Jake would be arriving any moment, so I quickly glanced around the room to make sure all was as it should be. When we'd parted ways the weekend before, he'd given me specific instructions about how to prepare for our next project - today's project - painting the dining room. And after the lessons I'd learned in our first encounter, I wasn't about to disappoint him. Not only did I have a lot to learn about painting, there was also still a great deal he could teach me about the potential for pleasure.
So the ladder was in one corner, ready to help us reach the trim along the ceiling. I'd removed all of the furniture except for the dining table, which remained in the center of the room, covered with a drop cloth and serving as a work table. Cans of paint, brushes, and rollers were neatly stacked there. I had also brought out all of the other supplies I'd been conned into buying at the hardware store - although I had learned last week I didn't really need them to paint effectively, I was hoping Jake might have some additional creative uses for them.
Everything was ready, I thought to myself, as I wiped my brow, suddenly aware of how much I was sweating on this hot summer morning. Already scantily clad in a fitted t-shirt and shorts, I had no room to undress further, so instead went into the kitchen to put some cool water on a wash cloth. Jake knocked on screen door while I was still in the kitchen, and I hollered for him to come on in. I gave him a broad smile as we met in the dining room, but his smile quickly turned to a frown as he watched me pat my forehead and cheeks with the damp cloth.
"What's wrong, princess, are you too warm?"
"Well, just a little. It's supposed to hit 90 today, and I guess I got a little overheated moving furniture and carrying painting supplies in from the shed out back."
"I appreciate your diligence, everything does look to be prepared just as I asked. But I have trouble understanding how you can be overwhelmed with heat, wearing that skimpy little outfit, while I'm perfectly comfortable over here in my usual attire?"
"Hmm, maybe in addition to the warm weather, I'm also a little hot and bothered thinking about your visit today?"
"Again, Ashley, a little patience wouldn't hurt now and then." There was a smile in his voice, but his expression was still serious. "Now, listen carefully, so that we can get started. First, I'm disappointed that your hair isn't up in pigtails like it was last week. Do you suppose you could do something about that while I get things rolling here? No pun intended," he said wryly, glancing at the roller in his hand.
I scurried off to my bedroom, found a pair of blue hair ties that matched my baseball-styled blue-and-white tee, and quickly brushed my hair into two matching pigtails. As I looked into the mirror, I couldn't blame Jake for his request. The look was a sexy one. Just as quickly as I'd run into the room, I dashed back out to show Jake how eagerly I'd followed his direction.
"That's better," he said, not even looking up from the paint he was pouring into a roller pan. When he was finished, he looked up to see me once again wiping my brow. "Are you still complaining about the heat?"
"I'm not complaining, I'm fine!"
"Ah, and now arguing as well."
"No. I mean... I'm sorry."
"As hard as you've tried to follow my directions, it sounds like you still have some learning to do. Patience and discipline aren't exactly your strengths."
"I'm ready to listen."
"I hope so. Here's what we're going to do. I'm going to ask you to go up on the ladder and paint the edge of this wall as it abuts the ceiling. That way, it will be ready for me to roll the rest of the wall."
I nodded in understanding, afraid that in my overeager way, I'd turned him off to any extra-curricular activities, and he was in fact just going to get to the business of painting. But again, I just wasn't being patient - his next statement showed he was still up for more.
"Take off your shirt and shorts, pick up your paintbrush, and climb the ladder."
I wasn't about to question this time, so I silently followed his instructions, happy that I'd taken the time that morning to pick out my favorite lacy powder blue bra and matching thong. I knew how sexy I looked, and a quick glance towards Jake's crotch confirmed that he was aroused. I put my paint can on the ladder's shelf, clutched my paintbrush, and climbed two steps to bring me to the level where I could reach my work.
"Good. Now, carefully, patiently, work that edge for me."
I did as I was told, focusing as much as I could on the task at hand, although completely distracted by the thought of Jake standing behind me, watching my nearly-naked body as I struggled to paint a clean line at the top of the wall where it met the ceiling.
"Nice work, Ashley. Keep it up no matter what I do, alright? This will be an exercise in patience and discipline."
I turned to look at him, but before my eyes could meet his, I was reprimanded with a slap across the ass with what I could only guess from previous experience was a stir stick.
"I thought I told you to keep up the good work?"
"Yes." My hand trembling with excitement, I went back to painting.
