Chapter 5

Chapter 5

The first thing that registered in my consciousness was warmth. My body seemed to be bathed in it, and I sleepily rolled onto my back, letting the warmth and light hit my eyes and sent little sparks of color behind my eyelids.

I yawned and stretched slowly, letting my back bow off the bed and my toes curl like a satisfied cat waking up from its nap. I rubbed my thighs together, feeling that delicious burn that meant I had been fucked good and proper - and more than once.

A smile played on my lips as I slowly opened my eyes, squinting them against the harsh sunlight streaming in through the floor-to-ceiling window that ran along the far wall.

The Senator's bedroom was absolutely beautiful. The rich blends of mahogany wood and black, red, and gold silk expressing his personality to a tee. It was dark and masculine mixed with little hints of light and openness. His apartments in the city seemed so generic compared to his house, where you could see little parts of him dotted all around the place.

I moved my hand over the sun-warmed sheets toward his side of the bed, hoping to curl up into him and sleep longer, but found it empty. I looked over at the clock to see that it was only nine, and after we collapsed into bed just shy of three AM from exhaustion, I would have thought he would still be asleep. I sat up slowly, dragging the sheets with me as I stumbled out of bed and into the bathroom.

One look at my hair told me that it was a lost cause-a tangled, overgrown bush probably looked better than it-so I just brushed my teeth instead.

I really shouldn't have been too surprised that the Senator was already up since his job demanded him to work long hours with little rest, but my sleep addled brain wasn't quite computing that information and was put out at waking up all alone without a handsome, naked man by my side- something that didn't happen as often as I would have liked.

I tugged my loose, polka dots boxers higher on my ass and wrapped the sheets loosely around my shoulders as I made my way downstairs, yawning. I had never really been much of a morning person, and without coffee, it could take a good hour for me to fully wake up.

My whole mind was shrouded in a thick mist as I tramped into the kitchen and out through the open patio doors, my sheet now being dragged behind me instead wrapped around me.

I tipped my head back to enjoy the sun on my face for a minute before I heard splashing from the pool. Figuring that was where he was located, I went down the patio stairs and towards it.

I stood at one end, my eyes half lidded with sleep, and watched him duck under the water as he swam in my direction. His head popped out of the water near me as he gulped in a large mouthful of air and pushed his hair out of his face, slicking it back against his head as he tilted his head up to look at me.

He smirked at me and propped himself up so that he could lean both forearms on the edge of the pool.

"You're up," he stated, seeming pleased by this. I nodded and plopped down on my ass.

"I woke up and you weren't there," I said with a pout, a slight whine of displeasure in my tone.

He lifted himself up further out of the pool, resting his weight on his right arm, while cupping my cheek with his wet hand. He angled his face to the side, brushing the tip of his nose along my own before pressing his mouth softly to mine. My lips parted slightly as I exhaled a shaky breath into his mouth, enjoying the feel of his soft, wet lips caressing mine. He tugged my bottom lip into his mouth, sucking on it as his teeth nipped gently on the plump flesh.

By the time he pulled back, my breathing was coming out in small pants and my mind was jumbled. The man knew how to induce a slow burn with just a kiss. He made all the sexual tension bubble up to the surface, blocking any and all thoughts from my mind until it was simply a blank space in my head, something that took a hell of a lot of skill and practice.

"Am I forgiven?" he asked, his voice low. I nodded dumbly; trying to shake myself out of the funk he'd pushed me into so that I could form full, coherent sentences.

"You're not a morning person, are you?" he asked with a chuckle before placing one last sweet kiss on my lips and moving back fully into the water so that he was treading water. He continued talking without waiting for me answer.

"How about I go shower, and then we can go do something fun?" he suggested, his question posed as more of a statement than a request. I pushed my hair out of my eyes, tucking it behind my ears as I nodded and clambered to my feet.

He pushed off into the water and swam over to the ladder on the far side. I watched with thinly veiled lust as the muscles of his arms flexed, and his wet skin glistened when he climbed out of the pool.

