I usually start my Monday mornings with a bit of optimism, sure the weekend has passed and the work-week has just begun, but if you enjoy your job, it isn’t as bad as some people make it out to be.
When things start going wrong early however, it often sets the tone for the rest of your day, if not your week, and this Monday started out as one of those days. My morning routine went by like every other day, shower, shave, get dressed, breakfast, until I got into my car, pressed the start button, but my car didn’t start.
I grabbed the car’s manual from the glove compartment, tried all the solutions it offered, nothing worked. In the end I had to call the garage, arrange for them to come tow it and have it repaired.
The end result, I was now on my way to work, on public transport, sitting on an uncomfortable seat in an old city bus. I’d had to walk to the bus-stop and when I reached my stop I’d have to walk another five to ten minutes to the office, rather than being able to park my car right by the front door. I was also constantly looking at my phone, following the bus icon on the map to make sure I’d get off at the right stop, since I almost never used this mode of transport.
There was a constant low murmur of the other passengers’ conversations around me. At first I’d been worried, perhaps because of some misguided prejudice that only poor people use public transport, but they all seemed normal folk on their way to work, or students on their way to school or college, either talking in lowered voices or minding their own business.
It wasn’t very busy either, everyone had a place to sit, it wasn’t nearly as crowded as I had feared, though the bus was slowly filling up at each stop.
A little bit bored, and with nothing better to do, I’d begun examining the other passengers, wondering who they were and where they were going. I limited myself to just a glance, for any accidental eye-contact made for a weird, uncomfortable moment. I focused mostly on those getting on the bus at each stop, with a form of natural curiosity.
Most new passengers rushed to grab the last remaining free seats, while others just gathered in the middle, resigning themselves to standing up for the ride. One woman however grabbed my attention more than others, for when our eyes met, she did not avert her gaze like the others, but smiled broadly at me.
I smiled back and felt a little bit better that morning. It’s odd how something simple like a smile can have that impact, and I even ridiculed myself, thinking how typical of a man I was, that a woman’s smile could make me feel better.
A split second later, I realized that now most seats had been taken, sometimes by friends sitting together, other times by two strangers sharing a seat. I still had my bag laying next to me, taking up a potential seat for another passenger. Slightly embarrassed, realizing that might be the reason she’d been looking in my direction, I grabbed my bag and put it at my feet without looking up from my phone.
Moments later I felt the weight of someone sitting down next to me as my seat shifted, followed by a whispered ‘thank you’, and I looked up from the corner of my eyes to see it was indeed the woman who’d smiled at me who was now sitting beside me.
“No worries,” I replied, not sure what else to say.
I focused back on my phone, trying to ignore the person beside me. There was something about her that tried to grab my attention even if just through my peripheral vision, something familiar. It almost felt like I knew her from somewhere, though I didn’t know what.
I’ve always been bad with faces, and even worse with remembering names. She could be a friend of a friend, a distant relative, someone I knew through work, I just couldn’t remember. Had she recognized me? Was I being impolite by not saying anything? Or would the question ‘do I know you from somewhere’ be perceived as a bad – and probable unwelcome – attempt at flirting?
If she’d recognized me, she wasn’t saying anything to me either, I decided, so it was safe for me to ignore her. I could, however, not stop racking my brain and filtering memories, trying to remember who she was, until finally not much later she got back up, to get off at the next stop without looking back at me once.
The bad luck of the morning actually did not follow me the rest of the day. Work was pleasant as always – apart from filling out the forms for my car – and by the end of the day I’d almost forgotten I’d had to take the bus back home as well.
I hate to admit it, but I did look for her, on the ride back home, like some love-struck fool in a soppy movie. I pretended it was because I was curious who she was and where I knew her from and not just because she was pretty, and had smiled at me for half a second.
I arrived home without seeing her again, to the sad sight of an empty parking spot where my car used to be. I’d already been contacted by the garage and it would take a whole week before I’d get it back. I tried not to feel hopeful that this might mean I’d see her again.
I did see her again, the very next day, at what I assume was the same stop as the day before. I looked at her to see if she’d recognize me as well. She smiled, but it seemed like she wasn’t really looking.
I looked back down at my phone, I’d already cleared the seat beside me today, not wanting to seem like the inexperienced traveller that took up more space than he needed that I’d been the day before. Moments later she sat down beside me, “Good morning,” she said.
“Good morning,” I replied.
