A Tail to Remember

A TAIL TO REMEMBER

"Spank my nasty butt," she said.

Please read the standard disclaimer on Alextasy's biography page.

- - -

"Susan. I've found another one."

My wife's head shot up, and she froze midway through zipping up her skirt. She stared at me, no doubt recognizing the subtle change in my voice, the gentle tone that belied an imminent threat. The telltale signs of her anxiety were almost instant--a reddening flush around her neck, a quickening in the rise and fall of her chest.

I displayed the evidence of her misdeed in my hand and shook my head. "I can't believe this. Another black sock mated with a dark blue sock. They aren't even the same style."

She stammered. "I... I don't know how that could be, Dave."

The wide-eyed, terrified look on her face concealed her growing anticipation. The brief flicker at the corner of her mouth hinted at her true desires.

Her half-hearted attempt at appeasing me was predictable. "I'm so sorry. Here, let me find you another pair."

She took a step toward the chest of drawers but recognized the effort as futile when I sat on the edge of the dresser stool, slipped off my tie, and beckoned with a finger.

"No... Please Dave. It won't happen again, I promise! We'll be late for the Robinson's, and you know how they feel about--"

When I raised a hand, she immediately silenced. She seemed already on the verge of tears. If I hadn't known better, I would've almost felt sorry for her. She was good at this.

"If we're late, then you can tell them why."

I gestured to her again. Head lowered, acting the role of the condemned, she trudged across the room to where I sat, and held out her wrists, insides pressed against each other. I wound the silk tie around them several times, tucked an end through the middle to secure it as usual, then eased her down to lie across my knees.

Lifting the back of her herringbone skirt, I rolled the sheer black pantyhose down to her knees, which served to lock them together. Shining up at me was one of my favorite sights--my wife's smooth, round butt. With the kid's activities and running around the house, it had been weeks since I'd last seen her like this. Tonight, we were alone. I sighed with satisfaction, my hand caressing the pale, soft globes, preparing to paint them a bright shade of pink.

Underneath my thighs, I sensed her bound arms stretching out, reaching to touch herself.

The introduction of this sort of play had rejuvenated our marriage. The first time I mentioned it to Susan, she was understandably reticent. I had concocted an elaborate story about overhearing a man and a woman talking about it at a restaurant. When I finally induced her to try, we started slowly with sharp slaps while we made love. She was surprised by how stimulating it was. She likened the arousing sensations to the appetizing burn of salsa. The cathartic effects played on her emotions, too. She didn't understand why it made her feel strangely safe and protected.

If I had ever told her the truth of my first such experience, she would surely have divorced me, then murdered me. Then she would have cut off my dick, for spite.

Or, she could have done something much worse.

- - -

Like many companies in the first few years after 9/11, my employers banned most air travel, both for security and cost reasons. I was forced to drive to my frequent out-of-town meetings.

At the same time, Susan and I were going through a rough patch in our marriage. We had hit the point where we'd lost touch. I was on the road a lot, and when I was home, we didn't talk like we once did. Sex had grown dull, predictable, and I think we both realized there was a good chance we might not last together. Neither of us knew what to do about it, however.

I had to cover an emergency client meeting in Massachusetts, a day and a half drive, one way. There hadn't been time to make detailed travel plans. I'd already been behind the wheel for nearly twelve hours when I discovered that decent lodging for business travelers in the hills of central Pennsylvania was hard to find. Around eight that evening, I spied a decent-looking, two-story motel stuck between a gas station and a combination restaurant and bar. There weren't but a couple of cars parked in front, but I was beat, and the idea of dinner, a drink, and a long night's sleep sounded mighty good.

After checking in and dropping my bags in my room, I strode to the restaurant next door. Like the hotel, it was nearly empty, just a guy behind the bar talking to his single customer, a well-dressed middle-aged lady. I took a stool at the far end of the bar.

The bartender, a tall, burly guy, was drying glasses and putting them away. His bald head and handlebar mustache gave him the look of a strong man at the circus.

