He jumped up off the bed as he saw my anger rise. My voice was louder than I intended, my grip on my control slipping.
I stood up, too, not sure what he was doing, then he began to unbuckle his pants.
I rolled my eyes. I was not in the mood to play — not even remotely — I was close to the edge of no return.
He shook his head as if to shake me off. “I have something that will make you feel better.” He had done this to me, it was his fault for pushing, pushing, pushing me.
He pushed his jeans down past his hips, his underwear, too, and leaned on his elbows on the pile of clean laundry. “Go ahead. This will make you feel better. I’m sorry, ma’am.”
My breath caught as I looked at his bright white bottom, curved and muscular before me. I smacked him hard twice, but it hurt me more than it did him. I wondered aloud where my belt was, but he quickly removed his and handed it to me.
And as I thrashed his bottom I vented about the true object of my disdain and dislike. The Neighbor writhed and bucked, my voice a strange accompaniment to the sounds of leather on skin.
The red bloom was large and growing beneath my attentions. He was nearly trying to crawl away. So I stopped, said, “One more,” hit him harder than ever before and added to the male authority figure currently in my life, “And that’s for reminding me of my father.”
I drooped a little, confused. Both turned on, filled with love for him, and neatly exorcised.
TN had riled me up and offered his body as a vessel to demonstrate my anger to my demons both present and past.
I felt like one of those color-swirled marbles.
I caressed his rear end and pressed a cool Topo Chico bottle to the redness. He stood up and kissed me, gave me a big hug.
When he pulled away I saw his erection.
He shoved me roughly onto the pile of clothes, ripped my panties down and shoved himself inside. Peyton was watching TV on the other side of the locked bedroom door as I was getting pummeled from the inside, my anger wisping away like a blown out match.
Then it was done. My insides blooming, my chest heaving, my anger vanished.
The pile of laundry remained.
[Don’t forget today is the last day for Boobday submissions!]