I looked around and couldn’t help but notice there were several other free seats she could’ve sat down at, yet she’d chosen to sit beside me. That didn’t mean anything of course, but combined with this feeling that I knew her from somewhere, I couldn’t help but ask.
“I’m sorry,” I said, “I’m not trying to come on to you, but, have we met before?”
The young woman giggled softly and turned towards me, “No problem,” she said, she looked at me for a moment, licking her lips as she was trying to think, “I don’t think so,” she finally replied, “And I’m usually very good at remembering faces.”
I couldn’t think of anything to reply right that instance, now face-to-face, my mind was occupied with the thought that she was even prettier up close. “Alright, well sorry for bothering you,” I finally said, hoping she didn’t think I was some weirdo.
“No problem,” she repeated before turning away.
We sat there in silence, just like the day before, just the murmuring of other passengers around us, and I still couldn’t shake this feeling that I knew her, even though she’d just confirmed that she didn’t know me.
“I’m Jessica, by the way,” she suddenly said.
Surprised that she’d picked the conversation back up, I turned towards her, “Samuel,” I replied.
She smiled at me, that smile that made you forget you were on a crowded city bus instead of in your own, comfortable car. “Now we’ve met,” she said.
I grinned and nodded, before looking at my phone to see how many more stops before I had to get off. I wondered whether she wanted to talk, or was just being polite. “Do you take this bus often?” I asked, a stupid question, but what else could you ask a stranger you’d just met?
“Every day,” she replied, “Oh perhaps that’s why you recognized me, from taking the same bus to work every day.”
I shrugged, “Nah, I never take the bus, I’m just doing so this week because my car is in for repairs.”
The woman nodded and a short silence followed as we both tried to come up with anything else to say.
“So how are you liking it so far?” she asked, “Taking public transport I mean.”
“Better than I expected,” I replied without thinking about it.
She smiled again broadly, taking the unplanned compliment that it was her company that made the otherwise uncomfortable ride better.
“Well, I have to get off here, see you tomorrow?” she asked when we reached her stop.
I nodded, “Yeah, until tomorrow.”
I saw her every morning the following days. I made sure the seat beside me was free and she’d sit beside me without hesitation. We talked – less awkwardly every day – and got to know each other a little.
On Thursday she lamented that our conversations were always cut short and we agreed to meet for lunch during the day. On Friday we lunched together again and she gave me her number.
I did not see her during the weekend, but looked forward to seeing her again on Monday, until I got the call from the garage on Saturday that I could come get my car.
We could still see each-other for lunch, I told myself, but it felt wrong not to greet her in the morning first. So on Monday, I left my car at home and got back on that bus. I was starting to get used to some of the advantages of taking public transport, not having to look for parking, not having to pay attention to the road, but just being able to chat…
My conversations with Jessica became more flirty as the days went by, there was some obvious chemistry between us, both in the mornings and during lunch. We met up almost every day, our goodbye’s occasionally blessed with a hug or even a kiss on my cheek.
On Wednesday, on my second week of taking public transport to work, the bus was much more crowded than usual. There hadn’t been any completely empty seats when I got on and while I was able to sit myself next to someone else, by the time Jessica got on, all the seats were taken. She looked visibly disappointed that she could not sit next to me, but when I waved her over and offered her my seat, she promptly plopped down on my lap instead.
I was shocked for a moment, but that quickly turned to excitement as I could feel her weight on my lap. I could feel my arousal growing in my crotch, especially as the sometimes bumpy ride caused some scandalous moments while she ineffectively tried to maintain properly seated.
There was less conversation than usual that day, as I tried to ignore the growing erection between my legs, exacerbated by the bus engine’s vibrations and the beautiful woman’s soft, plump buttocks grinding down on it. At least she didn’t comment on it though, and the fact that she didn’t jump up in horror, probably meant it wasn’t unwelcome either.
When she got off at her stop, and I finally had time to breathe easy again, I sent her a text message, asking whether she’d be interested in going out for dinner later that day.
Jessica agreed eagerly to this date, but later that day, I got the disappointing message that she was working late and had to cancel.
Many thoughts went through my mind that day, thinking she’d stood me up, that I perhaps had read her signals wrong after all. But she sent multiple messages apologizing and the following morning sat back down beside me on the bus, apologizing to me once more for missing our date. She proposed we reschedule for Friday, and to make up for it, she’d make dinner herself, inviting me to her home.
