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Master and Submissive	By : sugarkisses Category: WWF/WWE > Het - Male/Female Views: 5702 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I do not own or know CM Punk/Phil Brooks, I make no money from this. This is a work of ficttion!

Chapter List
- 4
- 5
- 6
I’m awakened by sweet kisses on my neck… Shifting in bed, I roll towards Punk and try to hide my face against his chest.
“Wakey, wakey, pussycat” he teases, brushing my hair out of my face. “I want some coffee”
“What time is it, sir?” I query, yawning.
“Time for you to get out of bed and make me some coffee while I take a shower”
“Yes, sir” I reply, slowly sitting up. Oh god, he was right: my backside stings and I gasp.
“Aw, did somebody get spanked too hard last night?” Punk jokes.
“I’m okay, sir” I quickly respond, getting out of bed. I run into the bathroom to relieve myself and brush my teeth, exiting as quickly as I can.
I’m looking around for something to wear when he states, “Just put on one of my shirts from my closet”
I grab one of his H2O shirts and slide it over my head: it falls to just below my backside.
Punk smiles. “Nice… now go get that coffee brewing”
Off I go into the kitchen, passing our discarded clothes from the night before. I’m going to have to do some laundry… I get the coffee going and return to the living room, picking up our belongings from the floor and couch. I separate mine from his and go back to the bedroom, placing his clothes in the hamper and my own by my suitcase. My backside stings a bit when I bend down, but I don’t allow myself to whimper like I want to: frankly, I enjoyed the spanking the night before, and I wouldn’t want Punk to think otherwise or to worry that he hurt me. I can hear him in the shower, so I return to the kitchen and wait for the coffee to finish brewing. Glancing at the clock, I see that it’s after noon… wow, I really slept in late.
The coffee finishes brewing and I make us both a cup just as he comes into the kitchen: his hair is wet and slicked back upon his head and he’s wearing a white towel around his waist… he looks good…
“Coffee, honey” Punk demands, stretching his hand out towards me.
I give him his cup and watch as he takes a sip and carries his drink into the living room. Sighing, he sits down on the couch and turns on the TV.
“Come on in here” he implores, waving me in.
I do as he asks, walking over to where he sits with my coffee.
“Turn around”
As I comply, he lifts the back of my shirt so that he can get a good look at my backside.
“Oh, honey…”
I can hear the worry in his voice. “I’m okay, sir” I try.
“No, no, no… I was too rough. Look at you, you’ve got welts”
I can’t see my ass, so I can only go by his word. I bite back a hiss when he draws his fingertips over my flesh.
“Baby, can you sit down?”
“Of course, sir” I reply cockily: I put myself down beside him, wincing a bit, but refusing to show any other sign of distress. I angle my body towards his so that I can see him.
Punk raises his eyebrows at me. “You know, you’re not fooling me… I know you’re hurting”
“Sir” I answer honestly, “I don’t want you to think that you can’t spank me”
“I’m not saying that, Star… I’m saying that I just need to rein it in a bit” He pauses, sipping from his coffee. “It’s not my intention to hurt you”
“I know it’s not, sir” I coo, reaching out and touching his arm. Mmm, he feels smooth to the touch: he must have just shaved in the shower. I can feel the power in his bicep…
The local afternoon news is on, and we watch it together in silence, drinking our coffee. After a while, he grasps my right hand in his left… Funny, but we’ve never held hands before, and it feels surprisingly intimate. I squeeze his fingers and he squeezes back, which sends a thrill through me.
When he finishes his coffee, he puts his empty mug on the floor and turns to me. “Come here” he orders, tugging at my hand.
I place my mug on the nearby end table and move closer to him…
“Straddle me” Punk orders.
“Yes, sir” I reply, slowly straddling his legs so that I face him. He places his hands on my waist, sliding them under the shirt that I’m wearing.
“You’re such a pretty girl” he whispers, placing his hands on my face. He brings my mouth down to his, kissing me.
I wrap my arms around his neck as his tongue invades my mouth: god, but he tastes good. I moan at his sensual kiss… I can feel him growing hard between my legs, the towel being the only barrier between us.
