Race to the bottom

He’s been asleep all afternoon. I can’t begrudge him his rest; he works ridiculously hard and despite being half-dead with exhaustion last night, he still found the energy to push me face-down onto the bed and fuck my arse until I screamed with delight.
But I’ve been reading smut on the internet for the past hour, and I’m so horny. I shift under the duvet, pressing my thighs together and squirming with unrelieved lust.
He snores gently and I haven’t the heart to wake him.

My cunt however, has no conscience. I know that if I start without him, he’ll be pulled from sleep as I writhe and moan by his side. So I slide my hand below the covers, part my legs and stroke my already slick lips apart.

I close my eyes and in my mind’s eye, I see myself on all fours, face pressed into the mattress and arse high. Wrists tied, ankles shackled to the spreader bar, my favourite position. He kneels behind me, his face intent as he strokes the leather paddle lightly across my back and draws small circles on each buttock before – thwack! – bringing it down sharply on my legs. The sting brings blood rising to the surface of my skin as quickly as it makes my clit swell; I love being spanked. He’s becoming an expert too, combining sensuous touch with brute power – a combination guaranteed to make me gasp and squeal.

He must be awake by now. I sneak a glance towards him, jabbing my fingers into myself and circling my hard clit with my thumb.

It‘s working.

He opens one eye, blearily and regards me in my mid-wank poise; head back, tendons tensed, breath catching.
I feel a pang of guilt at having broken his sleep but my ever-demanding cunt is already clenching in anticipation of his hard cock. She has no conscience.

He frowns.
“Kneel upright” he orders. “Hands behind your head”
It’s amazing how quickly he can wake up given a suitable incentive
He sits up and draws back his hand. It meets the flesh of my buttocks, a hard, stinging blow, making me squeal
“Hush” he admonishes. “You woke me up, you greedy little slut. And you did it on purpose, didn’t you?”
Silently I nod, feigning contrition – but he’s not fooled.
“You’re not going to let me rest until you come, are you?”
His tone is half-amused, half-stern and his eyes glitter with dark mischief. I shake my head, grinning naughtily.
“Right. Here’s the deal.” He slaps me again, hard enough to jolt a gasp from me and leave a florid palmprint across my arse. “I’m going to punish you for waking me up. And you’re going to make yourself come while I’m chastising you. It’s a race. If you can come before I make you beg for mercy, you win and I’ll fuck you. If you have to ask me to stop before you’ve had your orgasm then I win.”
“And?”
I have to ask.
“You’ll see”
Sounds like a win-win proposition to me. I unclasp my hands from behind my head and get to work.
As does he.

He’s not holding back, slapping and squeezing, raking his nails over me, pinching and twisting. It’s delicious, delightful and divine but so distracting. I’m barely registering my own actions, the bloom of hot hectic pain he’s raising is commanding all of my attention. I’m determined not to lose this one but then he picks up the riding crop.
“Agh! Shit! Ouch!” I shriek after only three blows
“Give in?” he enquiries, laughing
Goddammit, no. I get back to work, although by now I have cramp in my wrist and all I want is to take him deep inside me and have him pound the hell out of me.
It only takes another four lashes before I have to scream for mercy. “OK! I surrender, please, no more!” I’m on the verge of tears – of pain and frustration. He sits back grinning smugly
“I win”
“You do indeed” I agree, hoping that his bounty will involve a good hard fucking for the loser. “What’s your prize?”

He lies back down and pulls the duvet back over him.
“I get to go back to sleep. And you, keep your hands off yourself until I say so.”
He laughs at my chagrined expression
“That’ll teach you to interrupt my rest. Now sit over there on your hands and don’t move until I wake up on my own”.
I’m raging inside with unfulfilled lust and burning on the outside thanks to my reddened, tender skin.

Dammit. I should have let him sleep.

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