Every time Harry scolded Meg she felt like a little kid again. Back in the living room as her father reprimanded her for something she had done. The similarities were uncanny, Meg went for a younger version of the man that she shamefully admitted to Harry was the first fantasy she could remember. Though little more than a little girl’s crush she retold how she had “borrowed” her mother make-up and dressed up to get the handsome man’s attention. There in the hall way with her princess crown on, a bright red boa, and her favorite blue Cinderella dress she waited till he got home from his day at the garage. Leaning back on the wall as he walked in the house, she recited the words her mother often used when her father greeted her in the kitchen. “Hey big man, how was your day.” There was a look of surprise and then adoration for his daughter as he immediately called for his wife to come see. A five year old’s version of getting a guy attention ended with some laughter and a good face scrubbing. There was also a talking to about how one day she would fine her own man to dress up for but daddy belonged to mommy.
The first time she saw Harry he was working on his ‘70 Challenger. The gasoline and grease smell were an instant aphrodisiac, when Harry stood up with his wild brown hair and the black smudge across his forehead Meg was smitten. One look into those deep blue eyes and she was lost, he made her feel weak in the knees though she had no idea how he could do this so easy. Ten years her senior and a simple trade school education, he was a far cry for the college guys Meg normally dated. After a couple dates he suggested she spend the night, she agreed and a few days later they were moved in together. It was a torrid whirlwind of excitement for Meg as she quickly learned that Harry was a very complex and intriguing man. His poems would set her soul on fire and make her need to be ravaged by him. As they set by the fireplace one night harry seemed a little nervous as he opened a book Meg had never scene.
“I want to share something with you.” he stumbled over his words for a second.
Mag was intrigued as he had always seemed so self-assured.
“Please do. I always love your writing.” She beamed inside as he was going to share something extremely personal with her.
The poem was only a page long but it held imagery that shook Meg. A man seducing and overpowering the woman of his desires. There was a deep silence after the reading as Meg felt a stirring of something deeper she had never known while trying desperately to ignore the obvious arousal in Harry.
“So, what did you think?”
Meg fumbled for a minute, his eyes piercing into her as if he was looking into her soul. She turned away feeling herself drift into the little girl being questioned. Harry put his hand under her chin and turned her back toward him.
“Well Meg? What did you think of it?” his tone much firmer now.
Meg shuddered as her sudden flash of arousal confused her as it took over.
“It was good.” She stammered
“Good? You can do better than that.” He scolded
“I liked it?” Meg’s reply sounded more like a question as Harry studied her
“You are being coy. You never have a lack of words. Now you will have to be punished.” He said in a stern voice
The words stunned Meg, this was something new to their relationship. He didn’t warn her as he pushed her over his lap. Suddenly he pulled her sweat pants own exposing her naked butt. His strong bare hand issues six firm smacks, alternating sides as Meg felt the flush of shame, arousal and a need grow inside her. A sudden burst of emotions as Meg felt the tears well up then she started crying. She tried to never cry, but this was something different, like a surge. Harry let her tears flow as his hand went back and forth side to side. Hard enough to be felt, but not meant to be painful. Tears flowed, sobbing and blubbering as she turned into a ragdoll on his lap. His position shifted a little as he continued to swat her pink bum, his free hand now toying and teasing the folds of her pussy. She didn’t realize she had become wet till his finger slipped easily into her. The flood that crashed over her was enormous as she screamed in the release flowing through her body like a tidal wave. His rhythm slowed till his hand just lay firm on her. Her sniffs and ragged breaths as her mind tried to process what had happened were silenced as Harry stood her up and pulled her sweat pants up. His soft kiss on her forehead as his arms wrapped around her gave her the safe place to melt into.
“So what did you think of my poem?” he asked with a soft kindness now.
“It was provocative and alluring, it made me feel things I am trying to process through.” She said half muffled with her head buried in his chest.
The lingering smell of gasoline and grease from his day at the shop radiated off him as she felt herself lost and yet found. The hand on her backside had fired off a twist of emotions and desires. Wicked, unspoken, taboo in the deepest places of her heart and soul. It could take her days or weeks to process through them, Harry was a man of action though and right now Meg defiantly needed action as she ran her nails down his chest. She looked up into his eyes.