The day dragged on like a lazy cat in a sunbeam, every second ticking by with the weight of Julian’s absence. I tried to distract myself—folding laundry, scrolling through work emails, even attempting to read a book—but my mind kept drifting back to the way his hands felt on my hips, the rough promise in his voice when he growled, "I’m going to fuck you so hard you’ll feel me tomorrow."
By mid-afternoon, I was a mess of need, my skin too sensitive, my panties damp just thinking about him. I needed him. Not just his cock—though God, I craved that too—but the weight of his body against mine, the way he’d pin me down and make me beg. So I decided to give him something to look forward to.
I dug out the sexiest outfit I owned—black mini skirt that barely covered my ass, red satin panties that hugged my pussy like a second skin, a white blouse so low-cut it was practically an invitation, stockings that clung to my thighs, and heels that made my legs look endless. I set up my phone on the dresser, angled just right, and started snapping pics. First, the full outfit, skirt hiked up just enough to tease. Then, biting my lip as I unbuttoned the blouse, one slow button at a time, until it slipped off my shoulders. The bra came next—lace cups pushed down, nipples already hard, begging for his mouth. I traced a finger over my cleavage, then lower, skimming the waistband of my panties before peeling them down just enough to expose the wet heat between my thighs.
By the time I was down to nothing but my heels, my fingers were slick with my own arousal. I sent the last shot to Julian with a caption: *Waiting for you. Don’t make me touch myself.*
His reply came within minutes. 'Wait till I get home. I’m going to teach you a lesson, you naughty girl. Make sure you put that black outfit on.'
A shiver ran down my spine. I could already picture it—the way his jaw would tighten when he saw me, the hunger in his eyes as he stripped me bare. I didn’t waste time. I sprawled on the bed, legs spread, fingers working in slow circles over my clit while I imagined his cock, thick and heavy, pressing against my entrance. The orgasm hit me fast, a sharp gasp tearing from my throat as I came, my juices dripping down my thighs.
I barely had time to catch my breath before the front door slammed. Julian’s footsteps echoed through the house, heavy and deliberate. My pulse spiked. He didn’t even knock—just strode into the bedroom like he owned it, like he owned me. And he did.
“There you are,” he growled, his voice rough with restraint. “You little tease. Did you think I wouldn’t notice?”
Before I could answer, he yanked me up by my wrists, spinning me around and bending me over his knee. The first slap of his hand against my ass made me yelp, the sting radiating through me, sharp and delicious. “Fuck, Julian—” I whimpered, squirming against his grip.
“Quiet,” he snapped, spanking me harder, each strike making my pussy clench. I could feel his cock, already hard as steel, pressing against my hip. “You sent me those pictures while I was driving. Nearly made me crash the fucking car.”
“I know,” I gasped, arching into the next slap. “I wanted you to think about me. About this.”
He flipped me onto my back, pinning my wrists above my head. His free hand tore open my blouse, buttons scattering across the floor, before he gripped my throat—not hard enough to hurt, just enough to remind me who was in control. “You’re going to take your punishment,” he growled, his breath hot against my ear. “And then you’re going to ride my cock until you scream.”
I moaned, my hips bucking up against him. “Fuck me, Julian. Now. Make me come all over you.”
He didn’t need to be told twice. In one swift motion, he freed his cock, thick and veined, the head already glistening with pre-cum. He kicked my legs apart, lined himself up, and thrust inside me in one brutal stroke. I cried out, my nails digging into his arms as he stretched me open, filling me completely.
“That’s it,” he grunted, pulling back before slamming into me again. “Take it, you naughty girl. You wanted my cock—now you’ve got it.”
“Fuck—yes—harder—” I begged, my voice breaking. His hips snapped against mine, each thrust driving me closer to the edge. I could feel him swelling inside me, his balls slapping against my ass with every rough motion.
“You’re mine,” he snarled, his grip tightening on my thighs. “Say it.”
“I’m yours,” I whimpered, my body trembling. “Only yours.”
He reached between us, his thumb finding my clit, rubbing in tight, relentless circles. The orgasm crashed over me like a tidal wave, my pussy clamping down around him as I came, my juices gushing over his cock. He groaned, his rhythm faltering for just a second before he buried himself to the hilt and came inside me, his cum filling me up as he roared my name.
For a moment, we stayed like that—breathless, sweaty, tangled together. Then he pressed a soft kiss to my forehead and smirked. “Good girl.”
I laughed breathlessly, swatting at his chest. “Asshole.”
He just grinned, pulling me closer. “You love it.”
And I did. Every filthy, depraved second of it.