Study Break

by Dice


Trying to tell yourself you shouldn't fall for my devious tricks? Hm, I know that look - you think that if you concentrate hard enough on that text I'll go away, I'll grow tired of sitting here watching you.

Only one problem - I'll never grow tired of watching you. Whatever you do whatever you say, I'll bite my lip and try not to smile too much, 'cos what if someone saw?

I pull on your sock - it's white and has Winnie The Pooh on the side. You're feet are so small, I run a finger over the sole and you kick the air. I giggle at you, and your brow twitch in that cute, serious way. You know you want what I want - give up! I try pulling the sock a little further down and when you lift your foot again it comes off.

You call me hopeless and I only grin, you look at me in the mirror and sigh.

I tickle your ankle, my fingers going up the leg of your jeans and you bite your pen and close your eyes. Go away, Jen, go wash the dishes, you say and I pinch you. Why are you too busy for me?

When I reach for your other sock you've had it. You roll over and get up, my face brightens and pales at the same time - my heart stops for two reasons, conflicting and concurring reasons. But you grab my arm and put me outside the door closing it cruelly.

You're a boring bitch! I don't quite say that. I complain that I'm bored instead and hear your voice telling me to wash the dishes.

I go out in the kitchen and turn the faucet to its fullest and get soaked of course. I swear loudly and hear you laugh - you knew I'd do it! In a new fit of defiance I undress and go back into the bedroom where you are, flaunting round, full breasts in white unpretentious b-cups. The little ring you were so mad about shining in my navel.

You groan and I know I get to you. Out-out-out! You toss a pillow at me and I toss it back - we end up wrestling and you come out on top. It's where you belong it's where I want you. But you, you stupid, teasing, siren - you rise and throw a dry sweater at me.

Argh!

You're back on the bed. Who does their studying on a bed anyway? Beds are made for other things! I rip your book away and toss it to the other side of the room.

Oops, no, no! No! You weren't supposed to become that angry - slow down, I just wanted you a little angry.

You pull my tight, short skirt up around my waist and me down across your lap. How can it be that we're the same size, me actually a bit taller and you still manage to appear so much more forceful?

Your hand slaps over my panties - why do I wear string again? It hurts so much tears fill my eyes... this isn't fun it's not playful. You spank hard. The sound of slaps and my sobbing breath fill an otherwise silent room. I don't want my mascara to run, but the tears keep coming - why did I go that far?

I feel the metal of the ring I gave you for your birthday as you gently stroke my pink cheeks, you slap again. Then you caress me, your hand between my thighs and I shudder. Not at all prepared I jump and cry out when you smack again harder than before.

You're going so slow now - it's erotic and you know I think so, but it's too hard to be fun, and it hurts! I sob violently as your unhurried spanking continues, it's driving me crazy and you know it.

Then you pull my panties down and off I swallow a gasp in real fear because I feel you bend over and reaching out your hand - I know that hairbrush is on the nightstand. I struggle a little, but it's just no good.

You fondle me, two fingers stroking the wetness between my legs, the plastic brush breaks the silence and I scream. Your soothing hand between my thighs again and pleasure mixing with pain. You fondle until my body tremble, I clench my cheeks and you smack hard one last time with the brush and then your fingers bring me over that edge and I gasp and moan in something far from pain.

When you've let me up and are holding me tightly you take a hankie wiping the tears and the smudged mascara from my face, then we kiss and you look into my eyes, yours are so full of love so knowing and forgiving.

I straighten out my clothes and put on the sweater - I want to be held some more and you put the book you've picked up on the bed and we hug for awhile.

Kitchen, dishes, you say then while pushing me out, but a lingering kiss tells me you don't really want me to leave - it's just a have to.

Tonight, I say, tonight, you agree.

~ Dice

Send warm fuzzies to Dice.

Read more of Dice's writing.

Return to the Stories page.