Category Archives: Uncategorized
“Brackford Hall”: A Review
Thank you so much for this wonderful review!
Bundles, Re-tellings, and Evil Princesses: the latest from Lianah Morgan!
Please accept my sincerest apologies for going AWOL this fall. Sometimes Real Life leaves no room for Smut Life! I’d just like to update you all on a few things:
New Value Bundles!
If you’ve been holding off on picking up the Stacy or Brackford books after enjoying the samples here, you might be interested in these new bundles.
Spanking Stacy: Books One & Two Value Bundle: Includes Stacy and the Father of the Bride as well as Stacy’s Room. Just $3.99! Buy Links: Amazon | Nook | Smashwords | AllRomance | (Coming Soon to Google Play)
Praise for Stacy and the Father of the Bride: “Wow. I won’t ruin anything, but damn is this story hot. I mean scorching hot. ” — Amazon Reviews
“This is a quick, hot read. Very well written and so so naughty. Highly recommend for lovers of erotica. Loved it!” — Amazon Reviews
…and be on the look out for Book 3!
Brackford Hall: Books One & Two Value Bundle: Includes Brackford Hall and Return to Brackford. Just $3.99! Buy Link: Amazon (this bundle is Amazon exclusive until Book One’s KDP exclusivity period expires).
Praise for Return to Brackford: “If you like stories of public upper class society with secrets behind closed doors, you’ll love this. Lady in the streets / slut in the sheets is this story to a tee.” — Amazon Reviews
A New Re-Telling!
If you’ve never read Meet the Jansens and you like your erotica with a bit more diversity, you might just enjoy Meet the Johnsons, an interracial re-telling of my very first release. Meet the Johnsons is available to borrow for FREE through the Kindle Unlimited program.
Meet the Jansens (the original, also available to borrow on KU!)
A New Original Fairy Tale Adaptation!
Based on the turn-of-the-century fairy tale The Necklace of Princess Fiorimonde by Mary de Morgan, Fiorimonde’s Necklace (Book One) is a NAUGHTY adaptation available exclusively on Amazon for $2.99 or FREE through Kindle Unlimited.
What’s more, at midnight on November 10th, Fiorimonde’s Necklace will be available for just 99 cents! On the 13th, the price will hike up to $1.99, and on November 17th, the price will go back to $2.99. Don’t miss your chance to save when you meet the evil Princess Fiorimonde!
Week of November 10th: The Family Business: Book Two — In which Uncle Don bends Kelly over the hood of his hot rod. Watch this space for a cover reveal and preview! (Read book one: Amazon | Nook | Smashwords | AllRomance | Google Play )
Thanks for reading!
An Excerpt From Stacy’s Room, the latest from Lianah Morgan
From my latest release, Stacy’s Room:
Stacy nodded again. The buzzing sound came back. Without even unbuttoning her shorts, Mr. McCormick slipped the vibrator down into her panties, positioning it precisely against her clit. The tight shorts kept the vibrator snugly in place and Stacy flailed, unable to handle the sensation mixed with Mr. McCormick actually being in her room, inches away.
Without warning, he took Stacy roughly by the wrist and bent her arm behind her back.
“Give me the other one, you naughty slut,” Mr. McCormick ordered. Obediently, Stacy placed her other hand behind her back. Silk rubbed against silk again as he bound her hands behind her with what Stacy assumed was another piece of black fabric identical to the one covering her eyes. With both hands tied behind her back, her eyes blindfolded, and the little vibrator buzzing snugly against her clit, Stacy could barely contain the orgasm she felt was finally near. Her body trembled and shook, and remaining upright became an arduous task. Mr. McCormick loomed over her.
“Don’t you dare come, little girl. Show Daddy that you have some self-control.”
