I arched my back, knowing full well that I was teasing him with my naked body. I wiped the chair slowly, taking my time as I wiggled my bottom against his cock. He said nothing, but by the way his hands were squeezing my hip a bit tighter I knew he was enjoying himself.
When I was done, he took the napkin from me and tossed it on the table. He grabbed the chair and moved it in front of me.
“Sit down, little girl. Spread your legs for me,” he said softly. I sucked in a breath. His fingers lingered on my skin as I turned and pressed my sore bottom against the chair. Even more timidly, I grasped at the tops of my thighs with my hands.
I would be so exposed if I did as he asked. He pulled up his own chair and took a seat right in front of me. He leaned forward, putting his elbows on his knees and clasping his hands together as he waited expectantly.
I glanced down at his fingers, squirming as I imagined what they would feel like directly on my naked skin.
With a hard swallow, I very slowly spread my thighs open. He stared straight in between my legs, studying every inch of me so closely that I could do nothing but watch and wait for what he might say. Would he think I was pretty? Would he like that I was so wet?
I trembled, chewing my lip nervously as I waited for him to decide what to do next.
“That’s a very wet little pussy, Cami. We need to take care of that, don’t we?” he asked, and my thighs twitched as I almost lost my nerve.
“I…” I started and he cleared his throat.
“You’ve been wanting to touch that pretty little pussy ever since I took you over my knee this morning, haven’t you?” he observed and this time he looked directly into my eyes. It was as if he could see right through me. I looked down at the floor, fidgeting with my hands and trying to find the courage to answer.
“Yes,” I whispered hoarsely.
“You were going to touch yourself at the breakfast table. You thought the tablecloth would hide such a naughty thing, didn’t you?”
“I did,” I blurted, mortified that he knew exactly what I had thought.
“I didn’t allow you to touch that pretty pussy even though you wanted to, isn’t that right, Cami?”
“Yes,” I murmured shyly.
“You’re going to touch yourself now, little girl. You’re going to use your fingers on that needy little clit and make yourself come right here in front of me,” he dictated.
“I can’t,” I blanched.
“You will, naughty girl,” he answered confidently, and my face burned with fire.
“But I…” I answered weakly.
“Do I need to go to the kitchen and fetch a wooden spoon, Cami?” he asked, and I started, rushing to meet his gaze. He was deadly serious.
“A wooden spoon?” I echoed nervously.
“Yes, little girl. You have one of two choices right now. Either you can follow my instructions and come for me, or you will be going over my knee for a hard spanking with a wooden spoon that will no doubt leave you sobbing and very sore,” he said firmly.
“I don’t want a spanking with a wooden spoon,” I pouted.
“Then you know what to do, little girl,” he said gently.
My clit throbbed as if it was answering for him. I swallowed hard, but my hand was already moving of its own accord. My fingers grazed across my inner thigh, and I bit my lip, just touching the outer folds of my pussy.
“Please,” I begged.
“Go on, little girl. Touch yourself for me. I want to see you come,” he coaxed, and my nipples hardened into sensitive spikes. I wondered if they would show through my dress and my bra, but as my fingers found my clit, I forgot about everything else entirely.
I started to touch myself as I’d done endless times before, but this time it felt empty. This time, I wanted more.
“Please, I don’t…” I started.
“Please what, little girl?” he pressed. He cocked his head to the side, and I looked at him through the curtain of my lashes.