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As we pulled up to my house I enjoyed the fact that no bicycles were strewn on the driveway and no soccer goal stood on the lawn. Just my wife and I at home tonight, with no kids to interrupt and no reason to try and maintain any appearances. I had been looking forward to this for weeks. I got out of the car and turned to say goodnight to my neighbor from down the street.
“Thanks for the ride, Jim! My turn tomorrow…pick you up at seven?”
Jim nodded and I shut the door. We each considered it lucky to have someone from the same neighborhood working for the firm. Saved us a ton on gas, and traffic is a bit less irritating with someone to talk to on the ride. As Jim pulled away from the curb I turned towards the house.
My wife had warned me that with the kids off to summer camp she was going to try and get some painting done. I wondered how much she had finished as I turned my key in the lock and stepped inside.
The front hall was covered with a drop cloth. Abbie stood on the second step of a small foot ladder, roller in hand as she covered the white of the wall with the deep red she had chosen for the front entrance. She had a few drops of red on her shoulders and arms, as well as a pale yellow that let me know she had managed at least one coat on the kitchen. The paint struck a dramatic contrast against her tanned skin. She had chosen to protect her clothes, wearing only a bikini top and a pair of short shorts that she favored for working out at home. They were far too revealing for her to comfortably wear to the gym.
“Ryan! I didn’t hear the car. What do you think? See, I did the trim around the edges first and now I’ll use the roller for the big areas… and I finished the kitchen! Are you proud of me?”
As Abbie said this she put the roller back in the pan and picked up the brush she must have used on the trim. She wiggled it in front of her face like a fan, hiding her hazel eyes and laughing smile. It was cute, but that wasn’t what made me smile. The streak of red paint in the front of her wavy brown hair did that. Abbie had a habit of brushing her hair away from her face. At least once today, she had done it with red-dipped brush in hand.
I set my briefcase by the door and dropped my keys in the dish we kept on a little table for that purpose. I walked into the hall and looked at the area she had already painted, careful to avoid the open cans of red and yellow paint at my feet.
“It looks great. I was skeptical when you chose this color, but I have to say you were right. I think it will look wonderful.”
Abbie beamed at my words and stepped off the short ladder. “See baby, I told you to trust me. I know what I’m doing.” She leaned in to give me a proper homecoming hug.
I caught her wrist, stopping her a step away, then leaned in to give her a kiss that she eagerly returned. But when she tried to hug me, I held her at the distance.
“Hey! What’s the big idea, Mr. Man?” Annoyance crept into her voice.
I pulled her wrist up to show Abbie the brush full of red acrylic in her hand, the brush she had never put back down.
“This is the big idea, baby. No offense, my love, but this is an $800.00 suit, and red polka dots are not part of the design. Have you seen your hair?”
“No. Unlike some people, I’ve been working, not sitting in an office pushing papers. And it was hot today, too!” Rather than admit my point, Abbie’s voice still held the note of accusation it had adopted when I refused the first hug.
“Still is from where I’m standing…” As I said it I pushed her to arms length and admired the smooth curves the bikini revealed.
Abbie tried to hide the smile, but it snuck its way in from the corners of her mouth to steal across her face. “Chauvinist! Still, perhaps you can be forgiven …”
“Forgiven? For what? Because I don’t want a good suit to look like an Andy Warhol original?”
“For thinking the suit was more important then my hugs. I’m worth so much more than $800.00.”
“Are we talking hourly rate here?”
“Gawd! You bastard, I can’t believe you said that. You son of a bitch! I’ll get you for that, Rudolph.”
“Rudolph? Where the fuck did you pull the name Rudolph from?”
“From this!” Her brush darted out and left a trail of red paint down my nose before she backed away, laughing at her joke.
“Damn it, Abbie! You really are gonna get paint on me, I swear.” I pulled my coat off and examined it carefully. Luckily, the brush had not dripped. I turned and went through the archway into the dining room, where I laid my suit jacket safely over the back of a chair. “That wasn’t funny Abbie; you really could have ruined my suit, you know.”
I stalked back into the hall. Abbie had her back to me again and was painting an edge near the bottom of the stairs. Her ass stuck up in the air, encased in those tight shorts. The sight stopped me cold. Hearing my footsteps halt, she wiggled enticingly.