I was excited to see her that Friday evening. The last two days I’d been looking forward to this, and I think so had she. She hadn’t gone as far as sitting on my lap again, but did sit quite close against me on the bus and during lunch she’d provocatively caress my legs with her feet under the table. The chemistry between us had turned to barely veiled lust with the way we acted, and our flirting had gone from subtle to … well not subtle at all.
It would only be our first real date, I told myself, though while I shouldn’t expect anything, I could still hope. She had invited me to her apartment after all. If anything were to happen, this was the kind of date it would take.
When I arrived at her home that evening, I was greeted by the smell of good food. Her apartment seemed familiar, though I was sure I’d never been in this part of town before.
After a welcoming kiss – deeper and with more longing than any we’d shared before – she took me to the kitchen where she was working.
I sat down at her kitchen table, watching her. Over her dress, she was wearing a white apron while she cooked. With the way it was tied around her waist it accentuated her curves, the deep neckline emphasizing her bosom and the open end highlighting her round bottom underneath that tight dress.
The scene looked so familiar, so recognizable, the pretty woman, the white apron, the wooden spoon she was holding in her hand, even the kitchen cabinets, the chairs and the table I was seated at. It all seemed like I knew it from somewhere.
Then it hit me, I realized where I knew her from, how I’d recognized her almost two weeks ago as she got on that bus. I’d seen videos of her, in this exact room.
A blush crept up on my face as I fully realized what this meant, who she was. Those videos, they were, they weren’t… well they were the kind of videos you watched by yourself, in the dark, when you were feeling a certain way.
I’m not afraid to admit it, I’m a man, and like any man I occasionally enjoy some adult content. When I’m lonely, or bored, or sometimes just horny, I like some equally horny entertainment.
I never liked any main-stream pornography however, the over-the-top acting, the gratuitous close-up shots, the brightly-lit sets that leave nothing to the imagination. I like something more casual, more personal, more real.
Jessica’s content was like this, more amateurish, she didn’t have a dozen camera angles, she didn’t use professional lighting, there was no monthly subscription payment, she wasn’t doing it for money. Her videos were short, exciting, and shared only because sharing these intimate moments turned her on. At least that’s what I assumed.
All of this went through my mind in moments, and the pretty woman in front of me didn’t even realize as she was busy making me dinner.
I wondered whether it should bother me, and quickly realized it didn’t. Should it bother me that other people have seen those videos as well, have gotten off on them the same way I had? For some reason I didn’t care. In fact I realized many would be jealous to be in my situation. There were never any others in those videos, all of them were ‘solo adventures’, I might be the one lucky enough to get something that many others desired.
I realized I didn’t care, because I liked her, I wasn’t just attracted to her, I wasn’t just horny for her, I liked her. Which prompted the thought that I should probably tell her.
This scared me, but I knew keeping it a secret would be a bad idea, at least it would be if I wanted a real relationship with her.
I just had to bite the bullet.
“I think I just found out where I know you from,” I said.
Jessica turned around, slightly surprised.
I licked my lips nervously, “I’ve seen you wielding that same spoon before,” I said, trying to keep it light-hearted, “And wearing that same apron, though you were wearing nothing underneath.”
A blush crept on Jessica’s face, “Sounds like you had a naughty dream,” she replied teasingly,“ What would I have been doing, dressed like that?” she asked.
I grinned, “You were using that spoon to spank your own naughty bottom,” I replied teasingly, “And it wasn’t in a dream, it was in a video.”
Jessica’s blush deepened, and she shyly bit her lower lip, “Are those the kind of videos you like to watch?” she asked.
My grin broadened, she was shocked obviously, but not freaking out, “Are those the kind of videos you like to make?” I countered.
Jessica licked her lips, “I didn’t expect I’d ever actually meet anyone who’d seen them,” she replied hesitantly.
I thought about that for a moment. It made sense, there were billions of people in the world, and she didn’t have many followers, she never did any advertising or any real effort to get her videos more attention. I myself had only found them by accident. How much of a coincidence would it be that she might meet someone who had seen them?
“Does it bother you?” I asked her.
She shrugged, “Does it bother you?” she asked back.
I shook my head, “I don’t think so,” I replied honestly.
Jessica smiled, that smile that had attracted me to her in the first place. “Well at least I now know what kind of things you’re into,” she laughed.