Rivulets of water cascaded down his back until they disappeared under the waistband of his tight swim shorts that hugged his ass just right. He stretched, raising his arms above his head and craning his neck to the side before sliding his hands down to his tight shorts and tugging them down his legs until they fell with a wet splat on the floor.

I sucked in a breath, my eye refusing to move away from those two little dimples at the top of his ass as he walked over to his towel and ran it through his hair. I made a noise of displeasure as he wrapped it loosely around his hips and he glanced over at me, amusement written clearly on his face.

He chuckled and sauntered into the pool house, his gait extra cocky.

I let out a small huff and went back into the kitchen, leaving the sheet out by the pool.

There was a pot of coffee already made, and I made my own very special cinnamon and orange latte.

I wandered off into the living room, coffee in hand, and switched on the wide-screen TV covering half the wall. Huge speakers framed it, and DVD players - and the Lord knows what else - sat on a shelf under it.

Men and their gadgets, I thought wryly as I sat on the plush carpet and flicked through the channels, looking for something to hold my attention. I knew the Senator would be busy for a a while so I got comfortable and lay on my stomach, making the carpet tickle my bare stomach and the curves of my tits.

I finally settled on watching Looney Tunes - it was an old classic cartoon that reminded me of the better parts of my childhood, no matter how sparse they seemed to be when I looked back on it. Plus, there's something about the simple humor of watching Wile E. the Coyote failing in catching Road Runner again and again in new, imaginative ways that sparked amusement that the new, overly done cartoons didn't.

By the time the Senator came into the room wearing black slacks and an olive green pullover with the sleeves pushed up to his elbows, I had finished my latte and was watching Bugs Bunny outsmart Elma Fudd and Daffy Duck.

He moved silently, his bare feet not making a sound as he walked across the carpet, and seated himself on the couch behind me without a word. I glanced over my shoulder at him to see him sipping from his mug, a small, nostalgic smile on his lips.

"I loved watching this when I was a child," he commented, and for a second I could just imagine him with wild hair and a chubby face, watching TV in a pair of Superman pajamas.

I sat up and scooted backwards so that I sat inside his slightly spread legs, which seemed to be calling for me to snuggle between them. I lay my head on his thigh, leaning into him as he laced his free hand through my hair and started combing his fingers through the tangled mess.

I purred like a kitten when he scratched my scalp jus right, and he chuckled. "You're like a little kitten," he mused, a hint of amusement in his tone, as I rubbed my cheek along his thigh, the TV long forgotten.

My hair was one of my weaknesses. Touch it and stroke it, and I would become a docile little kitten that just wanted to be petted. I would melt like butter in a heated pan, turn into putty in your hands, and become-dare I say-affectionate.

I let my eyes flutter closed and just relaxed back into him. My little sighs and purrs of contentment spurred him on as I pressed myself closer, arching my back when he hit a specifically sensitive spot, causing my nipples to harden.

Did I mention that it also made me horny? Having a man touch my hair was one of my turn-ons, and the Senator seemed to know just what he was doing with his hands. Then again, he always did.

I rubbed my thighs together, trying to get some much-needed friction as he continued to lavish my hair with attention. The rough fabric of his pants felt good against my sensitive, swollen nipples and I rubbed them against his leg wantonly like a cat against its scratching post, my body seeking what he could offer me.

It was only his quiet groan that snapped me out of my lust-induced haze, and I pulled back and twisted my body to face him. He stared at me, his jaw clenched and his eyes dark, and I wondered what I must look like to him. My skin flushed, my eyelids heavy and the nipples of my full, perky tits hard and searching for some relief.

I placed my hands on his thighs and lifted myself up onto my knees, leaning my body toward his, my lips parted as small pants escaped me.

"Please," I begged, not quite sure what I pleading for, but his hands immediately cupped my tits, his fingers playing with my nipples. I arched into his touch, straining my neck as my lips tried to reach his.

"Please," I begged again, and he lowered his mouth until I could feel his breath washing over my face, distinct traces of coffee laced into it. He tilted his head to the side, his eyes darting from my eyes to my lips, and I swear I felt my bottom lip tremble in anticipation as he hovered, teasing me.

