After a while of knowing nothing except the feel of Roland’s body and the need to be as closely pressed against him as possible, Teresa slowly became aware again of where she was. They were together on his desk, Teresa tightly bent over and Roland covering her.

They were still gasping like sprinters who’d breasted the ribbon and crossed the hundred-metre mark. He reached under her to hold and cup her breasts, his body still pressed tight against her arse, his cock slowly shrinking inside her.

His face was beside hers, over her shoulder after he’d collapsed onto her back. He looked at her with something soft, some form of adoration, in his eyes. His mouth opened, then closed. He had nothing to say.

But eventually Teresa said, “I felt that! You coming! Like a little splash in me. Little splash of you! It was lovely. I felt you come in me.”

Roland kissed her. “That was… amazing. You can have as much of my come as you like. Whenever you like. And wherever.”

She chuckled. That didn’t need an answer, but it was good to hear. He said, “How’s your arse?”

“You mean the spanking or the buttsex?”

“Let’s start with the spanking.”

“The proper spanking? I feel not sore. Very not sore. Warm. Lovely and toasty. And I felt all floaty, for a while. Not long enough. And while I was floating, nothing hurt. Is that supposed to happen?”

“Absolutely. Yes.”

“Then proper spankings are great! But… you’d give a girl that for being bad? How’s that supposed to discourage her? I want another one of those. Lots of them. I mean, once I’ve recovered a bit. But soon.”

”That was a good-girl spanking. A proper one. But there are bad-girl spankings, too, and I think if I ever have to give you one of those, you’d, um, modify your behaviour. To avoid me giving you another one. It’s not just that it hurts more, when I spank to punish. It’s the knowing I’m cross with you. It feels very different.”

“’If you ever have to give me one of those.’ You’re assuming a lot, aren’t you?”