Stacy tried hard to comply, but her body was hungry for release and she couldn’t stop herself from quaking. The vibrator buzzed against her silken folds and her panties became soaked with the wetness gushing forth from her throbbing pussy. Stacy gritted her teeth and did her best to stave off her climax, but it was impossible. Waves of pleasure wracked her body. Unable to take it anymore, she cried out and doubled over in pleasure, feeling guilty all the while. Her arms struggled against their bonds as Stacy tried in vain to reach around and remove the vibrator from her panties before it drove her insane.
At last, Mr. McCormick wrapped his arms around Stacy’s waist and stood her upright. He slid his hand down into her shorts and removed the vibrator, clicking it off as he did so. Stacy kept trembling, out of anticipation or guilt—she wasn’t sure.
“What did Daddy tell you, Stacy?”
“Not to come. I’m so sorry Daddy, I tried—”
“No excuses. I’m afraid I’m going to have to discipline you. Self-control is going to be very important for you in the coming years, Stacy.”
“Yes, Daddy,” she whimpered.
She heard him plunk down on a cardboard box behind her. Unable to see or move her hands, Stacy wasn’t entirely sure what to do next. She stood where she was, awkwardly wobbling to keep her balance, until Mr. McCormick grabbed her by the bonds that held her wrists together and pulled her toward him. He reached around to unfasten her shorts and then tugged them down around her thighs.
“Bend over Daddy’s lap, little girl,” he commanded.
Read the rest!
Throwback Taboo Tuesday
From my debut release:
Guy noted with pleasure that Chrissy was the perfect height to be taken over the counter. Suddenly afraid that she would run away after his forceful outburst, Guy reached for his boxers. Before he could get his hands on them, Chrissy spun around. Guy froze. They were standing so close to one another that her perky nipples grazed him through her t-shirt. She touched the tip of her tongue to the top of her lip, and as she slowly began to kneel down before Guy in the small space between his body and the counter she said,
“No. Let me.”
Chrissy tugged Guy’s boxers down to his knees and freed his aching cock while he looked down at her in complete shock. Her tongue darted out to wet her lips again as she wrapped her hand around the base of his erection.
While Guy gripped her shoulders for balance, Chrissy slid her mouth over the veins and ridges of his cock, moving tantalizingly slowly. Guy placed his trembling hand upon the nape of Chrissy’s neck and pushed her ever so slightly, encouraging her to take more and more of him in her mouth—but not so much that she might choke. Guy didn’t want to do anything to break the strange spell that had taken hold in his kitchen. He glanced at their reflection in the sliding glass patio doors and groaned with pleasure at the sight of Chrissy on her knees before him, taking him eagerly in her mouth as the blue water of the pool’s lights cast an eerie glow on the entire tableau.
As Chrissy sucked and licked and preened for him, Guy felt himself losing control. He wanted to slam his cock into Chrissy’s face, to debase her, but he held back. He’d probably never get another chance to fuck anyone as young and hot and maybe tight as she was sure to be, and he didn’t want to ruin it. Chrissy peered up at him with her mouth full of his cock and smiled. She swirled her tongue wantonly around his sensitive tip, rising up and down on her knees as she pleasured him. Guy nearly came at the sight, but he continued to restrain himself. With one hand still placed gently on the back of Chrissy’s bobbing head, Guy gripped the counter for balance with the other. He gasped at the sensation when Chrissy slowly drew his entire penis into her mouth without gagging at all. He grabbed her head with both hands and held her there for a moment; his entire cock sheathed in her mouth, feeling more powerful than he had in years.
Overcome, Guy shut his eyes, wondering if he could will himself to come down her throat. She deserved it.
Chrissy grunted and squirmed, drawing him out of his reverie. Guy opened his eyes and yanked his hands away, mortified. Her mouth began to slip away from his throbbing erection.
“I’m sorry–I…” he sputtered.
“Shh,” she cooed, smiling up at him as he sprang free of her mouth.
Guy felt panic rising in his throat. Surely this was some kind of a trick—a test of some sort—and now he would surely have to pay for violating his stepson’s girlfriend. He wondered if she would scream.