It was sudden and without warning the way he captured my lips, his mouth harsh and dominating, silently telling me where my place was. It took me a moment to realize that this was what I had been asking of him. My "please" had been a plea for him to reinforce the claim he had over me, to remind me of my submission to him, even if it was only for the weekend.

He rolled the straining buds of my nipples between his fingers expertly as his tongue entered my mouth and plundered it, taking what he saw to be his freely.

I moaned quietly in his mouth, and he pulled back, prizing my hands from where they had buried themselves in his hair, making his usually neat hair stick up all over the place. I opened my mouth to protest against the injustice of him moving away, but he placed a finger on my lips, silencing any attempts of speech.

"Are you sore?" he asked, which to be honest was a pretty valid question since we had spent the last day fucking like an apocalypse was about to hit us, and the fate of mankind rested on our shoulders-so sue me, I liked sci-fi's.

I mulled over his question for a moment, knowing that while I was indeed sore, it wasn't enough for me not to have him again.

"A little," I finally admitted, thinking that the truth wouldn't hurt.

He stared at me for a long moment, looking deep in my eyes for something. "But?" he encouraged, knowing that there was more to what I was saying than what I had admitted.

"I want you anyway. I don't mind being a little sore if I still get to have this." I reached into his lap and cupped the semi straining through his slacks, squeezing and palming him gently.

He let out a surprised, choked groan and grasped my wrist tightly in his hand, stopping my movements.

"Unless you intend to put that pretty little mouth to good use and suck me off, then I wouldn't do that," he warned.

Embodied by his words, I didn't hesitate in tugging his belt open and trying to get him out of his pants. He was compliant with my impatient yanking and relaxed back into the couch, a groan fresh on his lips as I unzipped him, releasing some of the pressure that had pressed against his cock. I reached into his slacks and was surprised when my hand connected with bare skin.

Someone came prepared.

I wrapped my hand around his erection and pulled him out of the opening of his slacks, loving the feel of the hot, silky, hard flesh throbbing in my palm.

I ran my fingers over him, the red, swollen head glistening and just begging for my tongue to lap it up.

I had never gone so far as to say a cock was beautiful, and I had seen my fair share of cocks, but there were some with that perfect, thick girth-ones with enough length to hit you right where you wanted them to when they're inside of you. The kind that you just have to take one look at before knowing with complete certainty that it will be going in your mouth no matter what. That is the kind of cock you wanted to have. The kind women made shrines around to worship.

It didn't really matter if it was slightly crooked or if his balls were big and hairy. If a man could get you to lust after his cock, to make you beg and plead for just a little taste of it, then he held more power than he knew he had.

The Senator seemed to take good care of his body, and I had been pleased to find that not only was he well endowed, but that he trimmed his balls, which was something I had always preferred. It made them more sensitive and easier to get off.

I pulled my hair back out of my face as I leaned forward, my mouth open wide as I took the tip between my lips. His hips lifted upward slightly, and he gathered my hair in his hands, twisting and wrapping it around his hands so that he could control my movements.

"I've missed this so much," he muttered, more to himself than to me as he started thrusting up into my mouth, and I couldn't help but silently agree with him. When the weeks had gone by without any word from him, I had started to worry that maybe - somehow - I had pushed him too far, which seemed implausible to me since he was the one doing all the pushing.

I had been pretty relieved when I was told that he wanted me for the weekend, and while I was a little reluctant to spend so much time with him-two days of constant contact can be daunting when you're in character-I had agreed with little fuss.

But even at the last appointment I had not had the pleasure of sucking his cock, and it was something I enjoyed immensely, even if his cum wasn't the tastiest thing around.

I had never understood how some people didn't swallow. If you're going to suck cock, then you might as well do it properly.

Go hard, or go home.

Truth be told, I was being a little hypocritical since the first few times I tried going down on someone - way back when I was in college - I hadn't wanted to swallow, and it took me a while before I could stomach it without immediately wanting to throw it back up. Nothing is more attractive than someone who looks like they're about to throw up after sucking your cock.

I could laugh at my younger self now, thinking about how innocent and naive I had been when I first came to the big city and how different I was now.

Jaded and cynical were just a few words to describe me.

