The Right Treatment (15 page)

“Patience,” he said huskily, pulling her to the side of her bed. He sat on the edge and pulled her across his lap. He left her white lace panties in situ. They looked too good adorning her beautiful round globes to remove them so soon. He brought his hand down with a light spank on her left cheek then her right. With each smack, Matt’s inhibitions lessened and once he had a steady rhythm, he was right where he wanted to be. The sound of the spanks and the red peeping through the lace had a transformational effect on both. She no longer prickly and overassertive, he no longer insecure. Her body melted into him, soaking up the sensations, her bottom rising slightly to meet each new blow. Small, pleasurable moans escaped her lips as the heat began to build. He pulled down her panties so he could fully appreciate the glow on her skin and the glisten in her sex. He soothed her skin with his hand, first rubbing the shapely orbs, then allowing his finger to trail between her legs. He noticed that her bottom felt less toned than it used to as he spanked.

“I can see you haven’t been keeping up with your workouts, have you?” he admonished, “Not as much as I did before,” Aoife admitted, her voice small and breathy. His eyes scanned her room. There was a chair against one of the walls. Matt rose and pulled her toward it.

“Put your hands on the seat,” he told her. He left her like that and sat on the bed admiring the view. Her feminine folds were positioned perfectly for him to fully appreciate them. They were so creamy. His cock ached to get in there, but he knew she needed more, she trembled for his touch.

“You know you need to keep it up, the endorphins make you feel good. And the exercise keeps your body working properly,” he lectured. “The minute I was gone, you let it slide.” His lecture just seemed to arouse her more. God, he had missed this, the way she responded to his discipline. It was clear she had missed it too. He took her hairbrush from the dressing table and slapped it down on her behind six times. She yelped, but held still.

“I need more,” Aoife said, to his surprise, when he stopped. He began spanking again. He placed another dozen hard swats on her sit spots, then stopped. Still her hips rocked, begging for more. She hadn’t had the release she needed so he kept spanking until the tears came. Although she was crying, Aoife wasn’t begging for him to stop. But he could see she had enough, her tears the sign of relief. He took her in his arms.

“Hey, it’s okay. I’ve got you. So, now are you going to tell me why you needed that so much?”

“I keep making such a mess of things. I had two incredible friends, Fiona and you, and I messed up both. Even tonight, I didn’t want to go to the party, because I didn’t want to face you. Fiona had to drag me there,” Aoife said between sobs. He fished a tissue out of the box on her bedside locker and wiped her eyes and nose.

“Stop that. Now! Fiona did drag you there, so I presume things are okay between the two of you again, right?”

Aoife nodded her agreement. He continued, “And a lot of what you said about me, I think was justified, even if I didn’t see it at the time. I needed the wake-up call. Okay?” Aoife looked doubtful and opened her mouth, but he didn’t give her a chance to reply. He could see from her face she wanted to argue her guilt, so he smothered her words with his mouth. Her lips were soft and salty from her tears but she responded urgently, accepting his tongue greedily. He lay her back on the bed, climbing atop her. Kissing her. Tasting her. Owning her.

She parted her legs to accept him in between. Her sex glistened with arousal. Her scent filled his head, coaxing him.

“You’re not going to believe this, but I have no condoms, I wasn’t expecting this. Not tonight.”

“It’s okay, I’m still using the coil and…” She stopped talking, blushing at whatever was going on in her head.

“And what?”

“Well, um, you’re the only person I’ve been with since I had all those tests. So it should be okay,” Aoife admitted, flustered and blushing. It was as good as a confession; he had gotten under her skin. She hadn’t wanted anyone since. That made him feel amazing! He held her by the hips as his cock found its way to her moist swollen labia and she pushed back, swallowing him up. Her pussy sucked him in deep. It felt like home, like he was meant to be there. He thrust slowly at first, simply savouring the delights that he had yearned for so long. Aoife started rocking back and forth, demanding more.

