Free Passion Flower: 1 by Sindra van Yssel Page B

change that. Her heart hammered. The jungle might be safe,
but walking naked through it seemed absolutely crazy.
    It had seemed quiet at first, but now she was aware of the
rustling of the leaves and little tap-taps and click-clicks that
might come from lizards or insects. She looked about for orchid plants that
weren’t in bloom, but there were so many vines and other plants that grew in
and about the eucalyptus trees that she couldn’t really pick out any likely
contenders. She’d have to come back at night sometime.
    The path came to an end not even a mile from where it began.
The dirt changed to sand and the trees found no purchase in there, nor did the
shrubs grow. It wasn’t much of a beach—a strip at most ten yards wide that
stretched for fifty yards of shore perhaps. Mangrove trees grew in the shallow
water here and there, thriving where other trees would die. They provided shade
but left most of the beach brightly lit. She had to shade her eyes with her
hand. The bright tropical sun was a sharp contrast from the dark woods they’d
been traveling through.
    He put his arm around her again. The way his hand settled
comfortably on her bottom made her pussy tingle. With his other hand he flipped
the beach towel to unroll it and then let it settle to the ground.
    He patted her butt and then sat down on the towel, facing
the long side of it and the ocean. “Come lie across me,” he said, indicating
the length of the towel with a sweep of his hand, “and I’ll give you a
spanking.”
    “Have I done something wrong?”
    He shook his head and smiled. “Not at all. I want to spank
you because you enjoyed it the last time.”
    “I did—” She was about to say “not”, but stopped herself.
Her body had given itself away. It was useless to deny it, although she
certainly wasn’t going to admit it. Then she realized by stopping the sentence
where she had, she had. She felt the heat grow in her face.
    He raised his eyebrows and waited.
    To follow his directions, to kneel on the towel and then
stretch her body across his lap, would be a further admission. He wasn’t
forcing her, after all. But she didn’t want to go without either. She wanted to
feel his hand on her backside, whether it was spanking her or groping. There
had to be something smart she could say that would make making herself
available less submissive, less obvious in her desire. But she couldn’t think
of anything.
    Chest feeling heavy, she knelt down on the towel. She
hesitated a moment before moving forward to get herself into spanking position,
and when she did she was so clumsy about it she felt as if she’d practically
thrown herself across his lap. She felt foolish and awkward, but that all went
away when his hand settled on the lowest curve of her ass, his palm gently
curved to follow its contours. That one touch put her at peace. And made her
more turned-on than ever.
    He lifted his hand, but it wasn’t gone for more than a split
second before it landed on her bottom again with a smack. It stung, but only
for a moment. She was sure he could hit her much harder if he meant to, and
knowing he wasn’t angry with her, that he was doing it because she liked it, made
it okay. She felt the tightness in her chest fade as he spanked her, each
little whap taking more tension away.
    She closed her eyes, pressing her cheek into the soft nap of
the towel. A cool breeze off the ocean caressed her. She’d imagined spankings
to be many things—painful, sexy, submissive—but never relaxing. She spread her
legs for him. It seemed like the most natural thing to do. He slid his fingers
along her wet labia. She wondered what he saw, how she looked to him. She
turned her head and looked at him. He was looking between her legs with a
mixture of awe and wonder. It seemed as if to him she was a flower that bloomed
not at a time of day, but in response to being spanked. His look made her feel
beautiful, but it was almost too much to take in. She closed her