He guided my head, and I nearly rejoiced at tasting his musky, salty pre-cum against my tongue. I let my eyes close as my hands ran up and down his thighs, the feel of the fabric of his pants helping me concentrate on relaxing my throat. I bobbed up and down around him, his hips lifting and thrusting in time with my movements, making me take a little more of him with each pass.

I carefully scraped my teeth along his length, feeling every ridge and dip press gently against them as he groaned and cursed.

"Urgh, Bellezza," he grunted as his cock twitched and his fingers flexed.

My tongue followed the path of my teeth, soothing any irritation they could have caused. I paused slightly when I reached the tip, dipping my tongue underneath the hood of skin and sucking on it, knowing that it would drive him absolutely crazy.

His hips jerked up, and I felt a shudder wash through his body as he threw his head back and tensed up his muscles. He kept my head still as he tried to get his body under control and most likely stop himself from cumming right there and then.

He panted heavily as he started thrusting in my mouth again, only slower this time. I could tell he was trying to draw this out, so I kept things simple and just sucked on him enthusiastically.

There was just something about having something so stiff and thick in your mouth when you knew that you were the reason they were aroused that made you drench your panties-or boxers in my case-and got your clit throbbing.

I shifted my position slightly as my thoughts turned in the direction of my own arousal so that I could stealthily reach between my legs and stroke my pussy. I groaned around his erection as my fingers brushed against my swollen clit.

"Fuck, Bellezza, are you touching your sweet, little pussy?" he grunted, and I hummed and tried to nod a yes to him. "Is my little girl horny? Does sucking Papi's cock make you wet?"

My eyelids fluttered closed, and I nodded again as best as I could. I whimpered, rubbing my clit faster as my hips started rocking back and forth, his words only adding fire to the flames coiling inside of me.

Between him stroking my hair and me sucking his cock, I wasn't too surprised to find myself slick and close to the edge already. I could also tell by the way he twitched and throbbed in my mouth that it wouldn't take much to make him cum.

I placed my free hand on his hip and relaxed my throat as I tried to take more of him into my mouth with each pass. I slid my mouth down him carefully, and he let me control the pace, anticipating what I was doing. I angled my head so that he could slip down my throat before swallowing around him, making my throat constrict.

His foot slammed against the floor as his cock stiffened further and twitched in my mouth, his orgasm hitting him unexpectedly. I rubbed my clit enthusiastically, moaning and whimpering around him as he pulsed down my throat in thick streams.

One last flick on my clit pushed me over the edge and I fell, trying to concentrate on swallowing his cum at the same time as having my own orgasm.

My body shuddered and shook lightly, pleasure shivering down my spine as the hot flesh in my mouth calmed, resting between my lips as I came down from my orgasm.

I pulled back, letting him slip from my mouth and leaned my head on his thigh, just reveling in the peace surrounding me. My heart beat quickly in my chest as I panted quietly, sweat leaving a light sheen on my skin. I could still feel his cum saturating my taste buds, but I honestly couldn't think of a better way to just relax.

The smell of sex hung lightly in the air, and I inhaled it with every breath I took, the scent intoxicating as my mind wandered back to what we had just done. The post-coital glow was one of my favorite parts of sex. It was quiet and calm, no awkwardness or need to fill in the silence, only harsh breaths and tangled limbs.

It was a time suspended between the pleasure that you could still feel tingling through your body and the inevitable realization of what that pleasure had cost you.

"Bellezza," he called, and my head snapped up as my thoughts refocused on the present.

"Give me your hand," he ordered.

I slipped my hand out of my boxers and offered my glistening fingers up to him with no hesitation. He grasped my wrist tightly as he dipped his head down and sucked my fingers into his mouth, groaning at the taste of my arousal.

My lips parted as a breath managed to stutter its way out of my mouth, wondering how he had the unfailing ability to turn me on no matter what. Once he deemed my fingers sufficiently clean, he pulled back and looked at me with an almost sad expression.

"I'm afraid I'm going to have to punish you," he said, sighing.

My mouth dropped open. "What! Why?" I argued indignantly, not wanting to be punished for nothing.

