Alison's Wonderland. Alison Tyler

nod.

      “Then beg me.”

      Back in my other life, I’m too proud to beg for anything, but all the rules are different now. I’m different. In this slipsliding underworld of lust, I’ll do anything to feel the delicious sting of his hand stoking the fire in my flesh.

      “Please, Anton, spank my ass while you fuck me.” I’m almost crying, and my pussy, too, is weeping, the juices pooling on his belly.

      Anton starts bucking, a butterfly-stroke dolphin kick, mattress style. “Say it again. Tell me how much you want it,” he orders, his voice hoarse and thick.

      “Please spank me. I need it. I’ll die without it. Please, boss, please.”

      With those magic words, I finally earn my employee bonus, a flurry of slaps on the ass that drive me up and over the edge. A voice screams, “God, I’m coming”—I think it’s mine—and another, lower one joins in with a “Fuck-oh-fuck-oh-fuck,” and I have to grip my thighs as tightly as I can to stay on as he empties himself into me.

      Afterward we snuggle, wrapped around each other like fronds of seaweed, not even bothering to mop up the sticky wetness.

      “Do you think I’m a pervert?” I say softly, into his shoulder.

      “I think you’re hot,” he replies, stroking my hair.

      I smile. “So what do you like to think about when you…you know…?”

      Anton laughs. “Funny you should ask. One of my old favorites is that I’m spying on two sexy women doing it in a pool and they catch me and beg me to fuck them.”

      I laugh, too, with pleasure and relief. “Really? Do you spank them?”

      “No, but I will next time.”

      He tilts my chin up. Our eyes meet. His are green and liquid and seem to reach down inside me to touch all my soft, secret places. I hear a voice, too, echoing faintly in my head—his or mine, I’m not quite sure.

       Thanks for the ride.