"What'll ya' have?" He grumbled, as if he was ready to close down.

"Wine, house red will be fine. How about a burger?"

"Fries?"

"Sure. No onions."

The woman at the other end of the bar looked as though she was probably in her late 30s or early 40s. Her outfit made me think she might be a realtor--a pale yellow skirt suit with matching jacket, a low-cut, coral satin top, and short heels. Her slim crossed legs were attractive. I didn't think much more about it. I liked to look, but I'd never messed around.

She gave a big grin to the bartender as he headed to the kitchen. He flashed her a dirty look.

"I think you need to go home," he told her in a low tone that sounded almost threatening.

"Well, spank my nasty butt!" she exclaimed in a too-loud voice. "I've only had one drink, Phil. You're not cutting me off, are you?" She fluttered her lashes at him.

The bartender rolled his eyes, shook his head, and continued to the kitchen to make my sandwich.

Idly watching the TV behind the bar, I noticed from the corner of my eye that the woman was checking me out.

"Where ya' from?" she said.

"Missouri." To this day, I don't know why I lied.

"Well, spank my nasty butt!" she repeated, loud enough for the bartender to hear her in the kitchen. "I've got an uncle in Missouri." She grinned, big and friendly, and moved to the seat next to me.

She extended her hand. "Hi, I'm Alice."

Again, I lied. "Roger." We shook hands.

"Glad to meet you, Roger!" She had an overly enthusiastic lilt to her voice that added to the impression she was coming on to me, though I couldn't imagine why.

To be honest, I was flattered. And interested. Alice was an attractive woman. The faint whiff of her perfume was enticing. I checked her left hand--no gold band. My wife was nearly a thousand miles away. Here we were, in the middle of nowhere, I didn't know anybody, and nobody knew me. I couldn't recall the last time I'd been hit on by a woman--any woman. For the first time since I'd been married, genuine temptation was knocking.

I said, "Looks like your glass is almost empty. Let me fill it up for you."

"Well, spank my nasty butt." She said it again, this time quieter, more sultry, gazing into my eyes with unmistakable interest. "What a sweetie you are." She laid a hand on my upper thigh, cementing the deal.

"Oh, Phillip," she called enticingly to the barkeep, raising her glass so he could see it through the window. "This nice gentleman is buying me a drink." Something mysterious in her voice held the ring of hidden meaning, but I couldn't discern the significance. At that point, I didn't care.

We talked each other up while I ate my burger and enjoyed a couple of glasses of wine. Inhibitions lowered, we inched closer, speaking in lower tones. Fleeting touches became bolder, more suggestive.

Phil, the sourpuss bartender, was quiet in an almost menacing way. He seemed perennially gruff and was always looming somewhere nearby. I noticed that he shook his head a lot, sniffing contemptuously and rolling his eyes as Alice and I grew more friendly.

I paid our tab with my credit card. When Phil laid it back on the counter, Alice snatched it up.

Oh, jeez, my name!

"Well, 'Roger'." She exaggerated my pseudonym, glancing back at me. "I think it's time for me to go. Will you please walk me to my car, 'Roger'?" She handed my card over with a knowing grin.

I stood and offered my arm. She hooked hers through and we strolled to the parking lot. As we closed the door behind us, I heard a crashing sound from inside, like a glass shattering. I glanced back through the window to see Phil glaring at us.

I was too tipsy--and too horny--to care. Alice seemed to sway as we walked across the lot. She stumbled and I caught her. We ended up with our arms around each other, face-to-face, barely an inch separating our lips. Her stout breasts were mashed against my chest.

"My, Roger, I think I'm drunk. It's probably not safe for me to drive home. Are you by any chance staying at the hotel?" She gazed into my eyes, her voice the purest of innocence.

"Why yes, I am." I responded in a similar tone. "Would you like to, um, lie down for a while?"

She fluttered her eyelashes. Her reply was a sultry whisper.

"I think that's a good idea."

