She was acting different. Strange. Unpredictable. Reminded me of a cat I had or rather a cat that set up a temporary residence with me. At times, random times, when I was petting her she would bite me. Without provocation. Without warning. But it always pissed me off and that night she was pissing me off, Samantha, not the cat. Hot and cold. Flirting one second then spiteful the next. Rubbing her firm bouncy little ass all over me then slapping my hand when I tried to touch. She was doing more than pushing my buttons. She was playing them like a fast flowing, energetic and stormy piano concerto. A cymbal crash of pans in the kitchen ushered in the crescendo.
There was a pan in the floor and water everywhere. Water on the counter top. Water on the front the t-shirt she was wearing. The t-shirt that was now laying like a transparent second skin on her firm breasts. Obviously the water was cold. I was a kid reaching for a shiny new toy. She slapped away my hand before it was half way there. “Don’t even think about it.” Don’t think about it? What else was I supposed to think about? I was quicker the second time and caught her hard nipple in a tight pinch and gave her my best ‘oh yeah?’ smile. She slapped me. Not my hand, my face. Hard. Put some weight behind it. Stood there giving me this look. The look. Damn that fucking look, part ‘now what are you going to do’, part ‘little kid going nah nah nana nah nah’, and all of it sexy as hell. So I did the first thing that came to mind. I slapped her. When she tied to slap me again I grabbed her hand and it was on. Her trying to knee me in the balls, me trying not to let that happen. She was kicking and scratching. It was like I holding onto a wildcat so I twisted her arm up behind her back like the cops do. It works. The pressure on bending the shoulder the wrong way hurts. Slowed her down. I grabbed her other hand and pulled it behind her, gripping both of her thumbs in one hand. Now by simply pulling up I put tension on both shoulders. The pain encouraged her to stop fighting and at the same to lean forward onto the counter top. "....Bad boys, bad boys, whatcha gonna do…."
My intention was to give her a spanking. When I pulled up the t-shirt I wasn’t surprised to see she wasn’t wearing panties. But as I looked at her gorgeous ass I realized I was aroused. Extremely aroused. Hell, I was hard enough to hammer nails and decided that is what I would do. Not hammer nails, hammer her ass. My shorts and boxers came off fairly easy but I was in such a hurry I think I ripped some skin off my hips. A little upward lift of her hands stopped her struggles and a little more ended her continuous stream of threats and dire warnings. She was wet. And hot. As aroused as I was. I pulled out and re-entered several times. Love the way it feels. Lips kissing my cockhead. Parting open, hugging me as I thrust in. But I said hammer her ass didn’t I?
Wetting a finger in her pussy and then inserting it in her ass caused me to have to reapply the pressure to her shoulders again. Oh, talk about hugging and squeezing, a sweet tight grip on my cock all the way in. Pausing to feel it. Then slow and steady. In and out. That was the intention. Until she said “are you going to fuck me or what”? With a growl I let go of her hands, grabbed her hips and hammered her into the counter. “How’s. This. You. Smart. Mouthed. Little. Bitch……
I was caching my breath when she stood and turned to me with a sly/evil little smirk on her face.
“What are you grinning at?”
“I told you I always get what I want.”
That’s how she ended up with a freshly spanked ass, tied-up on the floor of my closet, waiting for me to come give her another attitude adjustment…but that’s another story.
Kittens, they require a lot of discipline but sure are fun playmates.