“Damn, you got an attitude on you today, pendik escort girl!”
“Oh yeah? Well, I’ll tell you what you can do about it.”
Abbie stood and turned around. She didn’t say anything; just let the hand that was holding the brush run a line down from the words she had painted on her stomach. It made a red arrow pointing to her crotch. The hastily scrawled words “Eat me” crossed her abs where the brush had begun its short, enticing journey.
I walked over, took her hands in mine and leaned in to kiss her again, moving a hand to catch her chin and tilt her face up to gaze into my eyes. She looked at me defiantly for a moment, then closed her eyes. I closed mine also and leaned in to meet her lips with mine. Just as our lips touched she gave a sudden squeal and jumped into my arms. I caught her unconsciously, feeling her heels dig into my calves, the hard points of her nipples smashed against my chest as her body flattened against mine. Her body flattened….damn!
“Abbie, I fucking swear I love you, but still.” I pulled her back to arms length and settled her feet beneath her.
“What? Oh come on, I held the brush way out to the side. There’s no way it could get you.”
“The brush didn’t get me. You did.” I looked down at the red line running straight down my tie and the reversed letters of ‘Eat Me’ printed across my abs. I stared at them for a second, then made eye contact with her and slowly said, “Put the brush down. Now.”
Abbie leaned over and put it down on top of the drop cloth, by the open can. As soon as it was clear, I snatched her into my arms and threw her across my shoulder. She screamed out, pleasantly surprised by my actions. I took the stairs quickly, two at a time, despite having her thrown over my shoulder. I turned down the hall into our room and then literally threw her to the bed. She laughed at my enthusiasm as she slid her knees beneath her and sat on her heels on top of the comforter.
I walked over and stood above her, drinking in the sight before reaching down behind her neck. She smiled and moved her head to one side to I pulled at the light blue string and watched the knot unravel; the flowered light blue fabric stayed up briefly and then gravity began its work. As the top fell away, I drank in the sight of her pink nipples topping her lean breasts, until I was jarred from my fantasy world by the apprehensive gasp that emerged from her.
“What? What’s wrong?”
“I’m sorry honey… your slacks. I didn’t mean to…” Her hand flew to cover her mouth. I followed her gaze to look past my already smeared shirt and tie to the dark wool below.
The red had indeed migrated down, but it wasn’t as bad as the shirt. I was sure they could be saved. The shirt and tie? I glanced from the smears of red paint on the silk of the tie to the now smeared words on her belly and realized that this wasn’t her fault, but mine. I knew better. But the way she was looking at me, like a rebellious teenage girl caught with a pair of scissors and her new blue jeans, gave me an idea. The shirt and tie were already ruined. I intended to use that to my advantage.
I reached up to loosen the tie and pulled it down in a swift sure motion to hang loose in my hand.
“I’m afraid you’re going to have to be punished for that, you naughty thing.”
“Punished? What do you think you’re…” She gave a screech as I reached forward and calmly flipped her onto her stomach. I caught both her arms and pulled them behind her back, then wrapped the tie around her wrists and tightened a knot while she giggled and struggled half-heartedly.
“Honey, I don’t have time for this…I have a hallway to finish and…Owwww!”
The first slap on her ass came as a surprise, although it shouldn’t have. I’ve long since caught on to how she reacts to a spanking when in the right mood. I avoid playing that card too often. I don’t want it to lose its novel impact. When she looked up at me with that wicked gleam in her eye, nipples hard and the bikini top dangling beneath her breasts, I knew I had been right to play my trump.
I smacked her ass again. This time her reaction was more of a moan then a scream, even though the blow was harder. I let my hand rest for a moment where it had struck, then finger-walked up her back to the knot that was keeping the string bikini top dangling and untied it. Leaning over, I kissed my way up her spine, moved her soft brown hair out of the way and bit the back of her neck.
This provoked another moan, longer and lower in pitch, drawn out until it faded into silence. I let my hands travel down the sides of her body and scooted her so that she was lying face up on the bed, her knees bent over the edge, toes on the floor. Then I reached for her little shorts. I took the sides in hand and wiggled them off her hips; down the long tight legs that showed the dedication to her daily workout regimen. Abbie looked up at me, wearing a slightly puzzled expression.