- - -

As soon as I let her in my room, Alice transformed into a different person. She marched across the room, surefooted, to set her purse on the desk, then slid her jacket off, tossed it across the chair, and unzipped her skirt. It glided over her wide hips, down her graceful legs and pooled around her feet.

The blood drained from my head and into my dick at the sight of the dark thicket on her panty-less crotch.

She picked her skirt up, brushed it off and laid it over her jacket, leaving her in her coral, satin blouse.

"Well, Roger. What are you waiting for?" She held her hands out, an invitation.

I swooped Alice into my arms and inhaled her luscious lips. It had been years since I'd kissed a woman like that. She was vibrant, her full, expressive mouth hungry for my tongue.

While her marvelous lips entertained mine, her hands went to work on my belt. In seconds, my pants dropped to the floor.

She followed them, working her way down my body with her lips and hands. Soon my shorts were around my ankles. She pushed me back to sit on the edge of the bed and wrapped her steamy mouth around the head of my dick, bobbing and slurping. Her fingertips caressed my nuts, and she sucked on each of them, then her animated mouth sloshed over my dick again.

It had been far too long since I enjoyed such an enthusiastic blowjob. My head fell back, and I quivered and moaned, clutching her hair, following her rhythms as she pleasured me. I desperately wanted to fuck her, but I couldn't bear the thought of leaving the tropical warmth of that perfect mouth.

She made the decision for me. Her hand continued to stroke me softly while she straddled my thighs and leaned forward to kiss me. My finger slid along her lower crevice, spreading her slickness and wiggling the tiny nub, which set her hips into motion.

In a sexy whisper, she breathed into my ear. "You know what I want."

Not trying to be coy--I really didn't know--I whispered back.

"Tell me, Alice. Tell me what you want."

I assumed she would want either my dick or my tongue. They were both hers for the asking.

Instead, she stared into my eyes and spoke in slow, measured syllables.

"Spank my nasty butt." She meant it.

That caught me off-guard. Since childhood I was taught never to hit a girl. I was conflicted, and worse, inexperienced. How was I supposed to know how to spank a grown woman? I needed some time to think. I'd run across hardcore porn sites--accidentally, of course--so I knew there were dozens of different ways, but I didn't have a clue where to begin.

"How do you want it?" I inquired in a soft tone, trying to sound confident, even a bit sinister. "With my hand? A belt? Or something... harder?"

She shivered as I listed the choices. She tugged my wrist from between her legs and licked my sticky, sap-covered fingers. Looking up at me with an almost prayerful expression, she kissed the center of my palm.

"We can start with this."

My dick twitched. Somehow, I had always hoped my secret research into alternative porn sites might come in handy someday.

"Leaning over a chair, on all fours, or across my lap?"

Her eyes glazed over, her lips turning up in a delighted smile as she considered the options.

"Mmm, you know what this girl likes." She sighed. "Take me across your knees?"

Her words triggered something deep in my male psyche. I was surprised by a sudden rush of arrogance that inflated my chest, as well as a gush of hot blood that swelled my lower regions. I felt as though I might pop.

Then sweet, kinky Alice upped the ante. "Do you have something you could use to tie my hands?"

Clasping my fingers onto her nape, I held it firm and pulled her to my mouth to kiss her, hard and fierce. When I bit gently onto her lower lip, the flicker of her passion burst into flame. A weak, whimpering moan arose from deep in her throat, breathing hot breath over my cheek. and her stout chest was heaving against mine.

Unfamiliar instincts were kicking in. As I felt her surrender, I discovered a confidence I hadn't felt in a long time. I grew more aggressive, as though I was feeding on her submission.

When I forced my hand between her legs, they parted. My finger probed her dewy pussy. She moaned again, more emphatically. With my grip on her neck, I yanked her head away, breaking our kiss. She watched hungrily as I licked her moisture from my fingers, then I pointed at the bed.

"Sit."

