Free Getting In (Amanda's Trilogy) by Isabella Jones

to me in my life.
    I shrug off my jacket because I’m perspiring, then I pull Lisette in close to me.
    “Lisette,” I say, looking up at her.
    “Please,” she whimpers.
    I place my hands gently on the curve of her hips and begin to drop tiny kisses on her breasts, butterfly kisses with my lips that tickle and tease. Then my tongue, as if on its own accord, begins to lick the soft, warm sweet flesh. My tongue has no plans for its travels: it touches one breast, licks the skin in her cleavage that I can only reach by palpitating her breasts apart, then darts out along one of her curves. I can see Lisette watching me, her pupils large.
    “They’re so sensitive,” she whispers.
    “They are. I’m going to take care of them.”
    I begin caressing her breasts again, petting, gently squeezing her mounds. I’m surprised how natural they feel in my hands, primal even. I want to bury my head in their softness, lose myself in them. Now I understand why some guys go nuts when they see a girl with boobs like Lisette’s.
    Then my attention turns to what I’ve been saving for last: her pale, delicate half-dollar areolas and nipples. Lisette is breathing more heavily, and her eyes close as I begin licking the pigmented skin that protrudes slightly from the rest of her breasts, then kissing them and blowing on the wetness I leave behind. Lisette reaches out and pulls my head in close, so I gently suck one of her nipples into my mouth, its rough skin toying with my tongue. I can hear Lisette moan, so I suck a little harder on her nipple, pulling it fully into my mouth, along with her areola. I do the same to her other breast, loving the most sensitive spot on her tit gently but firmly with my lips, tongue, and even my teeth, which causes her whole body to tremble and shudder.
    I could do this for hours, pleasing her like this with my mouth, tongue, and teeth, but I can smell her musky juices and know she’s probably eager for attention elsewhere. I take her hand and pull her down on the bed next to me.
    “Are you enjoying this?” she says.
    “Very much.” My voice is husky as I place a hand on her thigh.
    “Can I ask you to do one thing?” Lisette looks almost apologetic. “Could you spank me a little? Honestly, I really like it. You can use your hand, and it doesn’t even have to be that hard.”
    I think about it, remembering how she responded to the paddling and whipping Jennifer gave her. Suddenly, I get an idea.
    “Lisette, you know I don’t like being told what to do. And you really pissed me off this afternoon.”
    Her face clouds over.
    “I … I did?”
    I stand up, cross my arms, and look down at her sternly.
    “You kept texting me, even though I told you I was busy. I was trying to shop, you know, pick out a couple dresses.”
    Lisette’s face relaxes. “I’m … I’m really sorry, Amanda. I didn’t mean to piss you off.”
    “Well, you did. And now I’m going to have to punish you.”
    Lisette is trying not to smile. She knows what’s coming. She rolls down onto the bed, arranging herself across it, but I grab her legs and tug her so her ass is bent over the edge. She braces herself in place with her legs.
    My first slap is tentative. I hate to admit it, but the only time I’ve ever hit anyone like this is when I bitch-slapped a girl in London who was getting too close to one of my dates. It ended up costing me a trip with a couple of coppers down to the neighborhood station, but nothing ever came out of it except an hour in a private cell to “cool off.” British police are so much more polite and understanding of jealous girlfriends than American cops are.
    Lisette wiggles her ass a little so that her cheeks jiggle. The motion is clearly meant to tell me, “More. More.” So I slap her ass harder. I notice I leave a handprint on her skin. This time she makes a little squeal.
    It’s actually kind of fun, spanking Lisette like this, knowing that she’s getting turned on by my actions. My next