I tapped the crop against my boot lightly – tap, tap, tap – as I contemplated what to do next to his ass. Tap, tap, tap. I stared out the window stroking my fingers over his cheeks, his balls, pressing a slender finger gently and just barely in and out – in and out of his tight asshole. The movement soothed me and the muffled sounds of the moans he was trying not to make were relaxing.
I wanted a sip of my Old Fashioned but I only had two hands. Which to give up? I decided on the crop, delivering two more stinging slaps to his already red cheeks. I might have been inclined to feel sorry for him as his body bucked, but in truth we both loved this.