“Slow down, little lady,” he warned. When she ignored his command he repeated it, more sharply and she obeyed temporarily. When she started upping the ante again, Matt didn’t waste times with warnings. He moistened his forefinger in his mouth and pressed it against her bottom hole, breaching the tight ring very slightly. Aoife gasped in protest but her body screamed out for more as her pussy flooded. He pushed farther and her body clenched around him; his finger and cock were squeezed as her whole pelvic region exploded in orgasm.

“Now tell me you don’t like discipline,” Matt growled triumphantly. He removed his finger and grabbed onto her hips again, fucking hard and deep. She continued to pulsate around his shaft and he knew his own orgasm was imminent. As Aoife shuddered and tightened around him again, his seed forced its way deep into her channel, claiming her for his own.

Chapter Twelve

Aoife and Matt had had one wonderful week before he had to leave for Tunisia. Then six weeks of absence, with only sporadic emails between them as he couldn’t always get access to the Internet. With every news report of the escalating tensions in Libya and Algeria, Aoife had been sickened. Tunisia was stuck right between the two. The six weeks had seemed like forever, and whenever there was a long delay between emails, she dreaded turning on the TV. She killed her time with work and training for a mini-marathon. Pounding along the track was the surest way to shut off her thoughts.

As the six weeks came to a close, Aoife was filled with a different fear. What if he didn’t want her anymore? Or what if she couldn’t settle into a real relationship with someone—what if her self-destruct button kicked in and she pushed him away? This was a totally new fear to Aoife; she had never wanted someone to mean more than a fling and it was scary.

Standing in arrivals in Gatwick Airport for what seemed like an eternity, Aoife’s fear began to run amok. Her instinct was to take flight. She rooted herself to the spot and tried to think of anything to keep still. His flight had landed an hour earlier and there was still no sign of Matt. She knew it, he was having second thoughts. What if he had managed to get past without her noticing him and he had already gone? She managed to hold on for another fifteen minutes, but then doubt got the better of her. She turned to leave, holding back her tears until she at least got into a taxi.

She had just reached the top of the taxi queue when her phone rang.

“I was held up by customs. Sorry I couldn’t call you sooner. They wouldn’t let me make a call,” Matt said and the tears that had been threatening finally flowed, but from relief. She legged it back into the airport. He was easy to spot, in spite of his new beard and moustache and longer hair. His skin was almost black, evidence that most of his clinics had indeed been held outdoors like he had told her. He dropped his bag and held his arms open, waiting to envelop her. He felt so damn good.

“I thought you’d run out on me,” Aoife admitted.

“Never… anyway, it would be a waste of time, I’ve seen how fast you can run,” Matt answered. “Christ, I missed you. I wanted to come home as soon as I got there.”

The cab ride was a happier affair after that; they were like a couple of lovesick teenagers, touching and kissing one another. His facial hair tickled her nose.

“That beard has got to go,” she giggled.

“It will. It was easier to have it out there with the water shortages.” It seemed forever before they made it to Matt’s apartment, hunger for more making Aoife needy.

Matt threw his bags down inside the door and pushed Aoife up against the wall, tugging on her hair, plunging her mouth with his tongue.

“Hey, if I dumped my things like that you’d spank me,” Aoife protested when he came up for air.

“You and your wanton ways made me do it, so I am still going to spank you,” he growled. Aoife made a dash for it, giggling, but he trapped her in a corner easily and dragged her, protesting half-heartedly, to the bedroom. He dragged her across his lap.

“I wouldn’t just run out on you,” he chastised. “Why would I do that? I’ve loved you for years.”

To her amazement, his announcement didn’t scare her. It made her feel warm in a way she had never felt before. When his hand fell down on her fully clothed behind, it was more welcome than any kiss. Even as he kept it up, pulling her jeans and panties down, the pain was pleasure. This was what they were. She realised it was Matt’s way of owning her, of keeping her safe. She gave in to the sting and the heat as he upped the spanking. The glow rushed through her whole nether regions, even as she wanted to escape the pain.

“If I have to spank you ‘til kingdom come to make you see how much you mean to me, I will,” he threatened before landing another volley on her behind.

“No, I believe you. I’m sorry I doubted you. I was scared,” Aoife managed to blurt out between spanks and tears. He guided her up to a sitting position.