I grinned, “naughty girls and red bottoms,” I replied, “Just like you.”
Jessica licked her lips hungrily and for a moment I thought we were about to skip dinner and go straight to dessert, when I suddenly smelled something burning.
She must’ve smelled it too, for she quickly turned around, cursing softly as she frantically tried to save whatever it was that had been on the fire too long.
I could feel my heart slowing down from the rapid rate it had been beating at as Jessica’s back was turned to me, focused on saving the food.
I couldn’t help but stare at her cute butt, framed by her apron, snug inside that dress. I’d watched it often before, uncovered, plump, soft, bouncing, red, bruised, … Yet never this close, never within reach, even hidden beneath her dress it felt much more alluring now than it ever had in those videos.
It turns out Jessica is quite a good cook, the dinner she made was lovely despite part of it being burned. She apologized profusely for that, lamenting that she had so little left for us to eat. I wasn’t too bothered by it, what was left tasted great, and I enjoyed her company more than I could any food.
We talked about innocent things at first, now that our initial excitement had cooled down. Yet it wasn’t long before my discovery was the topic of our conversation again. I asked her about why she enjoyed making those videos and sharing them, and she in turn asked me what I liked about them, when I watched them…
It was an interesting conversation, not one I ever imagined having, but it confirmed many of my suspicions about her.
Jessica told me how she enjoyed the idea of being a naughty girl, how being punished in such an intimate, erotic way was a turn-on for her and how she wanted to share this with others, because, in her words, ‘what’s the point of being naughty if no-one knows you are’.
I shared in turn how much of a turn-on it was for me, not just visually seeing her do these things, watching her bend over her kitchen table, spanking her own bottom with that spoon, or any of the other, many scenarios I’d seen her play out in her videos, but the feeling behind them, the naughty girl submitting to a punishment, the arousal that grew inside me when I witnessed something that was supposed to be painful and embarrassing, turned out to be hot and exciting instead. Hoping that some day I might be the one turning a cute, round bottom like hers hot and red.
The teasing and flirting grew hot and tense by the end of our short meal, I have to admit I’d been rock hard for the latter half of our dinner. But when we ran out of food, our conversation slowed down as we both wondered what we should say to move onto the next phase of this evening.
“Would you like to watch?” Jessica asked me unexpectedly. I had just asked her if she had any plans for another video soon.
“Of course,” I replied, “I watch all of your work.”
“I mean now,” she replied, shyly biting her lip, “If I make one right now.”
I paused in surprise, I had imagined many ways this night might go, flirting and promises, sex, or maybe even putting her across my knee. A live performance of one of her self-spankings I had not thought of. “I’d love that,” I replied.
Still biting her lip, she nodded, “I’ve never had a live audience before,” she replied.
I grinned, “Imagine how exciting it will be,” I replied, and I told myself the same thing. Sure, maybe I’d hoped to do more than just watch, but this was just our first date after all.
My reply seemed to have convinced her to go through with her own suggestion, for she quickly got up. “Wait here,” she said.
I waited patiently for just a moment, until she returned.
Jessica turned off the light, making the room feel more intimate, turned around an empty chair and attached some kind of tripod onto the back of the chair that could hold her phone. She took some time to make sure the table was in the middle of her shot while I was just out of frame – asking me to move back a little – before disappearing again.
She was gone for longer this time, making me wonder whether she was coming back, or she’d changed her mind. When she did return, I could feel my heart skip a beat and my dick growing even harder than it already was, trying to burst out of my trousers. She’d undressed, taking off everything she’d been wearing, except for that apron.
“Is this what you remembered?” she asked, the apron tied even more snugly around her waist than before, her breasts almost popping out at the front, and her pale, bare bottom completely exposed as she spun around.
“Yeah, that’s it,” I replied, almost choking on my words.
Checking the camera one last time, Jessica placed herself in front of it, back against the table after pressing the record button.
“Hey everyone,” she said in that whispery, hoarse voice I recognized from her videos. “Emma here, and I’ve been a naughty girl…”
I raised an eyebrow in surprise for a moment as I heard her use that name. I’d nearly forgotten she didn’t use her actual name for her videos. If she’d called herself that the first time we met on the bus, I might’ve recognized her sooner, I thought.
“I had a date today,” Jessica continued. She always started off her videos with a short explanation, a short sketch of why she was going to discipline herself this time. It was one of the reasons I enjoyed her content, there were no ridiculous, unbelievable scenarios, just some everyday things, some believable, naughty behavior that made things feel real and made you think that naughty girl really did deserve a good, firm spanking.