I could hear him move behind me, but didn't dare look back a second time. Soon, his hands were on my ass cheeks, massaging the flushed skin that still stung from his strike. His fingers began to weave in and out of the thin strap of my thong, and I struggled to keep my focus as the warmth grew between my legs. As I put a bit more paint on my brush and continued to work, slower now, he took a firmer grip on my thong, using the tension of the fabric to massage my clit.
I moaned and let my weight fall into the ladder, needing to keep my balance in spite of my growing excitement. With no punishment coming my way after a few moans, I let out a squeal after he quickened his pace. He released the fabric, snapping it back towards my skin, and after another moment, there was another firm slap on my ass with the stick, then another, even harder.
"Was there something you wanted to say, Ashley?"
"No."
Slap, a third time.
Realizing my error, this time I simply nodded.
Satisfied once again that I was paying attention, his hands returned to me, gently massaging my ass cheeks. "Good work, Ashley, much improved. Looks like it's time to move the ladder, so why don't you come down."
My knees wobbling, I stepped down off the ladder and watched as he moved it a few feet to the right, a position from which I could finish that particular assignment. I also couldn't help but noticing that his cock was now straining against his jeans, and took it upon myself to reach for his belt, figuring I'd await his reaction as to whether he wanted me to proceed.
He grabbed my outstretched arm by the wrist and spun me into him hard and fast, his other hand taking my paintbrush from me and setting it gently on top of the paint can on the dining table. My body pressed against his, he looked down into my eyes, and whispered, "And just what do you think you were doing? Are you trying to take control?"
"No."
"Hmm, I'm really growing tired of hearing that word from you."
Still clutching me close with one hand on my wrist, he reached to the table with his other hand, and my eyes followed, watching as he picked up the knife he'd used to open a package of rollers. "Eyes on mine, Ashley."
I obeyed, my eyes quickly meeting his again, as he wrapped both arms around me now, and the cold blade of the knife came to rest on my bare ass cheek. "Trust."
"Yes," I whispered, as I did indeed trust.
With one smooth motion, he wrapped the fabric of my thong around the blade and sliced through it, sending the material cascading to the floor. My eyes likely betrayed some surprise, but I remained still in his arms. "Good girl."
Just as quickly, he found the thinnest part of my bra strap and sliced through it as well, and then set down the knife and freed my breasts from their lacy enclosure. His big, strong hands now moved over my body, gripping and kneading first my breasts and then my ass cheeks, as I melted into him. He then turned me around, and my head fell back to rest against his chest as his hands reached around and began exploring my pussy. I instinctively spread my legs for him, and he gently stroked me, my juices lubricating his fingers as they explored deeper and deeper. Soon, he was furiously rubbing my clit with one hand while the fingers of his other hand plunged in and out of my pussy. I writhed in pleasure against him, and soon began whispering words of encouragement, "Yes, that's it, yes, more, more!"
It wasn't until my words took on that tone of direction that he reacted, his hands immediately stopping. I whimpered, but quickly understood, as he plunged his dripping wet fingers into my mouth, and I had no choice but to lick them clean, tasting my own juices for the first time in my life. His fingers still in my mouth, keeping me from speaking, he flashed me a naughty grin and began surveying the work table, clearly making his next plan for a combination of pleasure and punishment. His eyes settled on a mini-sized roller, which he plunged into my mouth just as soon as he pulled his fingers out, thus insuring my silence.
"Now, back to work, Ashley. I need you to finish that edge before we move on."
My clit still throbbing and my lips now straining around the foreign object in my mouth, I dutifully picked up my brush once again and climbed the ladder, this time naked. I longed for him to carry me down from this place, take me into my bedroom, and make love to me, slowly and gently; but I also had to admit to myself how incredibly turned on I was as he continued to challenge my controlling nature by asserting his own control in such blatantly sexual ways. I had indeed learned a few lessons of patience this morning, which I proudly demonstrated for him now. Even though I could hear that he was removing his clothes, even though I wanted nothing more than to spit out the irritatingly fuzzy and unbudging object in my mouth, I slowly, carefully, finished my work on the ladder, and awaited his command before coming down.
"Very nice, Ashley. I appreciate your hard work. Now it's my turn."
I came down from the ladder, set down my paint and brush, and he gently pulled the roller from my mouth. I admired his naked body as he stood before me, spreading paint onto his roller.
