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Butcher's Block Special

Butcher's Block Special

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Janie had been way too high-strung lately. Job upheavals along with life stresses had made her snappy, jangled, and short-tempered.

I love Janie, but I’d had enough.

I found her in the kitchen after work, opening and slamming cabinets like a crazy woman. I managed to get ahold of one flying arm and hold her by the wrist.

She turned to me and snarled, “Let me go.”

“Calm down, lover.”

She tugged her arm away and said, “Don’t tell me to calm down. The exact best way to piss me off is to tell me to calm down.”

Not only had her stress been high, but our sex life had hit a low. I couldn’t seem to get her to see that when you are stressed, anxious, and tired, fucking could be a lovely distraction and a feel-good event.

“Then how about you take a breath, Janie?”

She tried, but it was short and shallow instead of deep and long.

“Just leave me be. I’m trying to make dinner. I’m trying to make dinner for you.”

“Fuck dinner,” I said.

She froze, blinking at me. Miss I’m-pissed-off didn’t know what to do with that, now did she?

“What?”

“I said, fuck dinner. And how about I fuck you while I’m at it?” I was imagining the night ahead. It had been a while since we played, and I thought we were long overdue.

“I don’t have time — ”

I grabbed her wrist again, wrapping my fingers around, making sure to press against her pounding pulse. She was pissed and her heartbeat was like a jackhammer.

“I think you do.” I squeezed. “I think you need to make time.”

That penetrated the fog of anger, and I saw her pupils dilate slightly. She licked her lipstick-painted lips and sighed. The pulse at the base of her throat banged so hard I could see it.

“Oh — ”

“Yes, oh. You need to stop yelling at me, Janie. You need to see me as a friend, not a foe.”

“I do!” she yelled. “I’m just — ” She wriggled but I held fast to her wrist. “Rabid!” She finished, laughing. But it was a frustrated, angry laugh.

I moved her quickly before she could react and pushed her back so she leaned over the butcher’s block slightly. I slid my hand up beneath her long dress and smacked her on the ass. Hard.

She barked with a mix of laughter and rage. “Stop!”

I did it again, and then again. I spanked her ass until I felt some of the tension go out of her.

I pulled her skirt down and then her tights. She’d already kicked her heels off. I pulled her sweater up and over her head and undid her bra. It fell to the butcher’s block and I brushed it off. Her long blonde hair hung in her face and she was breathing hard. Her juicy ass was marked with my red handprints. I bent and bit her right on the reddest part. She jumped and hissed, but something in her had submitted.

“Put your belly on the wood,” I said. Even as I said it, I pressed her in the small of the back with my hand so that she obeyed. She leaned over the unstained wood as instructed. It stood in the center of our kitchen as a makeshift island. I had access to Janie from all sides, which pleased me.

“Let your arms hang down,” I said.

She did. Her toned arms hung down on either side. I rummaged in the kitchen drawer until I found twine. I squatted while she watched, squirming slightly, and tied the twine tightly around her left wrist. I fed the twine directly below the top so that should she try to raise her arms, the twine would catch on the legs. She wouldn’t get free until I let her free. I tied her right wrist snugly and tested my work. Now her arms were tethered to one another with enough play that she wouldn’t be miserable — just miserable enough.

I got behind her, crowding her a bit. I slid my finger very slowly from the small of her back past the tip of her coccyx and down her ass crack. I paused on the tight star of her asshole and felt her bristling. Then I traveled down to her slick pussy. Without preamble, I pushed two fingers into her cunt from behind.

“I can’t help notice that you’re calmer and very, very wet, my love.”

She nodded but didn’t say a word. She was just sprawled there, bound with kitchen twine, while I touched her.

I fucked her with my fingers — slowly at first, then rougher, relishing the way her hot pussy gripped my thrusting fingers. I withdrew from her suddenly and caught her off-guard. She tossed against the wood top, her arms going wide — but only as far as my makeshift tethers would allow. She grunted and gasped, pushing her hips forward, trying to get more contact — firmer contact — with my fingers.

I stopped touching her altogether.

“Please — ” she finally gasped.

“Please what?”

“Please let me come.” She bucked again and this time truly strained against her bonds. The twine was thin but strong, and it got her nowhere.

I walked around to face her and smiled down at her.

“Would you like to tell me something first?”

“I want it?”

I shook my head.

“I’m horny?”

I shook it again.

“I need you to fuck me, Sir?”

“Good try.”

Then she froze, eyes narrowing.

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