“Now don’t be jealous,” she said, “But he’s a very handsome, smart, and funny guy, and I really screwed up.
I couldn’t help but grin at the compliments she was giving me, at least I assumed she was talking about me, believing that the things she said in her videos always were things that had actually happened to her in everyday life.
“I was going to cook him dinner,” she continued her explanation, “But I burned the food, I had to offer him this disgusting, burned dinner,” she said with a pout, gesturing at the table behind her, our empty plates still there.
“So… I’m sure you all agree, that a naughty girl like me, deserves a good, firm punishment for screwing up so badly,”
She looked away from the camera for the first time, glancing at me. I nodded, as if agreeing with that statement, which made her blush very excitedly.
Then she got up, turning her back to the camera and showing off her bare behind to anyone who might some day watch this video. She pushed aside the dishes on the table and bent over it, sticking up her round, curvy backside.
A short explanation, and then right down to business, there wasn’t much fluff in her videos, but that made it all feel so real, a naughty girl didn’t deserve any delays. It didn’t just feel real, it was real, I realized as I watched her, reaching back, caressing her bottom.
I found myself holding my breath, biting my lips as she raised her hands and began spanking her own behind. The sound echoed in her kitchen as she warmed up her backside with the palm of her hand. I had to remind myself to breathe slowly, to not say anything or make any noise that might be heard in her video.
I could feel my trousers stretching, my arousal fighting to escape. Usually when I watched her like this, I’d be alone, undressed, in the dark, caressing myself as she caressed and spanked her bottom. It was as if my cock was confused as to why it wasn’t getting any attention, as if I could just whip it out right now. I didn’t of course, but just watched, mesmerised by her bouncing buttocks.
Then she picked up the wooden spoon, and I watched in anticipation. I’d watched many videos before, and some made me question whether the spankings in them were real, or if they were just pretending. Not Jessica’s though, hers always sounded real, her squeals and moans convincing, but there was always that sliver of doubt, maybe she was just a good actor.
When she swung the implement at her pink backside however, I could see the force behind her arm, I could see the rippling of her flesh from the impact. She wasn’t holding back, she wanted the pain, wanted it to be real as much as I did.
I could hear her moan, watched her squirm as she punished her own behind. Slowly her plump pink bottom turned red by the imprints left behind by the spoon in her hand.
When she squealed, it sounded so much better in person, echoing in her kitchen. I watched her tremble slightly as she relentlessly tortured herself, the spoon raining down on her behind, her own hand delivering her punishment.
I wanted to do more than just watch, I wanted to touch it, feel her trembling beneath my hand and feel how hot her bright red buttocks had become.
Finally, she stopped, placing the wooden spoon beside her on the table. Carefully she reached back, gently caressing her poor, sore bottom. This was always one of my favorite parts of the videos, the naughty girl, having learned her lesson, comforting her poor behind. Her hands, eagerly massaging her backside, revealing her hidden arousal more and more as each stroke exposed how turned on she really was as she squeezed her buttocks and spread her legs, leaving no secrets from her viewers as they might catch a glimpse in this dark room of her wet and throbbing pussy.
Then she stood up, turning around, smiling shyly at the camera, blushing slightly, “Thanks for watching,” she said, ending the recording.
She then turned to me, “How was it?” she asked.
“Amazing,” I replied, not sure what else to say, “I’ll definitely watch it again, when you post the video.”
Jessica giggled, “I hope I did well, I was a bit distracted, knowing you were there, watching.”
“You did great,” I replied, “I bet your bottom is all hot and sore.”
“It is,” she replied, pouting playfully.
I hesitated, not sure what else to say, still overwhelmed from what I’d seen and having her in front of me almost completely naked. “Did you like having a live audience?” I asked.
She nodded excitedly and then stepped up to me, much too close for comfort, “I liked it a lot,” she said, “We should do it again some time.”
I grinned broadly, “I just wish I could do more than just watch,” I said, “… to help out I mean.”
She blushed shyly and reached for something she had tucked inside the front pocket of her apron, a single wrapped condom, “There is one thing you could do…” she whispered.
I grinned and took it out of her hand, surprised but pleased, “Not exactly what I had in mind,” I replied, “But a very good idea nonetheless.”