"Now, I'm going to roll a coat of paint on this wall. It should take just a few minutes. While I'm doing that, I have a favor to ask of you."
"Yes?"
"Go into your bedroom and get a few pillows, and then go to the kitchen and get a tablespoon. Bring those things back here, set them on the table, and wait for me to be finished."
Trying to move calmly, I nonetheless completed the mysterious tasks he'd given me quite quickly, and so was able to spend a few minutes leaning, naked, on the dining table, watching him work. He finished the wall, set down his roller pan and roller, and wiped his hands on the same damp cloth I'd used to wipe my brow when he first arrived that morning.
"Now, Ashley. Come here."
I walked the few steps towards him, until I was close enough to feel his breath on my bare skin.
"Take me into your hands, stroke me until I'm hard enough to give you a proper fucking."
I needed no more encouragement, and grabbed his cock in one hand, stroking it steadily as I tickled his balls with my other. After a few moments, he could wait no longer, and, pushing my hands away and pulling me closer, put his rock hard cock between my legs and moistened it by rubbing it slowly against my pussy lips.
"Grab a pillow, Ashley."
I reached back to the table, clutched at a pillow, and presented it to him.
Wordlessly, he spun me around, pushed me towards the table, and just before bending me over against it, encouraged me to place the pillow between my skin and the table. His body pressed firmly behind mine so that I couldn't move on my own, he forced my legs further apart.
"Now, take the other pillow, hold it in your hands, and press your forearms against the table."
As soon as I had done so, he plunged into me, and I cried out in pleasure as my pussy adjusted to the depth of his thrust. As he began pounding in and out of me from behind, I smiled at the thoughtfulness of his request that I bring the pillows. Even as the motion of our bodies pounded me into the table, I felt no pain, buffered by my plush pillows. If I weren't so overwhelmed by the power of his thrusts, I might have had time to wonder about the purpose of the spoon.
After a few more moments in this position, he reached down with one hand, grabbed my right leg at the knee, and lifted it until it was resting on the table as well. This new position spread me incredibly wide, and made his thrusts even deeper, and I began to cry out in pleasure. I knew I wouldn't last much longer before reaching a powerful orgasm, and I was amazed that he was able to hold back so long.
Even as I came, screaming out and writhing beneath him, he continued his steady pounding, slowing only when I had fully recovered from the longest orgasm I could remember experiencing. He waited until I pulled myself to my hands and looked back at him before he increased his rhythm once again and spoke.
"Now, Ashley, listen carefully. I've decided that I'd like to shoot cum all over your face, do you understand? That's why I've asked you to bring the spoon. Take it in your hand, please, and have it ready. When the time is right, I'll ask you to turn around, kneel before me, and take what I give you." As he spoke, the pace of his thrusts into my pussy increased, and his voice lost a bit of its power, turning instead to a husky whisper. "Remember the first rule I taught you? Not a drop hits the floor."
I nodded my understanding of his instructions, my hand clenched around the spoon, as he continued to fuck me. After just a few moments more, his motions became irregular, and he shouted, "Yes, it's time!"
As he pulled out of me, I quickly turned, dropped to my knees, and smiled up at him, my eyes meeting his just as he shot his load. After a few brief moments, my entire face was dripping with his hot, sticky cum, only some of which landed conveniently near my mouth. The rest was oozing down my forehead and cheeks, and I moved quickly to collect it with the spoon before any of it dripped to the floor. The few drops that did escape thankfully hit my breasts, and Jake merely smiled, massaging the sticky cum into my skin.
"May I have the spoon, please?"
I handed it over to him, and he fed to me what I had already collected, before slowly, affectionately, tracing the spoon once more against each cheek to collect the remainder and feed that to me as well.
"Good girl."
"My pleasure."
He pulled me to my feet and we began to survey the room. One wall finished, three to go. Oh, and a couple of cut-up pieces of lingerie in the middle of the floor.
"Oh, yeah, sorry about that, Ashley," Jake said as he watched me observe my favorite bra, ruined. "Those were nice. Don't worry, I'll replace them for you. Hey, why don't you give me a call sometime this week when you can take a long lunch, and I'll meet you at Victoria's Secret. I've always fantasized about fucking in a lingerie shop dressing room, think you'd be up for that?"
"Absolutely, Jake. Your wish is my command."
To be continued...
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