Free Bare Assed by Alex Algren Page B

bathroom door before she pushed it open.
    â€œEverything okay in here?” she asked.
    George held the still empty cup in his hands. His fly was undone; his cock was exposed and flaccid.
    â€œIt isn’t working,” George said. “It never works unless I know you’re close by.”
    Priscilla folded her arms. “But I’m ten steps away.”
    George shook his head. “That’s not what I mean. I need for you to…well, I want…”
    And then, just like that, it became clear as a bell.
    Priscilla’s voice was soft, almost a whisper. “You need for me to catch you, George?”
    George nodded, as if giving voice to the notion would validate it as ridiculous.
    Priscilla nodded slowly, exhaling.
    She left the room. She waited five minutes and returned.
    And, like clockwork, George’s face was red when she opened the door, the magazine was in front of him, and his cock was hard in his hand.
    Priscilla leaned against the doorframe.
    â€œWell, George,” she said. “It looks like, once again, I’ve caught you. But, I’m going to be nice about it this
time. I’m going to let you finish.” Priscilla tilted her head toward the cup.
    George hung his head. “I can’t,” he said.
    Priscilla raised her eyebrows. “You still can’t?”
    â€œNo, I can’t finish, until you…” His voice drifted off.
    And with the snap of sudden realization, Priscilla stood up straight. Without a word, she went to their bedroom, entered her closet and retrieved her favorite leather strap.
    George was in position when she returned.
    She raised her hand high above her head and brought the strap down on his awaiting ass. Steadily and soundly, she spanked him.
    Priscilla struck George with the strap until sweat sprang from her temples. She struck him until the sight between his legs caused her to stop.
    All this time, Priscilla had been sure George was thinking about something else, something, anything, other than her spanking him. She was sure he was thinking about all the tits and ass he had been feasting his eyes upon, since usually, after only three strikes, his cock would rise.
    But now Priscilla knew. She knew why George was always so hesitant to turn around when she was done. As if he couldn’t face her, couldn’t bear to associate his hard-on with her punishment.
    And while pleasing George had never been Priscilla’s intention, she became wet at the sight of his rigid cock.

    â€œTurn around, George. Let me get a good view of what you’ve got there,” she said.
    George obeyed. His hard-on extended out in front of him.
    â€œInteresting,” Priscilla said. “Now, however did that happen? I mean, surely you weren’t thinking of those girls in the magazine when you were getting your ass spanked?”
    She didn’t wait for an answer.
    â€œGo on. You can finish now,” she said, holding the cup in front of him.
    And when George rose up on his feet and his face and ass flushed rosy pink and he filled the cup to the line, Priscilla knew that some indulgences were, sometimes, worth allowing.

I’M GOING TO GRAB YOUR HAIR
    N. T. Morley
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    Y ou’ve been asking for it, you need it, and you’re about to get it. I’m going to grab your hair and bend you over and lift your skirt way up over your ass.
    You’ll squirm, I’m sure. You’ll wriggle and writhe and whimper and maybe even plead a little bit, which will make my cock go hard against the heaving flesh of your tits and your thighs and your belly. You’ll feel it, and that’ll make you squirm harder, plead more, because you know what every proper spanking leads to—a proper fuck.
    Then I’m going to grip your hair tight and tell you to hold your skirt. You won’t need to hold it, really; it’ll be so fucking tight, cinched around the swell of your perfect round hips. But I like telling you