“You don’t have a monopoly on fear. I’m scared I’ll screw it up too,” he admitted. “We’ve wasted so many years already.”

“They weren’t a waste, we both had to grow up and wait for the time to be right,” Aoife said, kissing him.

“Is the time right now?”

“I think it is, Matt.” She didn’t get to add anything else, his mouth was on hers and he had pushed her back on the bed. He pulled her half-mast jeans and panties off altogether and undid his own trousers, claiming her in a frenzy, both still half clothed. Urgency was the order of the day, both desperate in their need to possess and be possessed by the other. Frenzied though it was, it was honest and pure, motivated by love and yearning rather than by pure lust. But it wasn’t enough to satisfy either of their longings and before she knew it, Matt was swelling again. This time she removed both his shirt and her top and bra. She wanted to feel skin on skin. He looked amazing, tanned and healthy although she was relieved to see enough white spots to know he had been keeping some parts for her eyes only.

“Someone’s been feeling neglected,” Aoife teased as his cock grew back to life in her hand. She idly stroked it up and down, watching as it became more and more engorged. When he groaned, she gripped it firmly, massaging it. Matt reached for her clit.

“My turn,” she protested, slapping his hand away. She moved down in the bed and took him in her mouth. She could taste both him and her, their joint essence so different to his alone. The oneness of it, of them as a new entity, turned her on. She took him in as deep as she could, wanting all of him, fucking him with her mouth.

“Stop, I don’t want to come,” he gasped as she trailed back up his member, scratching the shaft lightly with her teeth. She ignored his protests; he might not want to come, but she wanted to make him lose control. She sucked and thrust harder and faster until she felt a fizzing in his cock. She knew he was swollen to eruption point so she moved faster and prepared to accept his seed in her mouth. He tensed beneath her, and once more tried to pull her head away. But she just thrust harder and he spurted his semen with a fierce intensity deep into her throat. She swallowed and grinned triumphantly as he slumped with the aftermath of pleasure.

“You do realise you’re going to pay for that later?”

“I’m sure I will. But not until after you shave that damn beard.”

Most of the time, Aoife had to admit it was totally amazing to have someone to care for her. Especially someone who knew her, warts and all. Aoife never had to pretend with Matt. Okay, he was a lot different from the quiet, almost geeky boy she had grown up with, but even that shared history made it easier. The new more assertive Matt was way sexier, while still the protective, soppy, boy next door put in an appearance once in a while when she needed it. She liked the peeks at his old self, especially because she knew that not many would ever see it. It came out in the little things, like when she was reading when she was tired, and she struggled with word recognition if she came across an unfamiliar word. He always seemed to notice it and help her out, not condescendingly or impatiently, but with easiness of familiarity. And he knew when she had been talking to her parents, she never had to tell him, but somehow he always ended up wordlessly massaging away the tension from her shoulders. Or if she was really wound up, he knew she needed a good hard spanking and fuck to push them out of her mind, to make her focus on the better things. There were even times when she wondered if he had her damn phone bugged because as soon as he saw her he’d see it.

She’d asked him about it.

“I know because you look like you used to look sometimes. You shrink your head into your shoulders. I always knew that look meant you were in trouble at home,” he’d told her. It touched her that he remembered. She’d always wondered why he’d seemed so kind to her on those days back then too; now she knew. He could read her like a book, and for the most part that was good.

But it wasn’t always so good. And definitely not when she just wanted to hide from the world. One particular night, they had planned to go out for dinner, then she was supposed to go back to his place. She had been looking forward to it, as usual. They didn’t often eat out mid-week, but Aoife had been awarded a certificate based on the study she had done at Matt’s and she had aced the exams and they were planning to celebrate. But then, one of the teachers from her school had really upset her. A pupil of his was being difficult and the principal had asked Aoife to see the child. The parents had made complaints of bullying by his classmates, and being picked on by his teacher, citing that as his reluctance to attend school. His teacher, Jonathon Oxley, was less than happy, taking it as a criticism of his teaching ability.