Across my Knee: The Delights of Spanking. Various

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      Another small rush of fluid escaped my cunt, making my panties wet. It was pretty clear how my body felt about it. I just wasn’t sure of my mind.

      ‘It looks nice by the way,’ he said when we got closer to home.

      ‘What does?’ My mind had been going a mile a minute. I was lost in a fog of my own thought.

      At the red light he turned a little and pressed his fingertip over the small lightning bolt, pressing it against and slightly into my skin. ‘This. It’s going to look even better when it’s the only thing you’re wearing. That and a whole lot of red skin.’

      Judging by the sound that slipped out of me at that moment, my mind was as on board with his plan as my body.

      The rest of the car ride home was impossibly long. A molasses drip of time that made me clench my finger with anticipation.

      Chuck unloaded – gallant as ever – while I tried to unlock the door with trembling fingers. Inside, our bags hit the hardwood floor with a rustling protest and he turned to me, pressing in close, and said, ‘Take everything off but the necklace.’

      My mouth popped open – I assumed I had something to say – and yet I said nothing. My hands warred restlessly with one another in front of me.

      Chuck locked the door and, when he found me standing perfectly still, he put his big hands – familiar and loved and, yes, about to spank me, I assumed – on my shoulders and physically turned me. ‘Go,’ he said, patting my ass and prompting me on.

      I shuffled forward, my boots feeling more like concrete blocks strapped to my feet than fashionable footwear. Trudging up the stairs, I came up with a thousand and one arguments against what was about to happen. And yet, when I stripped my silk panties free of my body, they were not damp. They were soaked.

      My pussy clenched and unclenched as if on the verge of orgasm as I waited. Tom Petty was right, the waiting is the hardest part. So I counted the tiles that ran along the top of our bedroom wall. Imported Italian tiles that had a design in the perfect shade of cobalt blue. We’d found them when –

      ‘Ready, Alice?’

      I hadn’t heard him coming and I jumped, clutching at my throat, at the contraband small silver charm that had started this all. But I felt a throbbing pulse in my neck, my ears, my cunt.

      ‘I … can’t we … I could return it!’ I blurted.

      He chuckled, undoing his sensible maroon tie and kicking off his expensive leather loafers. ‘No, we can’t. I don’t do make-believe and I won’t pretend you didn’t do it. I mean, how many honest-to-goodness requests do I make of you?’

      ‘Not many.’

      ‘And hasn’t that always been … what shall we call it?’ He put his tie on the tie rack in his closet, his shoes neatly in line with the others. He shucked his button-down and his slacks.

      ‘Pet peeve?’ I sighed.

      Chuck nodded. ‘Good choice. Hasn’t the birthday/Christmas list thing always been a pet peeve of mine? If you put it on the list you don’t –’

      ‘– buy it,’ I finished softly.

      He walked to me with slow measured steps. Silent like a fucking ninja is my husband. He kneed my legs apart and clinically reached between my trembling legs and pushed a single finger into me. ‘You are extremely wet, Alice.’

      I nodded, blushing.

      ‘But you’re still trying to get out of it.’

      Another shrug and I stared at my bare toes on the coffee-coloured rug. Our room was chilly and my nipples spiked with the chill. Chuck stripped off his underwear.

      ‘Kneel,’ he said.

      Cock in hand, he touched the tip of himself to one nipple and then the other.

      I waited, I watched, his extremely warm smooth skin brushing my chilly flesh. He stood straighter, moved closer, rubbed himself on my bottom lip and said, ‘Open.’

      I opened my mouth, sighing as I did it, and let him slide his erection past my lips and over my tongue. He held my head in his hands, thrusting slowly, fucking my mouth as a flurry of butterflies filled my belly and more moisture slipped from my body.

      He only did it for a second and when he pulled free of my mouth I had to force myself not to chase after him with my lips.

      ‘I think, if you tell the truth, you want it.’ Chuck stared me down, pressed his finger to my lightning bolt.

      A shiver coursed through me and goosebumps rose on my thighs and breasts.

      ‘I want it but I’m desperately anxious.’ It was hard to admit but I made myself.

      We were close and honest and I loved him more than anything. I told him the truth even when it made me uncomfortable.

      He nodded, brushed my hair back and said, ‘So we’ll get on with the spanking.’

      ‘But it’s my birthday soon!’ I blurted, fear lancing through my belly. As if that were the most logical argument.

      ‘What better reason then? It’s an occasion.’ He smiled and pointed to our bed. ‘On your knees. Forty is a big milestone. I think we need to do it up right. Ten hard, ten soft, ten hard, ten soft.’

      I gaped at him. ‘Forty blows?’

      ‘You’re right,’ he said, taking my hand and helping me stand. ‘I forgot the one for luck.’

      Chuck turned me and nudged the back of my legs with his knee. I buckled to the bed and put my ass in the air. Visions of our first and only spanking ricocheted through my mind. The sound of it, the feel of his hand striking my flesh, the sparkling pain bleeding into the dull throbbing pleasure. And the fucking after … oh, God.

      His fingers slipped back inside me while another one touched my clit. ‘Your mouth says no, Alice. But your pussy says yes.’

      When he said pussy, when he talked bluntly to me, it did something to me. My cunt gripped up around his fingers and my eyes shut tight. I wanted to come so bad but knew I had miles to go before that happened.

      ‘We’ll start with hard.’

      I braced myself but what came was a big maddening yawn of time. Nothing.

      Chuck touched my ass with a soft caress from the base of my spine to the bottom of my cheek and back up again. A smoothing lulling stroke that had my muscles turning to butter.

      Until the gentle touch vanished, and his hand came down.

      The crack split my hearing before I actually felt it and then fire nestled in my skin. Tiny tentacles of pain spread out to my lower back, my flanks, the backs of my thighs. I had no time to catch my breath before the next blow landed. It streaked pain across the other side and now both halves of me ached. A balanced blaze of pain that stole my breath.

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