce the lesson, holding her there while she gurgled. “There.” Finally, he pulled her free and looked into her face with mock-sternness. “Okay, sweetheart—you start playing with yourself right now and listen to what I have to say. Oh, and lick my cock while you listen. Tabitha, slow down on the spanking but don’t stop it. Don’t stop it till she comes.”
From what Tabitha could see Sorrel was all attention, her tongue wriggling against Jared’s glans as he scolded and one hand working busily between her thighs. In her proactive step-mom role she applied occasional but firm ass-slaps—all through the monologue. “Now, you’ve been one very bad step-daughter,” the gardener told his temporary charge. “Whatever you think of your step-mom here and what she did, you’ve been a naughty opportunist with your camera and all those sly threats. Don’t forget I heard some of them and now I know what they were all about. Not an honest way to go about things, was it?”
Sorrel shook her head, tongue not breaking contact. Whatever she was thinking, her masturbation increased in vigour. “Being protective of your Daddy is one thing. But using information for your own advantage like that is a whole different game. Well this is karma visiting your hot little blackmailing ass—you get that, right?” Tabitha let fall a particularly stinging smack on the ass under discussion, one she hoped would make Sorrel’s eyes water. The recipient jolted in response but still nodded at Jared’s question. “So I want you to promise me now,” her kinky father-figure continued, “that you’re never gonna try that shit again. That as long as you and her are shacked up in this house you’ll keep out of her way same as she’ll keep out of yours. ‘Cos so long as you keep your footage to yourself, she’ll do the same with what I’ve sent to her, right Mommy?” He glanced at Tabitha.
“Right,” she said, delivering another satisfying thwack.
Sorrel swallowed her squeal. Somehow she managed to force out what concerned her, through all the stimulation she was experiencing. “How do I know? That she’ll never let anyone see it? That you won’t?”
“There’s some shit I just don’t do,” Jared told her, making her suck his cock again. “I got nuthin’ against you, baby, but I’m rightin’ a wrong here. And as for Step-mommy here …” He looked at Tabitha and she felt the weight behind his stare. “If she lets anyone else see, unless you’ve gone and done the same, that is, I’ll find her and thrash her ass redder than a fuckin’ radish. Understood, Mom?”
In that moment Tabitha didn’t doubt that he would. These were Jared’s rules and if they worked, she was fine with them. “Understood,” she said.
“So,” Jared inquired, looking deep into Sorrel’s eyes as her mouth savoured him, “do you promise to behave from now on?” He withdrew from her mouth so she could respond.
“Yes,” she said meekly.
“That’s ‘Yes, Daddy’.”
This time there was a pissed-off edge to her reply. “Yes, Daddy.”
“Good. Now get yourself off and think yourself lucky I’m letting you.”
Sorrel fellated and frigged and took her slaps from behind like a good girl. It did not take long. Horniness swept aside all else she might have been feeling and she went wild on her clit, rubbing herself into a thrashing hysteria. You’re damned lucky, Tabitha thought, enjoying the girl’s sorry abandon as she came long and hard. By the time orgasm was done with Sorrel was a panting mess between her two surrogate parents.
Jared gave her a moment to recover her breath, before reaching down with both hands and dredging her up from the floor. “You’re one hot piece of ass,” he told her with a fingertip to her chin. “Trade off it all you like, but don’t be a bitch to your step-mom again, you hear?”
Sorrel nodded.
“Now, pick up your stuff and get that sore ass out of here before I make it sting even more. Set it down in the car seat and go drive. That lingerie’s a gift by the way. Wear it and think of me.”
She obeyed without a word or a glance at either of them, scrabbling her bits and pieces from the floor with her bum-cheeks glowing red and ejaculate trickling down her thighs. Her impulse was to scuttle for the door, but she gathered up some of her poise at the last, throwing her hair back and managing a defiant strut. Jared reached out however and whacked her naked ass; the resonant splat of hand on wet bum-flesh was accompanied by an undignified squeal and Sorrel scurried the rest of the way. The door slammed and Tabitha took satisfaction imaging the dawning fury on her step-daughter’s face at that moment, fingers curling tight into fists.
