Devil Man...
by sarAdora
~~~~~~~

I like this time of night... between the quiet hours and whatever is left of the sanity with which God graced me. I like this time... the midnight blackness lingers and the dawn a long time coming. I waver here... on the edge... my mind filled with sin and glory... my body aching for release.

On this small piece of the planet, the adult world sleeps. I imagine them snug in their beds... In REM sleep, they are moved by warm winds through rough and choppy seas to safe harbor. I picture them embraced by sweet dreams or perhaps, for those such as I... and others with cravings... are awake and consumed by the hell fires our souls have created... the consequence of cavorting with the devil... the spanking devil.

Last night was perfect... The memories linger... the sting fading, my body needs more.

Come to me, devil man. Come to me. Spank me. Love me. Make me whole.

I sip my wine. I've made my choice. The man at the bar is mine.

It was an easy choice. I had a short list. I want the man drinking Scotch. Why did I choose him?

I really don't think it's any of your business as to how I arrived at my decision, but since you've chosen to listen, here's my logic or lack thereof:

Sweet baby-faced neophyte batting his eyes at me from the other end of the bar... much too easy... too vulnerable... too desperate to please. I don't want an easy conquest that will pink my ass and then burst into tears because he thinks he's hurt me. I need a man's hands... a man between my thighs... not a cabin boy. Oh sure, his sweet full lips would do for the lovely afters... it would be okay. I don't want "okay." I want mind-boggling sex! I want nirvana! I want it hard and heavy and demanding and Sweet Jesus! I'm dripping just thinking about it.

The Dom-type on the far side of the room has possibilities... dark good looks... arresting smile. I imagine what that smile would look like facing me... my thighs wrapped around his hips. He looks like he's had a submissive or two over his lap... wiggling... giggling... panting... Yes, a definite possibility.

Nice butt, too. Of course, mine is sweeter... rounder... silky... beckoning him... ready for him... I could make him beg for it... Would he beg to spank me? Of course, he would... never met a man - Dom or otherwise... who didn't want what I have. I'll save him for another time... maybe.

The bartender? Another distinct possibility but not tonight. He's got a bit of an attitude problem. I like that in a conquest. The ones who are sure of themselves... cocky... confident... I like the way they walk... tight ass... muscled thighs... strong stride. I like watching them strut. I like the hungry glimmer in their eyes when they think about spanking me.

And I like watching them cave... gasping for breath... gulping air when they come inside me. But can he spank? Can he heat my butt so it glows, so it stings so good... so sweet... so right? Can he? There's a look about him... nice mouth... full lips... mmmm... there's a definite look about him... He's a maybe... I'll save him for a dark and rainy night.

The tall man at the table behind me... I like tall in a man. I really like that. I like to see a tall man sprawled... naked from head to toe on the length of a bed... arms extended... hands still stinging my reddened cheeks... I torture him with my body... face down on top of him... my thighs at his shoulders... my sex at his mouth... wet from his tongue... my breasts teasing his belly as my lips surround his engorged flesh... Oh God! I know that feeling. Once you've felt it, you gotta' have it... again and again... spank me harder... harder... please God! Harder! It's good... so good... so... good.

My imagination runs riot. I picture him with my hands wrapped around his leg... my butt arching up on his thighs meeting his hand as he spanks me... left... right... center... up... down... yes! Yes! Oh yes-s-s, his hands are doing it... doing it so good... so fine... so very fine. His arm will swing down, his abs will tense; his erection will bulge beneath my belly. I'll glow... breath hissing... he'll flip me over, his face wet... perspiration dripping. His tongue will be between his teeth... hips pushing... bucking... seeking release. And... when he passes GO and collects his two-hundred bucks, his legs will buckle... slipping... down between my thighs... his cock still trembling from coming. His roar of release will fade... I like it when they roar for me. I'll leave him with memories... sated... my butt is tingling with anticipation. Spank me, I mouth to him in my mind. I'll have him next time.

I sip my wine and drain the glass and think about the man drinking Scotch. He's looking in the mirror behind the bar... watching me... watch him.

This calls for more wine.

He will not be an easy conquest. He's a woman's man... muscles... power... strength... commanding... the sheer maleness of the man draws me to him and consumes me... I'm weak just thinking about him and how he will spank me... how he will love me.

I want him. I want his power. I want his strength. I want his manhood inside me. I want to taste him. He's not créme brúlee. He's not sweet and salty salsa. He's sharp... tangy... spicy... tart... bitter... I know he is. His taste is like a bitter root that feels good on the tip of my tongue... the kind I want to savor and... then savor some more... and swallow... and feel it trickle down my throat... filling me.

The first time I saw him, he was at the neighborhood gym, working those muscles... doing reps, pressing heavy metal... then squats... all wet and sweaty and God-like... I knew then why men follow their leaders into battle. His commanding presence sucked me in... My inner thighs were slick... sopping wet at first glance... held captive as I watched those muscles flex, contract and relax. The size of his biceps... Mother of God! The muscles of his thighs! I put a fist to my mouth unsure if it had opened without my knowledge.

Yes, I am yours! Take me across your knees... corrupt me... corrupt God... Make me hot! Please! Warm my butt to boiling. I want your heavy hands on me... heating my cheeks, hard... heavy hands... Make me wet... wetter... make me lose my breath as you spank... stroke... spank... touch... probe... caress... spank... take me. I want you. I want you bad... so bad. I want to squeeze you as you thrust in and out... and slam into my cervical wall... startle me with shock-wave after shock-wave... please... feeling good... so good... this onset of madness... and release...

Whatever he wants... anything... my mouth, my lips, my tongue, my hands, my sex, my ass. They are his. His to command. When our breathing finally settles, we'll spend years, nay! We'll spend an entire lifetime in our remaining minutes together... my butt on fire... a release to savor... so good... this sting... this pleasure... this spanking devil.

We'll feel the last of the heat and violence of our loving... the morte petite will have passed but the heat will be so intense, it will linger. I can smell our sex... sweet... musky... satisfying. It's heavy in the air - it fills my nostrils and I suck it into my lungs - a small piece of him and me... a momentary souvenir.

Out of the corner of my eye, I'll see the last remaining tiny angels sitting on my shoulders... the ones who will come to watch the spanking... to observe... to take notes... to judge... to enjoy our carnal time. They'll be rubbing their butts... blushing... fanning themselves as they seek relief from our heat and the smell of our sex... and then, slowly... very slowly, they will fade... before I descend into the fires below.

Come to me, devil man. Come to me. Spank me. Love me. Make me whole.

~ Fini ~

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