Page 33 of The Auction
He stopped spanking my ass and let me catch my breath.
I braced my hand on his thigh and ran my arm across my eyes and nose.
“I don’t even know why I’m crying,” I sniffed. “You hit like a girl!”
His hand was just resting on my butt cheek, his fingers splayed out.
“What did you mean my new wife?”
“Nothing,” I spat, and worked to catch my breath. “Stupid.”
“What you did was childish,” he said. “You’re crying now because you know it.”
“Fine. Whatever. I didn’t do it, did I?”
“No,” he said, then started casually rubbing the spots he’d just turned red with his palm. “I watched you for about five minutes. Battling with yourself before you even approached the tractor.”
“What are you doing?” I asked him, trying to crane my neck over my shoulder.
His fingers slipped over my skin, below the curve of my ass. He was touching me. Down there.
“You needed to be punished for having the thought,” he said, his fingers brushing against the lips of my pussy.
I squirmed in his lap, but his arm against the small of my back held me in place.
“Now I’m going to show you something else,” he murmured.
I didn’t have time to say anything before I could feel the blunt tip of his finger inside me.
Whooshing out a breath, a thousand thoughts ran through my head. He was doing this thing. It wasn’t against my will.
Was it?
He slipped his finger out, ran his hand around my other butt cheek like he was following some pattern and then found my center and slipped his finger inside again. This time a little deeper.
I could feel my body’s slickness. Could feel how it made it easier for him.
Then his thumb was stroking me higher, between my pussy lips but not high enough.
“Higher,” I whispered.
“I’ll get there,” he murmured. “Nice and slow.”
His finger, the one just inside me, went deeper and I winced. It pinched a bit, but I didn’t care because his thumb was there. Right there. On that spot that I sometimes touched. It always felt good, but it never went anywhere. Not like the books said it should.
I rocked my hips against that thumb, that finger.
“What are you doing?” I gasped, as it finally felt like something was happening. An urgency between my legs that I couldn’t really describe.
“I’m fingering you,” he said, bluntly.
“No, I meant…” my voice trailed off.
His arm was no longer a bar against my lower back. His hand was splayed on my naked ass, pushing down a little, even as his other hand worked me. His finger started thrusting in earnest inside me. I could feel every part of it. It wasn’t comfortable. It wasn’t painful. It was…I didn’t know what it was.
Then his thumb was flicking against that spot higher up. That pressure point. Back and forth. Back and forth.
Then I felt it. This crazy wave of heat and pleasure ride over my body. It was between my legs, but it was beyond just there. I could feel it in my toes and my fingers. I didn’t want it to stop. I arched my back and that made it better. My hands gipping his thigh, my nails digging into his flesh.