She went to speak, but Jared put a finger to his lips. Together they paused until the stomping of feet could be heard on a downstairs descent. A hastily-dressed Sorrel was departing as rapidly as she could carry herself. The front door slammed with even more force than the bathroom one had done.
Jared had been lazily palming his erection the whole time. Christ, did that thing never go soft? “And that,” he said, rising from the bath’s rim and strolling to his partner-in-cunning with his cock still in hand, “is how to school a brat.”
“You did it so well—I’m guessing that’s not the first time.”
“It’s always a special kind of fun.”
“You were kind though,” she remarked as they drew together, his elevated cock brushing her stomach. “I wouldn’t have let her come.”
“Hey, I’m not that cruel. I always give a little bit of sugar—along with the spice.” On the final word, his hands came down on Tabitha’s ass cheeks, bouncing off them in a double-smack.
“Owww! Fuck! What was that for?”
Jared grappled her to him with his hands tight on her smarting bottom, his eyes glinting with enjoyment. “Guess I got to thinking about bratty girls who need teaching a lesson.”
On principle, Tabitha grabbed hold of his arms and tried to break free so she could slap his infuriating face with the force it deserved. His erection shifted against her lower belly as she struggled, reminding her of how wet she was for him. “I’m not the brat, she is!”
“Are you sure about that?” His arms girdled her waist and she indulged in a kind of wrestling match with him, the experience far from disagreeable. “Are you sure you don’t want punishing?” His lips found hers and the mouth-to-mouth caress, tender like that of a true lover, calmed her. He had such a way of doing that and it worked every time.
“You think I’m a brat then?” she asked, their lips still brushing. “You think I need punishing?” The words were breathless, her heart pounding as she spoke them.
“It’s not what I think,” he said, his lips murmuring at her ear. “It’s what I heard from you. Yesterday when you told me your story … I think you think you need punishing, for all the mistakes you made. Tell me if I’m wrong.”
Tabitha knew the truth of it. Her confession to him had been heartfelt, the culmination of self-punishment that had been going on for over a year now. Well, there were better, more cathartic ways in which a girl could atone for her mistakes than fretting about them. “You’re not wrong,” she said, her hands now kneading the muscles of his upper arms. “In fact, you’re dead right. I’ve been a brat, Jared. An unconscionable brat.” She whispered the fateful words into his ear. “And this brat needs punishing.”
In the distance, the wheels of Sorrel’s car were tearing up gravel on the Cranleigh Manor driveway, as the girl made her escape. “No more interruptions,” Jared said, his palms following the slope of her back to her firm ass. “You’re gonna get exactly what you need.”
Fuck, I don’t doubt it. This guy was good to his word. Tabitha hooked her hands behind his neck and tried to disguise her trembling. “One request please?”
“Let’s hear it.”
“Give it to me in my husband’s bed.”
“Tabitha girl, I love the way you think.” His kiss to her neck made her gasp. She had only regained the facility to breathe when he grabbed a fistful of hair and smacked her soundly on the ass with the other hand. Owww. Shit. “Bedtime?” he asked, his jaw steely.
“Uh-huh,” was all she could manage in the aftermath of the spank.
“Then lead the way.” He sustained a firm grip on her hair, so that there’d be no scampering free of his chastisement on her ass-cheeks as they proceeded from bathroom to boudoir. Her horny bastard reined her close to him the whole distance, his spade-calloused hand applying meaty slaps to her rear, each one of which made her yelp. The hard-dicked fucker was loving this, getting off on her shocked excitement, knowing how sopping-wet she was from everything he did.
He let go of her hair once in the room and spun her around, letting her sway and gasp before him as her backside smarted. She had no idea what his next move would be, but she knew it would drive her fucking wild. He was all instinct, this man. Did he even know the effect he had? Whatever the answer, Tabitha was supremely glad to be in his power. All the glossy trappings of the bedroom she shared with Grant Chesterfield meant nothing to her now. Bring it on, you fucking Wildman.