Obediently, she dropped her butt on the bed. Her eyes were bright with anticipation.

After kicking off my pants and underwear, I stared at her lush body as I unbuttoned my shirt. She gazed back at me excitedly and chewed on her nervous lip. Her knuckles were white where she clutched the fabric at the edge of the mattress. Lifting my tee over my head, I tossed it aside then retrieved my best silk tie from my luggage, a red, hand-painted one that belonged to my father.

When I returned, she held her hands out in front, palms facing each other. This was not Alice's first rodeo. I wrapped the tie twice around her wrists and tightened the loops to pull them together. Then it was once through the middle and around the center before tying it off to create an improvised shackle. Alice watched the preparations eagerly, anticipating what was sure to follow.

I was dizzy with my own exhilaration, the rush of being in control, the intoxicating power over this willing woman. I felt strong, potent, thrilled all over, and as rigid as I had ever been.

Holding her bound hands raised straight above her head, I reached underneath her satiny top to squeeze and fondle her lace-covered breasts. Her eyes softened, then closed. I pinched the tips through the bra, prompting more hushed, heated moans, and a softening of her eyes. Her mouth dropped open in a sensual pout.

My voice was calm yet firm. "You're a nasty girl, aren't you, Alice?"

She looked up at me, giving a shy nod.

"You have a nasty butt, don't you?"

Another nod, this time with wiggled brows and an expectant smile.

I pulled the sturdy wooden chair from under the room's desk and sat on the edge of the seat, patting my thighs. She came to me wearing a strangely timid manner. The restraints made it awkward, but with my help she settled across my legs, her head and tits dangling over one side, leaving her ass raised in perfect position for the arc of my right hand.

It was a gorgeous butt, two round globes, much bigger than my wife's heart shape, nearly flawless. Her pale, meaty buns stood proud. I stroked the contours and squeezed to test the consistency of each rump, finding them firm and bouncy. Delicious. My mouth watered. I wanted to bite them.

I raised my hand--she tensed.

"Are you ready?"

In that brief moment of hesitation while she was distracted, my hand came down with a resounding slap. She jumped with a squeak. My hand quickly rose for another.

"Alice." My voice was firm, a little annoyed. "I said, are you ready?"

This time she almost got the word "Yes" out before my hand landed on the other cheek. She squealed and lurched again.

Those first two were firm, but cautious. I wasn't sure how hard I should be. It didn't take long to get the impression from her responses that the technique was more like a speed bag than a punching bag--it wasn't how powerful I struck, but the precision and the tempo. My collegiate tennis experience came to mind. Follow-through was critical.

I kept up the questions. "Are you a nasty girl, Alice?"

"Yes!" Each of her answers was accompanied by another quick smack.

"What kind of girl are you?"

"A nasty... Ow!" she cried. "A nasty girl. I'm a nasty girl!"

I felt her arms pressing up against the bottom of my legs. I thought that maybe she was unsteady on my lap, perhaps about to fall off, until I realized that her thighs were bowed out, and her fingers were busy between them.

A loud 'whap' echoed from the walls when my hand came down again and she screeched.

"Is this what you want, Alice?"

"Yes, I..."

Whap!

"Ouch! Ohgod, yes! Yes, Roger! I want it, please. It hurts so--"

Whap!

She screeched.

Her voice grew louder and louder, higher in pitch as more palm prints blossomed on her rear. I was glad the hotel was practically empty--only one other car was left on the lot other than hers when we came up.

Whap!

"Fuck!" she squealed. "Goddammit! Harder!"

Whap! Whap! Whap! I smacked her glorious cheeks adding layers of ever-darker colors.

Amid sobbing and gurgling, she moaned, "Oh, God..." as her fingers twiddled her sex. I couldn't ignore the sympathetic ache for her in the pit of my stomach, but the erotic aroma of her aroused sex hit my nostrils and my dominant persona seemed to grow with each fierce strike.

"Alice, tell me how nasty you are."

Whap!

"Tell me!"