“I escort pendik thought the naughty girl was going to get a spanking?” Abbie said to me with a tone that was equal parts arousal and apprehension.
“She is,” I said softly, “But not when she’s expecting it. That kind of ruins the point.”
“No it doesn’t,” she replied to me. The mischievous look was back in full force now. “Of course, if you’re not man enough to give me one, there’s always the hallway to finish painting. Just get out of my way and…”
I didn’t let her finish the thought. Instead, I grabbed the shorts that were resting around her ankles and twisted them so I could hold her legs trapped with a single hand. Then I lifted up. As her ass came off the bedspread I gave it a far harder slap then the ones I had playfully administered before, hard enough that the imprint of my hand clearly stood out in red on the pale white of her cheek.
Abbie gasped loudly at the force of it. There was something more then pain in the tone of the gasp. I smacked her again and again I heard the small moan at the end of the sharp intake of breath. I quickly delivered a series of sharp blows. After the first couple, she quit even the token struggle she had been putting up and let her head fall back against the bed, giving herself to the sensation of my bare hand striking the soft flesh of her ass.
After a dozen or so blows I calmly brought her legs back down and slipped the shorts off. I went to my knees on the carpet and pulled her towards the edge of the bed. As I spread her legs gently, she began to struggle again. And whine. “No, I want you be aggressive. Play mean for me, you bastard! Take me and make me do what you want!”
“What I want is to lick that little cunt, so quit wiggling damn it!” As I said it I did something quite without thinking, something I had never done before. It was automatic, a carryover from the playfulness of the last few minutes. It was only as I saw my hand come down that I realized what I was doing, with no way to stop myself in time and no clue how she would react.
My open palm smacked down on her pussy with a loud slap and I braced myself for the shock and anger at my unthinking abuse of such a sensitive area. The reaction I received was quite different then expected.
Abbie’s back arched and her hips thrust upwards as the sting of my blow radiated outward from the point of impact. A moment later a low, guttural moan followed, emerging from a previously unknown depth in her libido. Encouraged, I pushed her thighs farther apart and followed up with another loud smack on her pussy.
Abbie kicked slightly but made no attempt to protest or close her legs. Again, I let my hand fall harshly on that most delicate of spots. This time I followed the blow face-first, sucking her flushed lips into my mouth and letting my tongue dart out to run up the wetness of her slit. The reaction was intense to say the least.
Her voice exploded out in an exuberant cry of pleasure, nearly a scream. She didn’t try to pull away from me; her hips left the bed and she tried to grind her pussy into my face. Teasingly, I kept my distance constant. I licked lightly around her lips and flicked the tip of my tongue across the hood that covered her clit, deliberately missing it by the narrowest of margins. My wife refilled her lungs with a sharp hiss that shook her shoulders.
Her pussy was saturated. The surprise spanking had obviously not been unwelcome. I lifted my head and smiled as I let my open hand fall again, the resulting smack louder and wetter. Abbie groaned as I leaned in and took the outer lips of her cunt between my teeth. They were full and moist. The juices of her arousal flooded her pussy as I suckled.
I increased the power of my suction, pulling her lips away from her body, acting as though I could suck them dry. I knew I couldn’t, but the effect the attempt was having on Abbie more than motivated me to continue. Again I pulled my face away from her. Her hips rose again as she tried to follow me, her hands still bound behind her in my silk tie.
I knew what she wanted, but I was nervous. Part of me was afraid that she would be angry with me later, that a woman who was so fiercely motivated about woman’s rights and spousal abuse would find what I was about to do abhorrent. The other part of me remembered times I had spanked her in the past, the way she teased me about how I didn’t hit hard enough. I wanted to ask her if this was really what she wanted. I wanted to make it safe for myself. I glanced up and looked at her face. Her eyes met mine, and I saw no regret there. There was a sparkle and a daring gleam, but no fear.
I slapped down on her cunt again. She was so wet that the smack of the impact filled the room with it’s sound. Abbie’s eyelids fluttered and her eyes rolled back. I spanked her again; three, four times in rapid succession. The only sound she made was a soft gasp. I leaned forward and sucked her clit into my mouth pendik escort bayan and her legs shot out beside me. I sucked as hard as I could and was rewarded by a sharply bitten off cry.