His expression hardened at my tone, and he leaned back in his chair, eyeing me with a warning in his eye. "Do you remember what I told you in the car on the way over?" he asked, and I wracked my brain furiously to try to figure out what he was talking about.

The drive over was a bit of a blur to me. I remembered him fingering me and fucking me, but anything else had slipped through the cracks.

Once he saw that I seemed a little blank, he started talking again. "I informed you clearly that every little part of your body belonged to me, did I not?" he asked. I nodded slowly, knowing that I wouldn't like the direction this was heading in.

"Good, because I do not like people touching what's mine, especially without my permission, is that understood?" His voice was calm and firm, but I detected a hard edge that warned me that arguing would only make my punishment worse.

I ducked my head, refusing to look him in the eye as I nodded my consent, knowing that I was going to be punished for touching myself without permission.

"Yes, Papi," I whispered, "I'm sorry."

He placed his hand under my chin, urging me to lift my head so that he could meet my eyes. I looked up shyly to see that his expression had softened somewhat, but I still felt chagrined over the fact that I had inadvertently disobeyed him.

"Ten swats will be enough of a warning for now, but I will have to take away some of your privileges," he decided, and I let out a sigh of relief, thankful that the punishment hadn't been harsher, causing him to raise his eyebrows at me. "Do it again, and I will spank your ass so hard that sitting will be a luxury that you will have to learn to live without," he added tersely, and I didn't dare doubt his words for a second.

"Yes, Papi," I said submissively, and he seemed pleased with my response.

He nodded his appreciation at my words before squaring his shoulders and becoming the firm, dominating man that I had come to know well.

"Good. Now, since it was your pussy that you touched without my permission, you will no longer be able to wear panties or any kind of bottoms for the rest of the day. You will also have the privilege of orgasms taken away unless I feel that you have sufficiently earned it. Your job today is to service me in any way I see fit, and I don't want to hear whining or complaining because it will only earn you another spanking. Am I clear?"

I nodded. "Yes, Papi," I mumbled, discontented, all feelings of my post-coital bliss dashed to pieces.

"Bend over the arm of the couch and take your underwear off," he commanded. I slowly got to my feet and did as I was told. I tugged my boxers down, letting them pool at my feet as I bent over the arm of the couch, my upper half lying along it as I laid my cheek against the cool leather.

He moved behind me, his footsteps as silent as they were before, and my heartbeat against my chest loudly as blood rushed into my ears. I jumped as I felt him place his hands on the ample curves of my ass, cupping the ripe flesh gently in his palms. He ran his hands up and down my ass, soothing me and relaxing my tense muscles.

"I want you to say, 'Thank you, Papi' after each swat," he informed me, his voice quiet and soft, completely belaying his next action.

I hadn't even been expecting it.

One minute I was bent over the arm of the couch, and the next a stinging burn radiated through me, the pain shooting up my spine as I jerked against the couch. My eyes slammed shut.

"Thank you, Papi," I whimpered out between clenched teeth as he rubbed my ass to lessen the sting slightly. I knew that this wasn't too hard a swat. He would build up to the harder ones, slowly warming up my ass so that I would be able to take the harsher ones, but it didn't mean that he was being gentle right now.

It was a punishment, plain and simple, and the swats wouldn't be like the ones he gave me when we fucked. No, there was nothing playful about them; he was getting his point across, and he wanted me to remember the lesson he was teaching me.

Just thinking about not being able to sit down for the rest of day without discomfort made the feel of his hand connecting with my ass that much worse.

"Thank you, Papi," I forced out.

There was nothing particularly pleasant about being spanked for punishment, but I had found that it was a lot more cleansing than going to confession-something that my mother forced me to do as a child.

There was a certain amount of finality in being spanked. Once you had taken your punishment - in whatever way he chose to give it - you immediately put it behind you, and you never had to fear of it being brought up or being embarrassed or ashamed about it ever again.

"Thank you, Papi."

It happened, you got punished, and then you moved on, no lingering or dawdling on the topic necessary. It was a perk that I wished was true in religion, but from how my parents acted - and they claimed to be devote Catholics - it seemed to be a bit of a stretch in my mind.