Instead, she slid her wet, pink lips back over his cock. She moved faster now, sucking harder and harder, taking him deeper and deeper into her throat as Guy’s body tightened. He felt a knot of heat in his loins and knew that he only had a few seconds before he found his release.
“Oh, god damn,” he gasped. Guy grabbed Chrissy’s head roughly and shoved himself fully back into her throat, thrusting gently. He heard her gag a little. Power coursed through Guy’s body then; and raw energy pulsed through his veins as he began to climax. His cock spasmed inside Chrissy’s mouth and throat. Somehow, Guy still managed to be shocked when Chrissy gulped and swallowed without so much as a cough. She deserved a reward.
Guy released his grip on Chrissy’s head, and she eagerly ran her tongue up and down the length of him, looking up for approval as she did so. He waited until she lapped up every last drop of his seed before finally saying,
Buy Links: Amazon | Nook | Smashwords | Google Play | AllRomance
And don’t forget to visit the other blogs on the Taboo Tuesday Blog Hop!
|1.||Raya Ezelle||2.||Emily Tilton|
#SatSpanks – June 14th
Excerpt from ‘Stacy’s Room,’ the upcoming sequel to ‘Stacy and the Father of the Bride:’
“Unable to see or move her hands, Stacy wasn’t entirely sure what to do next until Mr. McCormick grabbed her by the bonds that held her wrists together and pulled her toward him. He reached around to unfasten her shorts and then tugged them down around her thighs.
“Bend over Daddy’s lap, little girl,” he commanded.
Stacy moved one bare foot to feel out exactly where he was and then bent over Mr. McCormick’s lap. She was wearing the same black lace panties she’d worn to Amber’s wedding, which seemed fitting. With no way to know what Mr. McCormick was doing, Stacy couldn’t help but brace herself for impact. She clenched her buttocks—mostly involuntarily—and waited. Just as she began to relax, Mr. McCormick’s hand struck her bottom with a loud smack. ”
Please do visit all the other great blogs on that #SatSpanks blog hop!
An Excerpt from ‘The Family Business’
(Author’s Note: Don is not actually Kelly’s uncle. He’s her father’s childhood best friend.)
Amazon | Nook | Smashwords | AllRomance | Google Play/Books
“I’m not a bad girl, Uncle Don. I’m a very good girl.” She rolled her body ever so slightly, making him shudder. The pounding of her heart and the sheer terror of getting caught gave her a thrill that made her shiver with desire. Don fiddled with the stocking ribbons again as he admonished her.
“Are you really? Do good girls come into their Daddy’s offices dressed up like sluts?”
Kelly bit her lip briefly and then looked down at him with a “who me?” expression.
“You’re not my Daddy,” she pouted.
“I’m not?” he asked, sliding one hand just under the edge of Kelly’s little skirt. His thumb played against the edge of Kelly’s panties and she fought to stop herself from trembling. She draped her arms loosely around Don’s neck and leaned over to whisper in his ear.
“No. But I know that you really want to be.”
His body stiffened all over and his eyebrows knit together while he regarded her warily.
“Is that so?”
“I think it is. Am I really a bad girl, Daddy?” she cooed as she sat back up, trailing a finger over the arm of his crisp, white shirt, nearly swooning at the muscles underneath.
Uncle Don took a series of deep, ragged breaths before pulling her head towards his to whisper huskily in her ear.
“I think you know what a bad girl you are, Kel-Kel.” He began to nibble at her earlobe. The sensation of his teeth and tongue in such a sensitive spot made Kelly tingle all over, and she felt a gush of wetness in her panties as she arched her back and undulated her body ever so slightly against his.
“Oh no, Daddy. I’m a good girl, I promise. I’d never do anything bad.”
“Then why are you sitting in my lap dressed like a slut and rubbing yourself against my cock like a cat in heat, hm?”
He raised his eyebrows at her.
“I—I don’t know, Daddy. I’m not trying to be bad.”
“Kel-Kel, good girls don’t act like this.”
“No. They don’t.”