Punk releases my mouth and pulls the shirt up and over my head, placing it on the couch beside him. He cups my breasts in his hands and embraces me once more. This time, he is gentle with me, just brushing his thumbs over my nipples. As I breathe into him, he pulls the towel away from his body and tosses it to the floor…
“Fuck me” Punk commands softly, placing his hands on my lower back.
Oh, I want nothing more than to do as I’m told. His kisses have me wet, and I easily slide onto his hard cock. I moan and look into his eyes… god, but the hazel is intense.
“Baby, ride me” he implores, kissing my throat.
I place my hands on the back of the couch and begin to move. I’m thinking that he wants it faster, but he surprises me…
“Just like that” he huffs, his lips against my left ear, “Nice and slow”
I lick at his throat as I slide up and down him… god, but it feels good to have his big, thick cock in my pussy. I find the tattoo behind his ear and suck at it. Looking out the window, I can see people moving on the street below us: it fucking turns me on.
Punk must know what I’m thinking, because he whispers, “Wonder if they can see us down there…”
“Mmm, sir” I moan, attacking his tattoo with my tongue.
He pulls me forward so that he can lick and suck at my right nipple: he even tugs at it with his teeth, though gently.
“I love it when you play with my tits, sir” I cry, holding him close.
Punk laughs against my flesh. “You’re developing some chutzpah” he states. “I like it”
When he moves to my other breast, I keen, arching my back.
“Don’t pull away” he warns, moving one of his hands to my upper back to keep me close. “Keep fucking me, it feels good”
God, the mouth on him… I kiss him again, sucking on his lip ring tenderly. I’m so wet around him, and amazed that he is being selfless enough to let me fuck him. He reaches between our bodies with his right hand and finds my clit with his thumb…
“Oh, sir” I whine, tilting my head back. “Oh, please don’t stop, sir…”
“I have no intention of stopping until you come” Punk retorts, running his tongue over my throat and then sucking.
He has me close with his mouth and his thumb… but I want him to come, too, and I tell him so.
Punk chuckles in response. “Oh, baby, when I feel your pretty little pussy go off around me, I’ll come, don’t you worry about that…”
“May I go faster, sir?” I query, licking my lips.
“Mmm…” he answers, licking my throat once more, “Pussycat, you can do whatever you want to my cock: just make yourself come”
There’s a sweetness to what he says, the fact that he cares about my pleasure. I begin to move faster and harder over him, the pleasure building in my body. He’s still strumming my clit and working at my throat…
“Oh, god, sir” I mew, lowering my forehead to his shoulder.
“Yes, honey…” he encourages, “Come for me…”
He has given an order, and I happily comply, going over the edge. My inner muscles squeeze him and I call his name, shutting my eyes.
“Look at me” Punk entreats, placing his left hand on my cheek and pulling me back so that I can see his face. “Look at me while I come”
I open my eyes at his command, still spasming around him. I watch as he furrows his brow with pleasure. His eyes lock on mine and his mouth opens as he releases a low moan… Punk grunts as his cock throbs inside of me, releasing his fluid.
“Oh, baby…” he laments, tilting his head back. “Oh, god…”
The only sounds in the room come from the news on the television and our panting. I’m resting my head on his shoulder, periodically pressing kisses to the side of his neck. Punk wraps his arms around me and holds me close… his left hand strays down to my buttock and I tense…
“Sorry, baby” he apologizes, immediately shifting his hand upward.
“It’s okay, sir” I respond, leaning back and kissing him.
He chuckles a bit, framing my face in his hands. “You’re awfully affectionate”
“Is that bad, sir?” I question nervously.
“Not at all” he returns, kissing me back.
We kiss slowly and sweetly, tongues twining. I pour my emotions into the embrace, running my fingers through his hair and caressing his scalp. I’m starting to fall for him, I can feel it...
“Mmm, pussycat” Punk breathes, pulling back, “You taste like coffee”
I giggle and smooth his hair back. “Would you like another cup, sir?”
“Yes, I would… but first…”
Punk hands me his shirt and I put it on again, slowly dismounting him (we both cry out in loss). I take his mug from the floor and go to the kitchen, refilling it and fixing the coffee just the way that he likes it. When I return to the living room, he has the towel wrapped around his waist again and is watching the sports report on TV. I hand him his drink and sit down beside him on the couch: I smile when he puts a possessive arm around my shoulders.
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TBC
- 4
- 5
- 6
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