When they were in their private room that night, Jerud descended on Fiona, raising her skirt, his hand instantly swacking her fleshy ass with a sharp staccato of smacks.
“Ouch! What are you doing, you bloody bastard?” she roared, jerking away from him.
He hauled her back and sitting down on the bed this time, he flung her over his lap.
“Stop it!” she howled in protest, though a stronger Jerud spanked her anyway.
“This is what you get for flirting, my lusty wench!”
But he wasn’t stopping, the longer he smacked her, the more enthused he was by the sight her bobbing red ass, the more he smacked her harder yet.
“I’ll teach you to flaunt yourself at other men!”
“I was not!” she protested.
“Just to make sure,” he advised her.
Flailing her arms and kicking her legs, she finally threw herself off Jerud’s lap and landed on the floor with a rude jerk, her sore bottom hitting the wood hard.
“You have no right to do that,” she scowled.
“Indeed I do,” he said looking at her sternly, though his expression was quickly changing into an exuberant smile. “You look mighty sassy, my Fi, so flustered and all hot. Your cheeks are scarlet, as I suppose your fine arse is.” He snickered.
“Don’t you laugh at me!” she snapped.
“And why shouldn’t I?” he joked. He pulled her eye to eye with him, his hands beginning another kind of journey over her tempting female treasures. She tried for a moment to push away, from him, but found the tantalizing rush that roared through her too much to resist.
“So, tell me, my love, what did the bastard say?” Jerud purred to her as he drew her back on the bed with him. He pulled his fiancee over his reclining body, his hands pulling at the strings of her blouse. He was looking for her breasts to swing loose out over him, so he could press his face against them.
“He thought I should act more like a lady,” she told him with a twinkle in her eyes. “He was hardly a bastard, much more a gentleman.”
“Gentleman, my ass!” Jerud exclaimed. “He’s a bloody blacksmith!” He had Fiona’s breasts free, his mouth bringing a pink nipple to his mouth. He sucked it hard.
“Ouch!” she cried. “You’re hurting me.” It wasn’t much of a protest. She loved the way he turned her baby soft nipples into hard purple buds.
He took handfuls of her flesh and pressed his face into the warm sweet smelling cushion. She must have pressed a honeysuckle bud to her skin, for that was the smell of her body; the lovely earthy fragrance tickled his nose with a spring time lusty fervor.
“You don’t treat me like a lady!” Fiona remarked, with a little petulant pout. She was suddenly sitting back on his groin. Even through her skirt, she could feel the familiar manhood rising under her, and her hot bottom squirmed excitedly against it, as she delivered the gentle admonishment.
“I never asked you to be a lady, just my wife,” Jerud told her. He watched her naked breasts swing against her torso. “Come here, you luscious brat,” he encouraged her, as he drew her toward him again, her breasts at last dangling over his mouth. His hands moved to her waist and he pulled at the skirt, tugging to get it down so he could have her naked against him.
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