"Aaah! Fuck! Fuck! Fuck!" she yelled and sniffled. "I'm so nasty, I... I hate that I love the... the sting on my nasty butt!"

Whap!

"Ow! You sonofabitch."

"What's the matter, Alice? Do you want me to spank you easy, like this?" I patted her butt several times.

"No! Please, Roger! Burn my nasty butt up and--"

Whap! Whap! Whap!

"Ow! Fuck!" she yelled. "Yes! Yes, that's it."

Whap!

She screamed again. I prayed they couldn't hear her at the front desk.

"That's not very nasty, Alice. Give me something dirty."

Whap!

"Oh, God!" she sobbed. "I finger-fuck myself. That's what I do! I finger--"

Whap!

"Aah! Goddammit! I'm fucking myself while you beat my ass."

She pushed against the floor, rocking back and forth on my lap in time with the fingers on her clit.

"Aw, c'mon. What else you got?"

Whap!

"Motherfucker..."

Whap! Whap!

"Ow!" She screamed, "You asshole! When you're done, I'm... I'm gonna' fuck all the cum out of you!"

If I had been hard before. Now, I was solid granite. The dirty talk, the delirious sense of power, the scent of excited pussy, her jostling motions across my lap rubbing her satin blouse over the glans of my erect cock: I was ready to blow right then and there. I could hardly wait to screw her to the bed.

"Are you gonna' fuck me, Alice?"

"Yes!"

Whap!

"I'm gonna fuck you blind, David." She immediately realized her error. "Oh, shit! I mean Roger!"

Whap! Whap! Whap!

"What did you call me, Alice?'

"Aaah, fuck! Roger, I meant Roger! I--"

Whap!

"Ow! Goddammit!"

I paused a moment, lightly stroking the bright, smooth skin, my hand warmed by the rising heat. I bent closer to her, my voice lowered almost to a whisper. "But first, Alice, you've gotta' come for me. Are you ready to come, Alice?"

Her voice became weak, "Yes, oh, yes, oh..." Her arm jostled furiously, her body shaking uncontrollably.

"Come for me, Alice, come like a nasty girl. Do it."

Whap!

"Ow! Ohgod... Ohgod... Ohgod, yes, I'm... I'm..."

Squirming, bucking, gasping for breath, she screamed in divine agony then tensed all over, coming right there on my lap while I delivered a flurry of a half dozen more rapid smacks onto the scarlet and burgundy splotches of her bottom.

Before she could recover, I slid my arms underneath, lifted her off my lap, and rolled her onto her back on the bed. Her hair was wild and disheveled. Streaks of mascara-streaked tears lined her face. Red, puffy eyes offset a satisfied smile. She raised her bound arms above her head and spread her legs wide.

"My purse," she said breathlessly, nodding toward the desk. She sniffed. "Condoms."

She'd come prepared. At least a half dozen foil packs were in her purse.

I ripped one open and rolled it on. Then I crawled between her legs, pushed her knees back to her chest and drove myself home, one thrust, all the way in. Her restrained wrists stretched upward, toward the top of the bed, her body writhing seductively while I banged away at her juicy cunt. She purred and whimpered plaintively, pleading with me to fuck her, while her pelvis twisted and gyrated around my cock.

She screeched and cursed me when I reached back and smacked her red ass a couple more times. She begged me to do it again and fuck her harder.

After all the stimulation, I wasn't going to last long. My balls came to a quick boil, and I exploded, combining my roar with her screams. I dug my fingers into her thighs, slamming myself into her with each gratifying pulse of hot semen.

I collapsed on top of her. She raised her fettered arms over my head to encircle my neck. She kissed me with those succulent lips and wiggled her hips, sending ripples of pleasure through my tender, softening dick.

"You're a nasty, nasty boy, Roger," she whispered, still sniffling, her voice low and husky. "You're just rough enough. You've done this a lot, right?"

This time I didn't lie. "You're my first, Alice."

