FILL - Lay It On Me (1/3)salmon_pinkJune 23 2012, 19:12:40 UTC
A prompt that combines Ev and spanking was too much for me to resist!
Dinah has no idea why she’s even doing this.
Well, all those strawberry daiquiris might have something to do with it.
She really should have learned back in college that fruity drinks are the devil, because it makes it too damn hard to keep track of how much she’s drinking.
She really should have learned back in college that mixing Ev and alcohol is never a good idea, fruity drinks or otherwise.
But she’s here and she’s doing this and Ev’s wearing a thong and Dinah’s staring.
The thong is plain black but made of this satin-like material that catches the light a little and Dinah is definitely staring
( ... )
FILL - Lay It On Me (2/3)salmon_pinkJune 23 2012, 19:13:48 UTC
She slaps Ev’s ass, the pleased groan Ev can’t hold back burning her ears. She doesn’t wait to watch the white skin turn pink this time, just spanks her again, again, feeling the force of each blow shoving Ev’s hips down against her lap. Somehow her other hand has settled on the small of Ev’s back, holding her steady, holding her down, and Ev’s making a steady stream of sound, gasping and cooing, noises that sound somewhere between a laugh and a moan.
It’s only her arm moving but Dinah can feel herself breathing heavily, feel herself sweating, damp moisture along her hairline and heat burning in her chest and belly. Heat burning lower, and she can feel her pulse throbbing between her legs, toes curling in the shaggy fabric of the bedside rug.
She could fall into a rhythm, but somehow she won’t let herself. Keeps the blows erratic, never letting Ev guess when the next one will fall, where the next one will fall. Slapping each cheek, individually and across both, occasionally hitting the tops of Ev’s thighs, slapping high and low, and
( ... )
FILL - Lay It On Me (3/3)salmon_pinkJune 23 2012, 19:14:36 UTC
It isn’t fair that Ev can recover as quickly as does, but almost as soon as Dinah’s hand has slid free from her thong, Ev’s pushing up on to her knees, roughly shoving Dinah back against the bed. Her eyes are still wild, but a different kind of wild, hazy and shocked and fucked-out and still hungry, and she’s not smirking anymore
( ... )
Dinah has no idea why she’s even doing this.
Well, all those strawberry daiquiris might have something to do with it.
She really should have learned back in college that fruity drinks are the devil, because it makes it too damn hard to keep track of how much she’s drinking.
She really should have learned back in college that mixing Ev and alcohol is never a good idea, fruity drinks or otherwise.
But she’s here and she’s doing this and Ev’s wearing a thong and Dinah’s staring.
The thong is plain black but made of this satin-like material that catches the light a little and Dinah is definitely staring ( ... )
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It’s only her arm moving but Dinah can feel herself breathing heavily, feel herself sweating, damp moisture along her hairline and heat burning in her chest and belly. Heat burning lower, and she can feel her pulse throbbing between her legs, toes curling in the shaggy fabric of the bedside rug.
She could fall into a rhythm, but somehow she won’t let herself. Keeps the blows erratic, never letting Ev guess when the next one will fall, where the next one will fall. Slapping each cheek, individually and across both, occasionally hitting the tops of Ev’s thighs, slapping high and low, and ( ... )
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