Don't get me wrong, I believed in the Big Guy upstairs, but there was only so much sinning you could do before even He got a little put out with you, and let's just say that I sinned in some of the worst ways on a daily basis. I wasn't even sure I could enter a church without bursting into flames like a vampire.

I winced as his hand came down on an already sore spot. "Thank you, Papi."

I was glad that he spread out the swats, hitting the curve, then the full cheek, even going as far as to deliver one to my pussy, and I wasn't embarrassed to say I kind of liked the pain - to the certain extent that I was wet, but not particularly horny.

My eyes prickled as tears of pain formed in them, and I bit down on my lip, trying to control my body as it shook lightly, my legs quivering."Th-Th-Thank you, Papi," I stuttered, feeling the extra force put into the particular swat as they reached their crescendo.

I clenched my ass, hoping to reduce some of the burn without reaching back and rubbing the sore skin, something that would undoubtedly cause him to add more swats to my punishment. "Tha-thank you, Papi," I said weakly, trying not to choke on the lump forming in my throat.

"Louder," he ordered as pain radiated through me, and I fought to stop a stray tear from leaking.

"Thank you, Papi," I said as strong as my shaking voice would allow me to, pushing down the sob that was threatening to burst.

His hand came down even harder than before. "I can't hear you," he goaded.

"THANK YOU, PAPI!" I practically screamed the words out as something inside me snapped, causing a sob tear through me. If he wanted it loud, I would give him loud.

It felt almost therapeutic as I screamed the rest of my thank you's at the top of my lungs in between my sobs. It was freeing, being able to shout and scream, knowing that no one would hear me, and excitement welled up in me as I finished taking my swats and collapsed forward, my breaths coming out in fast pants.

It was almost as if I was detached from my brain as my mind separated, going in two different directions as it tried to list the different feelings and emotions going through me. There was pain mixed in with adrenaline. Excitement mixed with sadness. My body tingled and throbbed, cold flushes mixed with intense burning.

I hissed as I felt something cool touch my ass and tried to squirm away from it, but I felt a hand on my hip, holding my body in place, his nails digging into my flesh in a silent warning. I slumped back against the couch, my sweaty skin feeling uncomfortable against the leather as he rubbed moisturizer over my cheeks.

I wondered how he could make me feel so special right after he had just punished me, but I guess it was his consideration and the fact that he didn't hesitate to make me feel better-at least in the long run-without pausing to think about it. It just came naturally to him.

Once he was done, he tugged lightly on the end of my hair, rousing me from where I had been slowly slipping back to sleep.

"Up you get," he murmured as he helped me up on my two feet. I couldn't help running my hands over my ass, the sensitive skin still smarting. He picked me up, and I wrapped my legs around his waist and buried my head in his neck. He brought me upstairs, not pausing in the bedroom, but going straight to the bathroom.

He placed me, standing, in the polished white claw foot tub seated in the middle of the room. I turned around as I heard a whirring and watched what I had thought was a wall slowly slid up to reveal a floor-to-ceiling window. Light flooded the dimly lit room, and I squealed as cold water hit me from out of nowhere.

I looked up to find that it was coming straight from a shower head connected to the ceiling. The showerhead lowered slowly as the water heated up quickly, and I marveled at the technology that he had in his bathroom.

The dark, marble tiles that lay on the floor and walls contrasted nicely to silvers and white of the appliances. The room was bigger than my bedroom and had an open floor plan. It was masculine, yet stylish and held that hint of Italian that seemed to be the dominant theme of his house.

I was so busy looking at the beauty of the room that I hadn't noticed that he had stripped out of his clothes and joined me until he pressed himself into my back, standing with me under the warm spray of the water. He brushed my hair off my right shoulder and kissed up the column of my neck as his hands wandered over my body.

I turned around, pulling myself flush against him, feeling his erection against my stomach.

"Do you need me to service you, Papi?" I asked him sweetly, all thoughts of my ass pushed to the back of my mind.

His chest rumbled with a groan, and he rutted his hips forward, pushing and rubbing his hard cock against my hip. "I think I would like that, Bellezza. I think I would like that a lot."