A heartfelt apology V1

I shouldn’t have come back. I knew it, yet there I was, once more wedged in the damn wall, cursing my own stubbornness. The stone pressed against my hips, holding me in place as my legs flailed helplessly behind me.

The faint crunch of boots on gravel broke the stillness, and my heart raced. Him. I bit my lip, a hot flush rising to my cheeks as I braced myself for the inevitable.

I felt his hands, rough yet deliberate, sliding up the backs of my thighs raising my skirt. My breath hitched as his fingers hooked under the waistband of my panties, tugging them down to pool around my thighs. The evening air kissed my exposed skin, a chilling contrast to the heat radiating from my flushed body.

This was the moment I expected—his hands, his spank, his teasing. But then, something unexpected happened. Something wet and warm pressed against my second most sacred place. A forbidden zone.

“Ahh—!” I gasped, startled, as his tongue swirled against the tight ring of my anus, testing, teasing. I squirmed, trying to get away, but his hands held my asscheeks spread apart holding them in place.

“What are you—?” My voice was cut off by an involuntary moan as his tongue plunged deeper, hot and insistent. The wet, sinful sensation sent shocks of heat coursing through my body, each stroke of his tongue igniting nerves I hadn’t even known existed. My mind reeled, caught between outrage and an unexpected and shameful sensation of pleasure..

This is definitely not what I meant by apology!

But no matter how much I wanted to protest, my body betrayed me. My nipples stiffened, scraping against the rough fabric, and a slick heat pooled between my thighs, dripping down onto my already humiliating position. I whimpered, torn between shame and an unbearable, forbidden pleasure.

“Ahh—hnngh!” My cries echoed softly in the silent forest, mixing with the wet, obscene sounds of his tongue lapping at me, each stroke deliberate, methodical.

I hated that I was aroused, hated that I found his tongue in my ass so goddam hot.

Every flick, every probing push sent shivers racing up my spine. His saliva mingled with the wetness trickling from my untouched pussy, the sticky warmth coating my thighs in a lewd cocktail of arousal and shame.

He was maddeningly disciplined, keeping his tongue solely on my ass, avoiding my aching pussy entirely. That restraint only heightened my frustration, leaving me writhing against the stone, helpless to the onslaught of sensation. My body quaked, trembling under the weight of an unfamiliar pleasure so sharp and consuming it left me gasping for breath.

“Mmph... ahhh—stop!” I half-moaned, half-pleaded, though even I didn’t know if I wanted him to. My words fell on deaf ears as his tongue plunged deeper, swirling, teasing, his hands kneading my ass as though to anchor me in place.

I lost track of time, my world narrowing to the wet, obscene sounds of his tongue and the building pressure in my core. My body quaked, every nerve on fire as he pushed me closer to the edge.

Finally, after what felt like an eternity, he pulled back. My ass felt swollen, sensitive, every nerve tingling from the ****. I panted, my body trembling, my face flushed a deep, burning red.

I felt his hands tug my panties back into place, the damp fabric clinging to my skin his touch surprisingly gentle as he smoothed down my skirt, as if trying to erase the evidence of what had just transpired.

Then, with a firm push, he helped me free from the wall, leaving me trembling and unsteady. Before I could gather myself, I noticed it—a small folded note rested on the stone beside me, just like before. My hands trembled as I picked it up, my mind a chaotic swirl of humiliation, anger, and a shameful, burning arousal I couldn’t ignore.

He reveals her rear, in the dim light’s glow,

Her shame laid bare, in a lingering show.

With a tongue that traces, he starts his act,

A sinful penance, both raw and exact.

Each lick a reminder of the trespass made,

In the silent ruin where their fates are swayed.

In the depths of the night, where morality frays,

Her pride is laid bare, in his sinful ways.

His heart aches for a chance to make things right,

To turn his guilt into a hopeful light.

In the dimming glow where shadows play,

He prays her heart might find a way.

He hopes his actions, though stark and bold,

Will lead to forgiveness, and a story retold