Consequence and Compromise


I walk into our bedroom five minutes past my bedtime, eyes on the floor, a sheepish expression on my face. My girlfriend ignores me, her nose buried in a book with little black glasses on. What little I can see of her face is framed by bangs that have fallen out of loosely tied back shoulder length hair. Below that, she wears a black sleeveless slip that shows off her creamy skin along her shoulders and deep cut neckline. Her legs would similarly be on display if it weren’t for the fine down comforter pulled up to her waist. She sits propped on a bed of pillows that support her as she leans back against the wall, posture prim enough to shame a Victorian governess.

I stand just inside the door, patiently waiting for her to say something, but icy silence is all I get. Swallowing hard, I take a few shambling steps toward the bed.

“I don’t know where you think you’re going,” she says without looking up. Her voice is tightly controlled, but there’s an edge to it I’m all too familiar with. “I know for a fact you haven’t brushed your teeth or washed your face yet. Now, get to it.”

“Yes Ma’am,” I squeak, scurrying to the bathroom on the far side of the room.

It takes another five minutes before I walk back out, clean enough to pass even one of her rigorous inspections. Sure, I could have gone a little faster, but really it’s just easier to take my time and get it right the first time so she doesn’t have to go back in with me to “supervise”.

Flipping off the light behind me, once more I shuffle over to the bed. As I get close, she points to the ground beside her next to the bed, eyes never straying from her book. I quickly slide around the bed and kneel by her side, hands fidgeting nervously at my sides. Even before I take my position, she seems to forget I exist, her attention once again focused solely on her reading. For ten minutes she leaves me to sweat, hands wringing nervously as I try hard to sit still until she finally marks her place and sets her book aside.

She swings her legs out from the bed, moving from beneath the comforter as she does so and revealing an incredible amount of baby soft skin all the way up to the top of her thighs. The sight tightens my throat, and pajama bottoms, considerably, but it’s the hard look in her eye that suddenly gives me cottonmouth.

“Care to explain why you were late getting to bed, young man?” She’s only a couple of years older than me, but whenever she uses that tone of voice the gap seems to magically widen until I feel like a naughty little boy getting caught with his hand in the cookie jar, and that I had better have a good reason for it being there. A sudden phantom tingling in my backside mirrors a rising panic that she might “crack down” on me and my bad behavior tonight.

I look down at the floor between my knees, hands pawing nervously bahis firmaları at my pajama pants as I try to phrase my statement to be less damning than it sounds in my head.

“Well, we were almost done, the other team was up by ten rounds, but out of nowhere we mounted this incredible comeback, then one thing led to another and we ended up in double overtime…” I glance up to gauge her reaction and see one neatly manicured brow raised ever so slightly and lips tight with annoyance. “Sorry, I didn’t even realize how late it was until it was over with.” True or not, it’s a lame excuse and I know it.

She purses her lips, a deep, sighing breath escaping as she eyes me with a cold stare.

“How many times have I told you to pay attention to how much time you spend on that thing?” The tone of her voice lets me know to be on my best behavior, I can tell she isn’t in the mood for games.

“Too many times, Ma’am,” I say quickly, “You’re right, I need to do a better job of managing my time. I’ll try harder, I promise.”

“Uh huh,” she says, not looking remotely convinced. “You certainly know what to say, now if only you could figure out what to do, we’d have far fewer problems.” I start to get that sinking feeling in my tummy. She leans forward, the buttery skin of her bust highlighted by the movement. Taking a firm grip on my chin, she stars me hard in the eyes as she continues. “If it happens again, I’ll be the one who decides when you’ve played enough. Are we clear?” The stern set of her features lets me know just how serious she is.

“Yes Ma’am,” I answer quietly, trying hard to make up some brownie points.

She keeps me locked in her gaze for another few seconds, the weight of her scrutiny making me want to fidget. I fight back the urge and keep my eyes cast demurely downward.

“Good,” she says, releasing my chin. “Now, one other thing,” she raises an eyebrow at me again, but this time I can make out the barest hint of a smirk on the corner of her lips, “Did you really forget to dry your face off before you came to bed?”

Reaching up in surprise, I feel my face, moisture still beaded up around my mouth and chin.

“Er, sorry. I was trying to go fast…” I trail off lamely, “I’ll go take care of it.” I start to stand and turn toward the bathroom when her grip on my wrist stops me. I look back at her uncertainly.

“Who gave you permission to stand up?” I drop back to my knees in a blink.

“I’m sorry, Ma’am,” I say, bowing my head, “I misunderstood.”

“Mmhmm,” she says in agreement, still holding my arm. Pulling lightly, she draws me closer to her, her legs parting as she leads me between them, the hem of her slip riding seductively up her thighs the farther her legs part. I try hard not to stare, but I’m only human.

“I think,” she starts slowly, lifting part kaçak iddaa of her thin negligee to dab lightly at the moisture on my face, revealing lacy crimson panties as she does so, “Most of your misunderstandings come from a lack listening. What do you think?” She finishes patting my face dry and leans back, fixing me with an expectant look.