Uncle Don began to rub his hands up and down Kelly’s sides, making her squirm with pleasure whenever they coursed over bare skin.
“What should we do with you, Kel-Kel?” he asked.
“I don’t know Daddy,” she replied, really getting into it now, “have I really been a bad girl?”
“Not nearly as bad as you’re going to be.”
As he spoke, he slid his hands along Kelly’s arms to take her by the wrists. His grip was so hard that Kelly feared he would leave bruises as he yanked her arms down and pinned them to her sides. Everything about his demeanor had changed. Moments ago, he’d been light and teasing, but now there was a hardness in his eyes that scared Kelly. She remained astride him for the moment, unable to take back control of the situation, feeling both terrified and exhilarated as she waited to see what he would do.
At last, Don made up his mind. Still gripping Kelly’s wrists, he pushed her from his lap without warning. She nearly crumbled to the floor at his sudden movement, her fall broken only by the strength with which he held her up. Don was on his feet too, and in one fluid movement he let go of one of Kelly’s wrists and yanked her other arm, spinning her around. He loomed behind her, his warm breath tickling Kelly’s neck.
“Bend over,” he ordered at last.
She’d expected this. Kelly complied, putting her free hand on the desk and bending slightly over it.
“All the way, slut!”
Kelly jumped, more surprised by the slur than she ought to have been considering the contents of Don’s browser history. When she failed to immediately follow his order, Uncle Don let go of her other wrist, wound a fistful of her long blonde hair around his hand and tugged downward, forcing Kelly to bend over the desk at nearly a ninety degree angle. The little plaid skirt rode up to the point where it only covered about half of her ass, and Kelly could feel the way it fell just shy of the edge of her boy-cut black lace panties. She wanted to turn around and look at Don, but his hand was still fisted in her hair so tightly that she couldn’t turn her head at all.
Don lifted what little of Kelly’s skirt kept her covered, gently pushing the fabric so that it draped over her waist. Her ass was completely exposed now but for her black lace panties, and Kelly flexed the muscles of her bottom, hardening her ass cheeks in anticipation of the blow she was sure to receive at any moment. The sound of her own pounding heart filled Kelly’s ears, and she wondered just how much a spanking was going to hurt. She’d never gotten one before.
Kelly was pleasantly surprised when, instead of hitting her, Uncle Don gently squeezed each side of her bottom in turn and then rubbed his hand appreciatively across it. In his reverie, Don’s grip on Kelly’s hair loosened somewhat, so she craned her neck to get a look at him. His mouth was twisted into a predatory smile and his eyes were locked on Kelly’s ass for the most part, though he also took a moment to trail his gaze appreciatively down her shapely legs. When he noticed Kelly looking at him, Uncle Don’s expression turned to stone and Kelly began to quake with the strangest combination of fear and titillation as he scolded her.
“Did I say you could look at me, you naughty little brat?” he growled.
“No Daddy. No you didn’t say I could look. I’m sorry Daddy.”
“It’s clear to me that you’re a filthy little slut, Kel-Kel. Do you know what happens to filthy little sluts?”
“I’m not a slut Daddy, I promise. Please don’t punish me!” she begged. Kelly could no longer tell whether she was playing a part or playing along, all she knew was that she wanted Don to do whatever he wanted with her. Or to her. She absolutely ached to please him.
“I’m sorry sweetie, but you need to be a taught a lesson. I don’t know what’s gotten into you.”
Before she could say anything else, Don raised his hand and brought it back down upon her bottom with a loud, hard smack. Kelly clenched her muscles instinctively. It worked, somewhat, but her ass still stung and tingled in the place where Uncle Don had spanked it. To Kelly’s surprise, she found that the sensation was not entirely unpleasant. In fact, she almost enjoyed it, but Uncle Don had noticed the tightening of her muscles as his hand connected with Kelly’s bottom, and he wasn’t happy.
“Don’t you dare try to make your punishment hurt less, Kel-Kel. How are you going to learn your lesson if you can’t feel the consequences?”
