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Jealousy leads a sub to get punished.

My hips met his fingers wanting to feel him deeper, harder in me. Carefully, he slid me off his lap and made me lie back on the sofa, supported on my elbows as he raised one of my legs to rest on the back of the couch and placed my other foot on the ground. I was splayed wide open for him and he settled between my legs, gazing at me with an intensity that embarrassed me.

"You are beautiful, Alex." He said, his hands stroking the insides of my thighs and meeting at my crotch. One hand stroked further up onto my belly, the fingers of the other slid into me again, and I arched up to meet them. As he bent his head to taste me, my fingers tugged my nipples again, and I cried out with the wonder of feeling his tongue, hot and slick, on my clit, stroking, rubbing, while his fingers thrust deep and hard. As I had earlier, he looked up at me, watching my eyes, my face.

It felt incredible and yet I still wanted more. I raised myself up until I could support myself on one hand behind me, the fingers of the other I tangled in his hair and drew his mouth to my breast. He suckled hard on my nipple as he slid another finger into me, thrusting deep while the heel of his hand pressed down on my clit, rubbing roughly. I struggled to breathe as the sensations washed over me, heat, need, longing and lust.

Much too soon, I was crying out his name and shuddering with the most intense climax I had ever experienced, my mind empty, my body drowning under an immense, boiling wave of sensations that began, hot, in my belly and spread outwards, all over me. Kissing me, Carlos went on stroking inside me until the last spasms subsided and I fell back onto the couch, dragging him with me, half lying on top of me, his fingers still buried deep, claiming me.

For a while, we dozed together, sated and content to feel each other's closeness until Carlos raised his head off my shoulder and said, "Let's go for dinner and then come back here for dessert."

It was a suggestion I could not resist, so I sat up and looked at myself. There was no way I could go out of the house with this dress on any more, stained and wrinkled as it was. "Let me go and change," I said, "I won't be long."

I left him trying to smooth his shirt over his chest as I went upstairs, pulling my dress off over my head as I walked. In the bathroom, I quickly freshened up, then I pulled my next best outfit out of the closet. A cream-coloured lacy bra, white blouse, narrow, almost knee-length black skirt and low heeled black sandals. If Vejer was like all the other historical Andalusian towns I had no intention of breaking my neck wearing high heels.

When I got back into the living room, Carlos gave me a good-natured wolf-whistle and held first the door to the house then the door to the pickup for me. As he drove, I watched Carlos's profile in the weak light from the dashboard. To me, he was beautiful, although his was not the kind of face that usually adorned advertisements and magazines. I thought about it for a moment and came up with the reason. His features were too strong, not bland enough to be considered perfect but that was just what I found most attractive about his looks. Perfection, or whatever came closest to it, had always been boring to me.

"You're going to make me blush if you go on staring at me like that." He smiled.

"I'd better stop, then." I teased.

"No, don't." Carlos replied. "I like it. And on the way back I'll stop somewhere so that I can return the favour."

Gradually, the pickup's engine strained against the incline as Carlos drove uphill, expertly negotiating sharp serpentines, the trunks of trees that flanked the road glowing softly in the headlamps. The road levelled out and we reached the outskirts of Vejer. Carlos parked the pickup in a narrow residential street and we walked from there, hand in hand, through the massive arched gate of the city wall.

The cobbled streets were narrow, with small two- or three-storied whitewashed houses on either side.

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