I swallow hard. This is one of those things that can really get me in trouble if I’m not careful.

“I always listen, Ma’am. Sometimes I just slip up, but I have been trying.” I hope it strikes the right balance of honest and earnest.

She runs firm but gentle fingers over my cheek before combing her fingers through my hair. “So what you’re saying is that I need to be stricter enforcing the rules?” Another trap, if I’ve ever heard one.

“If you want to, Ma’am. It’s your decision.” I keep my tone carefully neutral, trying not to give her any more ammo.

“Good answer,” she says, the ghost of a smile on her face. Glancing at the clock, she tsks. “Twenty minutes late for bed. You know what that means, don’t you?”

I lick my lips nervously, “A minute over your knee for every minute past my bedtime.”

Her smile is subtle but wicked, “That’s right. I think maybe I’ll use that new bathbrush we bought the other day, too.”

My bottom clenches involuntarily and I have to keep my hands from reaching back to cover up protectively. She’d only used it on me for a few swats here and there so far, but that thing stung like fire. A good dose of it was going to leave my poor backside a single solid bruise. Despite that, I manage to hold my tongue, the begging for leniency I’d like to do replaced with an obedient, “Yes, Ma’am.”

She smiles then, warm and encouraging as she tussles my hair, “What a good boy. No arguments this time?”

I shake my head, “No, Ma’am, I deserve it.”

She leans back, raising a brow as she studies me. The seconds drag on, slow and uncomfortable under her scrutiny. I start to fidget nervously.

“What?” I finally ask, breaking the tension, unable to let the silence last any longer.

“I’m just trying to figure out who you are and what you’ve done with the willful little brat I usually have to deal with.”

I shrug self consciously, “I’m not that difficult.” She just keeps staring. “Most of the time…” I add sheepishly. “I’m trying to do better, at least. It’s a work in progress, but I do want to be a good boy for you.”

She smiles and runs a hand down the back of my neck, her strong fingers kneading at the ever-present tension hiding there, “I know you do, sweety. And you’re much better now than when we first started, but we’ve still got a long ways to go.”

I nod meekly, “Yes, Ma’am.”

“Now,” she says with a sigh, sliding back on the bed, “I’m already in bed, and waving that heavy bathbrush around kaçak bahis for twenty minutes sounds like sweaty work, so we can at least deal with that part tomorrow, but,” she raises her hips, her hands sliding her shift up her legs until her lacy red panties come back into view, “If you think you can ‘talk’ some leniency into me, you’ve got 45 minutes until lights out.”

She runs a finger from just beneath her breasts down to the waistband of her panties, her fingertips dipping between her legs as she stares me down, eyes like smokey gems in the soft light.

A little thrill of anticipation runs through me as I slowly crawl from my knees up onto the bed, my hands running over her smooth legs as my lips begin their caress on the tops of her feet, kissing tender flesh as I work my way upwards. Her legs part as I move between her thighs, naturally spreading wider to accommodate me as I move closer to my goal.

Even through her panties, the scent of her is intoxicating. My mouth finally comes to rest over her hot sex, my lips dancing over the insides of her thighs, teasing as my fingers slip up and peel away the sheer garment, revealing her moist flower to me. I blow a stream of cool air over the surface of her skin, raising goosebumps and making her shiver.

“Such a tease,” she says, voice hitching and turning into a throaty moan as my tongue flicks lightly over her entrance before running up to play with her clit.

I decide not to say anything about the gross hypocrisy of the statement, mostly because my tongue is busy.

Her fingers clench into tight fistfuls of blanket as I continue to work my tongue over her wet sex, delving deep between her hot lips before moving up to suck and flick lightly on her most sensitive spot. Her legs start to wobble and close slightly, so I move one hand to keep them spread wide as my other slips beneath me, sliding up until I can feel the heat radiating off of her pussy. Running my fingers from the bottom up, they become coated in her juices, making it easy to slide a pair of fingers deep inside of her hot hole as my tongue attacks her clit with renewed energy.

Her breath comes in heavy pants as she lets go of the blankets with one hand and grabs me by the back of the head, her fingers laced deep in my hair as she pulls me down into her harder. I happily oblige, my tongue flicking hard over her clit as my fingers curl upwards deep inside of her, little circles pressing firmly on her g-spot as a deep groan escapes her lips, the muscles in her legs clenching hard and squeezing me tight on either side. I can feel her passage spasm on my fingers, the convulsions grabbing them in a hot vise as she crashes through her first orgasm.

I slow my fingers for a moment, my tongue backing off to give her a second to breathe before I dive back in, eliciting a groan as I suck lightly on her orgasm-sensitive clit. Her hips thrust up to meet my mouth, already eager for her next treat.

Taking a quick peek over at the clock, I can’t help but smile on the inside. Three minutes down, 42 to go.

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