He brought it all right, by slapping a hand to her well-spanked bottom and dragging her into a hard full-body clinch. His mouth crushed itself to hers, hand closing on the back of her neck to seal their mouths together. Her tongue wagged in surrender against his and her hands clung to the muscles of his back. When they broke for air her delirium had increased. His hand, grabbing hold of her breast and moulding slowly, did nothing to clear her head.
“I don’t go looking to fuck married women,” he told her bluntly, “but I do enjoy it when it happens, shafting them behind their asshole husbands’ backs. And I’m going to take a special pleasure in fucking you, Mrs Chesterfield.”
“I thought you’d already fucked me.”
“Call that a fuck? I call it a warm-up.” He lifted her like a doll for all her five foot nine and she wrapped her limbs instinctively around the naked iron of his body. His gaze drilled her all the way to the bedside. “On hubby’s mattress?”
“Yes,” she said, gulping down her trepidation. “Hard. Hard as you like.”
“I like very hard.” He flung her onto the crisp linen surface and she bounced there on her back, splayed wide open before him. She was still brushing the hair from her face when he gripped her by the thighs and pulled her to the edge of the bed, his cock spearing the air above her stomach. Jesus, it looked even more vast from this angle. Tabitha marveled that he could find room for it inside her.
And here Jared was, about to achieve the feat all over again. He was directing and fitting his length to her ready pussy, his face dark with anticipation. Her own was every bit as fevered, she was sure. “Got a good view?” he asked.
“Mm-hmm.” That she most definitely had. She glimpsed it for a moment as he thrust, a vision of that great fuck-shaft storming all the way inside her. Then her head was flung back as it slammed tight and her other senses took over. Her body succumbed to the sheer physical sensation of the man, all her dimensions put to the test as that massive extension pumped her. The beauty and obscenity of the squelch, as cock reamed out wet cunt, the scent of her own excitement as he churned up the juice inside her and drew it out on each long retraction … And then when she found the wherewithal to look up again with her fingers clutching the covers for support, there he was standing tall between her legs—a great tattooed Tarzan who gripped her thighs, gritted his jaw and drove in each time like both their lives were staked on it. His wet hair fell in thick strands about his face and his muscles knotted on every concerted thrust.
He’d been admiring his own progress in and out, but glanced up at her, the faintest trace of a smile on his face. “That punishing enough?”
She tried to respond, but her jaw simply sagged, her gaze scarcely managing to stay on his face.
He climbed on top of her still tight inside and slipped a hand behind her head. “How about this?” The stroke he leveled inside her was long, hard, and searching, causing her body to jolt on impact. It was the first of many, equally demanding, and soon it felt like every part of her was being fucked.
She stared into his face as he shafted, and saw absolute purity of lust. There was no anger here, no vengeance, for all his bravado about shagging the married woman. This was a gift to her—one that satisfied his own rampant libido, true—but a gift nonetheless. Her hand shot up and grabbed his shaggy locks as he buried one particularly deep thrust. “Fuck! Give it … Give it … Please …”
He pulled her face to his and kissed her hard. “Beats confession, doesn’t it?” he said.
“Hell yes.”
He gripped her body and sped up the motion, gunning a long hard volley of strokes into her, as all the while she clutched him and screamed, her head lolling back on the covers. Christ, her cunt was being properly wrecked, and she was the one loving it now. Then with no prior indication of intent, he dragged her to the end of the bed and lifted her up with hands clasped to her back. She was sitting on his thick insertion now, her legs wrapped desperately around his lower back. Holy hell, the strength of the man …
She found herself being carried in reverse, gripping her gorgeous ravisher around the neck and willing him to sustain this crazy interlude. Her ass landed on the edge of the dresser’s polished teak with a gentle thud and he let her encircle him with her limbs, heels resting on the upper swell of his ass, before he set about her cunt with his cock all over again. The penetration, while still deep, was tempered this time, his hold of her body softer. He was taking the time to savour the clutch and slither of her pussy on his cock. “Bedroom hasn’t seen this much action in a while, has it?” he said.
