Usquebaugh Part Two — Olivia London

Did you miss Part One of this wonderfully sexy tale? Read Usquebaugh Part One.

And that’s how I was initiated into the wonderful world of spankings. Cora had a no-nonsense two bedroom apartment in the Mission District a block away from a butch bar where more than a few pool cues have snapped in a lovers’ quarrel.

Her pad was sparsely furnished with plants crying out to be deadheaded, bare walls and leather ski lodge furniture.

“Do much entertaining?” my snarky side wanted to know.

“The place came furnished but I’ll admit it could use another woman’s touch.” She touched my face then, caressing my cheek, pressing her thumbs to my earlobes before letting her hands glide down my neck and shoulders. I was awash with a giddy feeling. I suddenly knew I wanted her all over me.

I kissed her full and passionately on the mouth and she kissed me back, intently running her hands down my spine before cupping and squeezing my bottom.

We undressed quickly letting our clothes mingle together in a heap on the floor. Cora cupped the crotch of my panties and said, “These need to come off, too.” But before the fabric could be removed she tantalized my pussy by pressing the cotton panel into my beckoning moisture, dipped her hand beneath the elastic waistband twisting the material in her hand like a bit of sandwich wrap before releasing it and rubbing the outside of the panel again.

I pushed my underwear down―I couldn’t take any more teasing! When I tried to shove one of her digits into my cunt, she said, “Oh, no, pretty lady. Not so fast. Remember you’ve got a little spanking coming.”

I groaned but figured I’d humor her until I could get to her pussy.

Cora placed her oxford shirt on the couch so her bum wouldn’t create a distracting squeaky noise. Then she had me cantilever my torso over her muscle toned thighs.

Before I felt a thing, my woman leaned close to my ear and said, “Our safe word will be usquebaugh. The moment you’ve had enough, you just shout that out and I’ll stop.”

“Usquebaugh? What the hell is that?”

“That’s a fancy word for whiskey. And if you’re a good girl, there’ll be more rounds of whiskey sours in your future.”

“Ooh, goodie!” My legs involuntarily twinkled at the thought.

Soon my legs were moving in tandem with my lover’s hands. Cora’s palms roamed over my biform flesh gingerly at first until the percussion of the spanking pulled me into its hypnotic rhythm and desire surged up my lower limbs to meet its match in the flame of a strong woman’s commanding touch. I could feel the sweat and creases of Cora’s palm as her flesh melted, if only for the flash of a second, into mine.

With startling economical strokes Cora tattooed my rear until the ever-tightening coils of electric current passing between us became one radiant pilot light.

Pussy flavors were in flux liquefying my loins but I was too focused on the tactile sensations burning up my bottom to remove my hands from Cora’s calves; those tightly wound muscles harder than rebar were the only ballast keeping my bucking torso from falling off the sofa.

I took as much as I could, taking the spanking right up to the point where the ping! of a smack morphed into a strident stinging and the room started to spin placing my soma spang in the realm of pleasure.

“Oh, God. Cora! Enough.”

“What’s the safe word?” she asked as she spun me around and cupped my face in her overworked hand.

“Usquebaugh!”

We made love right there on the sofa, squeaking be damned. Cora’s nipples were hard and tasted like sugar glazed candies. I sipped of her breasts, those dainty liqueurs letting my tongue laze around her areola as I secured her rosy thimbles between lips and plucked them with my fingers. I could have coddled her bosom all night but when I felt my lover’s hand pressed between my thighs tighter than a leaf in a closed book, I was driven to pleasant distraction.

I jolted upright while guiding Cora’s fingers into my wanton pussy.

“You’re the wettest lover I’ve ever had, Claire,” Cora said while pressing a hand to the small of my back to support us both. “That spanking must have really turned you on.”

“You really turn me on. Push those fingers into me. Make me come.”

She used the tail end of her shirt to pat down some of the moisture between my legs; my juices were threatening to send us both into a birling competition. She used the pad of her index finger like a rotor around my clit letting the whorls of movements encompass my vulva before circling back up to that faradized nub, the illustrious clit longing to be nibbled and sucked until I finally collapsed into her arms shaking from an orgasm more powerful than I had ever known.

Then she was fucking me again with her fingers, my labia folds proffering velveteen jackets for her mission. She fucked with her digits the way she swatted my derriere with her palms, using fleet measured ingresses but with such purpose and intensity I felt I was born to yield to this goddess of love.

Gently pushing me on my back, Cora ignited my vulva once again, this time napping my most sensitive spots with her languet of desire. Her ambitious tongue aswirl, she crested from crissum to pip crisscrossing back and forth until finally alighting on my clit.

I plowed my fingers through Cora’s crimson curls uttering breathless appeals for more pressure, more tongue, Yes, fuck me with that tongue, I pleaded. I loved how Cora kept parting my thighs lest they trap her head like a vice. I couldn’t help it. I wanted to be consumed and she was eating me in a way that made me feel like the most desirable woman on the planet, as if my quim juice offered the nepenthe that could make a world weary police officer forget all she’s seen, negate all her troubles. When she found my sweet spot, that tongue shined place that could brook not one more lick of pleasure, I cried her name out in ecstasy, her name now commensurate with a wish fulfilled.

We finally moved to the bedroom, also sparsely decorated but at least had a music player and a queen sized bed with lots of throw pillows.

Cora pulled open the drawer of her nightstand and brandished a vibrator. My lover explained away its phallic magnitude by claiming she purchased the pinkest one she could find. We played with that for a while, made love again, this time with me on top straddling her quim after bringing her to orgasm with my tongue and fingers. She was delicious and delightful. I wanted the evening to last forever, but, alas and alack, even the best girlfriends have to work in the morning.

We took a shower and collapsed into a sated heap, falling into a luscious slumber. I had dreams of doing everyday things with Cora, though one scene of a dream had us making out in a movie theater.

In the morning we showered again and I swelled to the lilt of a percolating coffee maker. My first cup of coffee with Cora! It’s the simple things that make me want to take a lover and hope it will last forever.

I slipped into the jeans I was wearing the night before; they seemed to fit better now after so much aerobic activity.

When I walked into the kitchen, Cora was in uniform. A service revolver rested like a ticking bomb next to an I ♥ SF mug.

“Wow,” I said. “You really are a cop.”

“Yeah,” Cora said, her brows pinching in consternation. “This is the part where you say, ‘Last night was great. Sorry, I don’t have time for coffee.’ You bolt because the realities of a cop’s life are just too scary.”

I held up my hands in mock surrender. “Well, this time you’ve got the script wrong, Cora.” I moved close to her, keeping the gun out of my purview. A crumb of toast was rooted in the corner of her mouth and I licked it away. I kissed her lips and cheek, kissed a tear away from her eye.

“Last night was great,” I said, running my hands down her back until settling them firmly on her hips, pulling up close, stepping into the comfort of her womanly embrace. “When do we break out the handcuffs?”

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Read Olivia’s other sexy stories published on Every Night Erotica, here.

Olivia London is the author of the story collections San Francisco Lovin’ and San Francisco Bliss: California Erotica, both published by Renaissance E Books and available from Amazon.com.  Titles available frome Xcite Books include Lesbian Love 3, Healthy Addictions, Woman Friendly and the erotic paranormal story Soul Bumping.  The author may be reached at olivialondonstories@gmail.com.