Perfection

I writhed in the bed, discorded and full of over stimulated energy. I was uncomfortable and yearning. He lay over me watching me twist and I begged "Please hit me".

There was a pause and then a repeat.

He raised his arm. I suck breath in anticipation. I close my lids. He brought his hand down firmly against my cheek. I felt each line in his palm and print stick heat onto my skin. My eyes roll, my ear rang. My sir hit me across the face. This is the most perfect thing.

I asked for more, he littered my breasts and thighs with smacks. My face softened in a wash of ecstasy. He stroked my cheek. He looks at me, watching, mostly enjoying and he says "You look so beautiful".