“Oh fuck! Oh my fucking god!”
I continued to pull at her cunt with the power of my throat, sucking her clit so hard I feared it would bruise her. A hickey in a place I had never given one. I let my hands travel under her ass, and I found her fingers there, reaching towards me from their bound position. I took her hands in mine and pulled as I sucked her pussy as hard as possible. The muscles in her legs began to quiver and her fingers curled in mine. I heard the deep-throated and yet high-pitched cry of her approaching orgasm and I feared to relent, not wanting to let it escape unrealized.
Then her hips were bucking and her thighs clamped down on my ears and I knew that she was already coming. I continued my attack through the first waves and then released her little knob, circling it with my tongue and running down through the wet folds to taste her before I stood. As she lay before me I slowly began to unbutton my shirt.
I peeled the shirt off and threw it on top of her panting, naked form. Her eyes fluttered and opened as it landed lightly on her belly. She looked up at me as I pulled my undershirt over my head, smiling as I balled it up and tossed it across the room.
I leaned over her and rubbed at the wet paint with the good linen of my ruined shirt. “Something funny, naughty girl?” I got much of it off, but only a good scrub in the shower was going to really get her clean, and I had no intention of delaying my pleasure that long.
I rolled sideways to sit next to her on the bed, reaching down to slip my shoes off and toss them towards the closet. My socks followed in flight. Abbie turned her head to watch them as they flew. Standing again, I slid the good wool of the slacks down and calmly walked them over to the closet.
I ached to touch her, but I also knew that the longer I denied her my attention the more she would desire it and the more turned on she would be. So I forced myself to proceed calmly. On the bed, Abbie was once more testing her bonds, glaring at me the whole time with something between amusement and a feral hunger. She wouldn’t get out of that tie until I helped her. Something I wasn’t ready to do just yet.
I pulled a suit hanger out and calmly hung the slacks on it, then put them up sideways so that the paint that was there wouldn’t smear any of the other clothes. As I did it, I caught site of a box on the shelf…a box I hadn’t opened in quite some time, maybe as long as six months. We didn’t play together with these anymore, not since the boys were much younger and less curious. Less likely to investigate a buzzing sound in the night. I smiled as another plan formulated in my mind. I turned around and smiled at Abbie.
“Oh, no. Bill, what are you thinking? You’ve got a grin bigger than Jack Nicholson at Sunglass Hut.”
I walked over to the open bathroom door and glanced inside. Yes, right where they had been left that morning. I scooped up the nail clippers and walked back to stand over my wife. Picking up the ruined shirt that still lay across her, I clipped a small cut in each shoulder. I worked my fingers into the fabric and ripped down, easily tearing the linen.
“You’ll see.” I repeated the process with the other sleeve. As Abbie stared up at me, I covered her eyes with one of them.
“Or perhaps I should say that you won’t see.” I stretched the sleeve as hard as I could. It just barely stretched enough to be tied behind her head.
“That’s not enough. I can still see where you are, just from the shadows.”
Despite her bravado, I knew the most she could see through the heavy cotton linen was an indistinct form. Even that would have to be backlit for her to make any sense of the movement she could see. I went back to the closet to pull our old toy box off the shelf.
But when I lifted the lid, I was the one in for the surprise. Yes, our old things were there: a simple vibrator, the Kama Sutra products from Spencer’s. But nestled in with them were a purple butt plug and an almost full bottle of Astroglide. I lifted the purple plug. It had a little bit of give to it, a softness around the translucent core. I grabbed the lube as well and walked back to the side of the bed. Abbie had worked herself back into a sitting position. I ran the tip of the toy across her cheek and was rewarded with a knowing gasp. Not that I didn’t expect her to recognize the feel of it.
“Somebody’s been playing with new toys while I’m at work.”
“Yes.” Her voice was soft, almost whispered. She sounded embarrassed and more than a little apprehensive. It wasn’t the playthings in general that had her feeling this way. After all, she had called me at the office more than once when the boys were safely in school, teasing me by letting me hear as she fucked herself. It was this one toy in particular that was making her self-conscious.
“When did you buy this?”
“I ordered it online a few weeks ago.”
“Have you used it yet?”
She went bright red in the face. “Yes. A few times.”
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