She winced, anticipating another blow presently. But nothing came.
“Answer me, slut.”
“I don’t know, Daddy.”
“You don’t know what?”
“I don’t know how I’ll learn. I’ve been terribly naughty. Maybe you had better try again?”
He yanked her hair and pulled Kelly backward until she was nearly standing.
“Don’t tell me what I should do, slut,” he growled in her ear as his hand connected with Kelly’s ass again. There was no time to tense up, and Kelly’s ass jiggled in the wake of the blow. Don pushed her back down and she squirmed against the desk, wincing in pain as another blow connected with her tingling cheeks, and then another, and another. Kelly lost count of how many times Don spanked her as the throbbing sensation between her thighs slowly eclipsed the sting of the hard smacks against her ass. To Kelly’s great surprise, she found herself moaning with pleasure as Uncle Don punished her again and again…
Finish the story: Amazon | Nook | Smashwords | AllRomance | Google Play/Books
Sample Sunday: ‘Stacy and the Father of the Bride’
Buy Links: Amazon | Smashwords | AllRomance | Nook | Google Play
The bridal suite was sumptuous, with a large oak canopy bed dominating the room from atop a short platform. Sheer white curtains hung around the bed frame, blowing slightly in the sea breeze coming in through the balcony doors. There was a small sitting area with a fireplace, and above the mantelpiece hung a large mirror which happened to be directly across from the foot of the bed. Stacy couldn’t help but giggle at the thought of Amber watching herself lose her virginity at last.
Stacy tossed another fistful of rose petals haphazardly onto the plush bedspread. Even as she dutifully prepared her best friend’s honeymoon suite, Stacy still couldn’t believe Amber was getting married straight out of high school. Ever since eighth grade, Stacy had been Amber & Jason’s third wheel. She’d even helped Jason set up an over-the-top proposal on the beach after their junior (his senior) prom. Still, Stacy never thought the idiots would actually go through with it.
But here she was, one hour out from the Blessed Event, preparing the room in which Jason would finally deflower Amber, who swore that she was still a virgin. Stacy (who was not) believed her. When their youth pastor presented them with purity contracts in sixth grade, Amber signed hers with aplomb, and her parents bought her a little silver ring to celebrate. Not that Stacy had never been awkwardly banished from Amber’s bedroom while she and Jason did everything but have sex. More often than not, Stacy spent early evenings watching the waves crash on the shoreline below the wraparound balcony of her childhood friend’s house—even though she had no especially compelling reason to be there anymore. She often used the excuse that Jason was her only ride home, which was partly true. Stacy could call her mother, but her mother would hold the “favor” over her head for months. Either way, even hanging out mostly alone at Amber’s house was better than trying not to step on any toes in the cramped apartment Stacy shared with her mother and two half-brothers. Mr. McCormick had always been cool about her hanging around, but some weeks Stacy felt like she spent more time with Amber’s dad than with Amber.
She had a bit of a crush on him. When the family was out in public together, Mr. McCormick always seemed the picture of a proper wealthy Christian father. He attended purity balls with his only daughter; he attended charity galas with his wife, and every now and then he’d let the men’s worship team prod him into playing guitar at the big Sunday service. And yet, when he and Stacy were alone he knew perfectly well that Amber and Jason were also alone. Mrs. McCormick was usually too busy at the Women in Christ something-or-other to even be home. Stacy didn’t understand how a father so deeply concerned with the preservation of his daughter’s so-called virtue could stand to let her hang out alone in a locked room with her boyfriend, but she never thought to question it. Instead, she let Mr. McCormick become something of a surrogate father, albeit a very attractive one who she occasionally thought about while she touched herself. During evenings together last fall he’d helped Stacy with her college applications, and he even leaned on one of his contacts to get her into USC.