Jessica grinned broadly and then bit her lip, “I can take a bit more,” she said, “If that’s what you want…”
I swallowed audibly, not ready for that response.
She grabbed the spoon off the table and handed it to me, “For not showing up to our date?” she said, making it sound almost like a question.
I held onto the spoon tightly, “You did stand me up,” I replied.
Jessica nodded, looking up at me remorsefully, then quickly turned around, presenting her sore red bottom.
I hesitated for a moment, then placed the wooden spoon against her glowing, hot behind. I couldn’t believe this was happening, how lucky I was.
I pressed the spoon more firmly against her backside, until I could feel the hot flesh against my fingers. Hungrily, I placed my other hand as well, feeling her soft, tender backside in the palm of my hand. She’d handed me the spoon, but didn’t seem to protest if I wanted to use my hands instead.
I put the implement aside and raised my arm, spanking her behind with my hand.
Jessica moaned deeply as I raised my hand again and again, the sound of flesh hitting flesh echoing in her kitchen. Her buttocks bounced from the impact of my hand.
“Please, fuck me!” she groaned.
I paused in surprise, looking down at the young woman in front of me as I’d been entranced by the rhythm of spanking her, the sounds, the moans. Now that I looked down on her, back arched, legs spread, buttocks red and throbbing, her wet excitement almost dripping down the inside of her legs from arousal.
I placed my hand between her legs, feeling the heat radiating off her lips, letting my fingers slide between them as her moans grew hoarser.
I wanted to fuck her, I wanted to give her what she wanted, but I wanted to spank her too. If she really was a naughty girl, if she really deserved to be punished, I should be the one in control, so I picked up the spoon.
Jessica groaned, but raised her bottom obediently when I placed the wooden implement against her sore backside.
“Ten swats,” I told her, not wanting to take this too far, unsure of how much more she could take.
She didn’t protest, so I raised the spoon in my hand.
I heard a crack as it landed across her backside, and the young woman yelped louder than at any moment before, but she did not object or move away, so I raised the spoon again.
By the time I reached ten, she was whimpering and moaning, each stroke accompanied by a protesting squeal, yet after every impact she arched her back and raised her bottom for the next.
After ten, I dropped the implement on the table and placed my hands on her trembling behind, gently caressing her sore, quivering backside.
“Please fuck me,” she said, a soft whisper this time.
I grabbed the condom which I’d tucked in my pocket, dropped my trousers and quickly secured the protection. When I grabbed her hips, she moaned deeply, sticking out her red bottom, pushing it up against my ready erection.
I couldn’t wait any longer, sliding it inside her, feeling her heat encompass my cock, until I was all the way inside of her, my hips connecting with her equally hot, red buttocks.
I couldn’t hold back, and I didn’t think she wanted me to, I fucked her hard and fast. The arousal that had been building inside of me as I’d watched her spank herself, and when I’d taken over her punishment myself, pushed me towards the edge.
I could hear her moaning, I could feel her trembling, her pussy clenching around my cock and her squealing as she climaxed. This pushed me over the edge, knowing that she was just as turned on as I was, that she’d enjoyed this just as much as I had, despite the pain in her backside, despite that throbbing red flesh that were her buttocks and the bruises she might still feel the following day. I came, grunting, gasping for breath, climaxing deep inside of her.
I stopped, stepping back in silence, watching her as she stood up, turning around, biting her lips as she caressed her own bottom.
“I hope I didn’t spank you too hard,” I said.
“Well… it was a bit harder than I’m used to,” she replied, blushing shyly.
“But not too hard?” I asked again.
“Just hard enough,” she said, grinning broadly.
“Does that mean I get to do it again sometime?” I asked playfully.
She winked at me, “You’re going to have to,” she said, “If we’re going to keep dating, a naughty girl like me needs a firm-handed boyfriend.”
I smiled, “Well as long as I don’t have to star in any videos,” I teased.
Jessica laughed, “Don’t worry, I can do those when you aren’t around to take care of me… Right?”
I nodded, “Of course, I’ll still need my entertainment when you aren’t around to take care of me.”
She smiled, hands still on her bottom. I stepped forward, reaching around her so that my hands could join hers. “So were you going to send me home after our first date, or were you going to ask me to stay the night?” I asked.
Jessica licked her lips, “You better stay the night, to make sure I’m a good girl and don’t get into any more trouble.”
***
The end
Story inspired art