One night not long before graduation, Stacy came back from getting a soda to find Amber’s room locked. She sighed and slipped out onto the balcony. Her eighteenth birthday had been just a week before, and she’d bought a pack of cigarettes mostly as a joke. Stacy hadn’t opened them yet, but now she wondered if what they said about nicotine relieving stress was true. The wedding plans had gone on in earnest even though she’d tried (as gently as she could) to dissuade Amber from going through with the marriage. They’d fought horribly, and she cringed to even think of it now. Even though they made up because it was inconceivable to either one of them to not be involved in the other’s wedding, their lifelong friendship hadn’t been quite the same since the fight. Amber passive aggressively guilt-tripped Stacy for her lack of support, leveraging it to hoist wedding chores and projects upon her until she wondered what exactly the McCormicks were paying their expensive wedding planner to do.
Stacy reached into her purse and felt around for the pack of cigarettes and the free matchbook that had come with it. She slipped around the balcony to an unlit corner of the house, carefully opening the packaging with her hands still hidden in the depths of her giant slouchy purse. The wind was brisk, so Stacy squatted down behind the protection of the thick glass wall to strike a match and attempt to light her first cigarette. It took two matches, but she managed and then puffed experimentally.
A loud cough forced its way out of her assaulted throat, and Stacy struggled for breath while making sure not to toss the burning cigarette into the dry brush on the sloping cliffside below. The sound of a sliding door opening didn’t help. Mr. McCormick stepped out onto the balcony, shut the door behind him, and strode over to Stacy. Crap, she thought.
She was still doubled over when he reached her, and she saw his shoes first. No doubt he’d be furious with her, and probably call her mom. Stacy finally caught her breath. She winced in anticipation of Mr. McCormick’s disappointed face and looked up. To Stacy’s surprise, he didn’t seem furious at all. In fact, one side of his mouth was quirked upward and he looked almost…amused. Stacy straightened herself up and began looking around wildly for a place to put out the cigarette. Her words came out in a rush as she searched.
“Mr. McCormick, I’m so sorry! I don’t know what I was thinking, I—”
He laughed, and Stacy was dumbfounded.
She tilted her head quizzically before she answered.
“Well? How was it?”
“I—I don’t know,” Stacy stammered, finally stabbing the burning cigarette into the soil of a potted cactus, “I didn’t get much more than a puff before I started coughing. Aren’t you angry?”
“You’re an adult now, and at least you had the decency not to fling that thing over into the brush.”
Stacy’s eyebrows shot up as she looked at him incredulously.
A flicker of something flashed across Mr. McCormick’s face.
He cut himself off, pulled his phone out of his pocket and checked the time.
“In fact, have you got another one?”
Stacy was dumbstruck again. Of all the things she’d expected when the door opened, this hadn’t been among them.
“Uh, sure,” she finally replied as she rummaged through her purse again. She withdrew the pack, pulled out a cigarette and proffered it to him along with the matches.
“Give me another one.”
Stacy complied and stared up at him curiously. His hair was a shade of silvery, salt and pepper gray, and his jawline could cut glass. Mr. McCormick had always been a “hot dad,” but something about him behaving so oddly, standing on the balcony at sunset with his sleeves rolled up made Stacy’s stomach fill up with butterflies. She watched in awe as he put both cigarettes between his lips and lit them together with one match cupped behind his hand. He took them from his mouth as he shook out the match and shoved it into the cactus plant alongside Stacy’s cigarette butt. Then he cocked his head and smiled, holding second cigarette out to her.
Stacy’s shorts suddenly felt too short, but she stepped closer to Mr. McCormick and took the cigarette from his hand, trying not to jump when their fingers brushed lightly. While she watched Mr. McCormick take a drag, Stacy crossed her arms and held the cigarette like the models she remembered from overly-scented fashion magazines when she was much younger. She hoped the affectation made her look glamorous and more mature.
“Go on,” he said, exhaling tendrils of smoke from his mouth, “try it. Just don’t suck on it too hard.”
Stacy gulped at the word “suck.” Inadvertently, her eyes dropped for a fraction of a second to the slight bulge at the crotch of his trousers before she obediently put the cigarette to her lips.
“Just breathe normally. Don’t suck it like a straw. Not yet, anyway.”
He looked at her expectantly as he took another drag. Stacy raised the cigarette to her lips and breathed in, feeling nervous as the smoke filled her mouth and throat. She took it away—still posing like a model—and exhaled slowly, pleased when her body wasn’t wracked by another coughing fit. Mr. McCormick began to clap softly, letting his cigarette dangle loosely from his lips as he spoke.
“There she is!”
Stacy beamed brightly. Pleasing Mr. McCormick made her feel warm and nervous, but happy. He was a good guy. And a handsome one at that. Stacy had always thought of him as a bit of a substitute father figure, but she wasn’t blind. Embarrassed, she tried not to ogle him too obviously as he leaned over the balcony and peered out at the sun, which was barely a sliver over the water now. Stacy copied his stance, and they stood there puffing silently until the sun sank below the horizon. Her body felt like it was on fire as she stood next to him, and the spot where their bare forearms kept almost touching was utterly unbearable. They finished their cigarettes as darkness fell and shoved the butts into the cactus plant. After a moment, Mr. McCormick turned to Stacy with a somber expression. He took her by the chin and tilted her face towards his. She wondered if he might kiss her, and then she realized that she desperately wanted him to.
Instead, he spoke as he loomed over her.
“I’m not going to tell your mother about this, but I can’t allow you to do this kind of thing in my house. Amber is very impressionable.”
Gone was the laid back smoker of moments before, and in his place was the stalwart and stern Mr. McCormick. Stacy was too shocked by the sudden change to respond.
“You’re going to bend over the railing.”
“Bend over the railing, Stacy.”
“Because you’ve got to be punished somehow. Mrs. McCormick doesn’t allow smoking anywhere near the house, and not only did you smoke but you made me smoke too. Bend over.”
Even as the absurdity of his accusation hit her, Stacy remembered her mother’s mortified rage the last time she’d received a disciplinary call from Mr. McCormick. Anything was better than one of her mother’s tantrums. She bent over.
Stacy had begun to suspect what was about to happen, and she could only brace herself for impact. Her body began to tremble even though she tried to steady herself, but she was shaking with anticipation rather than fear. Her heart pounded, and she silently begged him to touch her ass gently at least once before he spanked it.
As if he could hear her thoughts, Mr. McCormick placed his hand on her ass, rubbed it gently a few times from one side to the other, and then squeezed each buttock firmly, as if testing them. His fingertips dug the bare skin where her thighs met her bottom just below the hem of her shorts as he squeezed. Stacy’s breaths became shallow, and she had to bite her lip to keep from moaning at the sensation of Mr. McCormick’s fingers touching her in a place they definitely shouldn’t be. When he took his hand away, Stacy whimpered in spite of herself before Mr. McCormick’s hand came back, hard, spanking her so roughly that it stung through her shorts.
Stacy cried out as she soaked her panties.
“Okay, that’s it. Don’t make me do something like that again.”
“Just the one?” she asked, hoping her disappointment wasn’t too apparent.
“Just the one. Smoking isn’t that naughty; I just can’t have you making me do it. And promise me you won’t introduce it to Amber.”
“Uh, okay. I promise.”
The sound of an engine starting in front of the house snapped them both to attention. Mr. McCormick pulled out his phone and checked the time again.
“That must be Jason’s car. Judy’s going to be home soon. You should run and catch him if you don’t want to have to call your mother for a ride,” he said kindly.
“Oh gosh, I’ve got to go!”
“Go on then.”
His eyes were soft again, and being alone with him in the dark while her ass still stung in the place where he had struck it was almost too much to take. Stacy shoved her misgivings to the back of her mind and simpered at Mr. McCormick, flashing her best friend’s father what she hoped was a sultry, flirtatious smile.
Then she grabbed her bag and took off running to catch a ride home with Jason…
Read the Rest:
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