"God damn! A fucking natural! I haven't had my fanny tanned like that in... damn, I can't remember when." She sighed. "It feels so-o fucking good."

I freed her wrists, took her shirt and bra off and wallowed between those voluptuous breasts. She got me hard again with her mouth and made good on her promise to fuck me dry. Taking me on top, on her knees, standing, sitting--both backwards and forwards--on the bed, on the table, in the shower, against the window, we spent half the night filling a fair share of her condoms. I slapped her nasty butt at every opportunity. I even fucked her on the floor, adding a mild case of carpet burn to her tender ass. She screamed and cursed, and she fucking loved it.

We slept only a short while--I had forgotten to cancel the wake-up call. I had to hit the road, anyway. We showered together, then she got me to apply a medicated ointment from her purse to her bruised cheeks. I felt sick at what I'd done until she hugged me again and told me I was the best she'd had in a long time.

Wistfully, she asked at the door, "You coming back anytime soon?"

"Maybe on the return trip, in a day or two." I had already begun fantasizing about our next encounter.

She rubbed her butt gingerly. "I may still be a little tender for too much rough stuff." She winked. "Stop by, anyway, 'Roger'. I'd love having you again, any way I can." She left me with a scrumptious kiss that got me up. I couldn't remember the last time I'd been ready more than twice the same day.

- - -

I finished packing and dragged my bags into the hall, preparing to leave. At the same time, an elderly couple in their 70s, or maybe 80s, came out of the room next door. Jeez, over twenty rooms in this place, and they had to put the only two guests side by side.

The old couple saw me, and they both had big grins. The old man tipped his fedora, and the tiny woman turned toward the elevators, tittering.

We all got in the same elevator. I stood in the corner, blushing, while the two of them tried in vain to suppress their mirth.

The doors opened, and I let them out first. The old woman stopped just outside the elevator and beckoned to me, wiggling a gnarled finger. I thought she wanted to whisper something, but instead, she gave me a peck on the cheek.

"Thank you, young man," she said. She had a pleasant smile. "Last night you reminded us of the fun we used to have. It's kept us going for nigh on sixty years now. Thanks to you, Beaumont even gave me a few 'love pats' again." She rubbed her butt gently and winked, grinning. "Can't recall the last he did that." She pointed her finger at me and wagged it. "You thank the missus, too." Then she turned to join her husband. He tipped his hat to me again with a wink and a smile, and they toddled out of the hotel, arm in arm.

When I tried to check out, the manager said my bill had already been taken care of. I had no idea how that had happened, but I was too dazed to argue. I ambled over to the restaurant for breakfast.

Phil was there, taking care of four other customers. He came to my table and took my order in his typical surly manner.

When he brought my food, he said, "Helluva woman, isn't she?" His growl was a little lighter.

Uncomfortable with his manner, I acted as innocent as I could. "Alice? Yeah, she's a sweet girl."

He gave a sarcastic chuckle. "Sweet. Yeah, that's a good one. Spanked her, didn't ya'?"

"Yeah. How did you--"

"Fucked her good, too. She looked perkier this morning than I've seen her in a long time."

Concerned with his intimate knowledge and probing questions, I furrowed my brow. "What's it to you? She your sister? Your wife?" I asked in jest.

"My 'ex'," he said. "Alice is my ex-wife."

My eyes must have doubled in size. I gulped and held my breath. He was a big man who could've squashed me like a bug.

"Don't worry. You're not the first, ohh, no." He refilled my cup. "Every week or so she picks up a guy, some stranger, right in front of me. She usually gets him to spank her and then she screws his brains out."

"Why? Does she hate you that much?"

"A couple of years back, Alice and me, we went through some rough times," he said. "One night. I screwed one of the guests at the hotel, a lady just passing through, kinda' like you. Only once, that's all it took. Alice found out--they always do--and she got everything I had in the divorce. This restaurant, the hotel, the gas station, everything except a beat-up Chevy and my trailer out back." He gestured with his thumb.

I stammered. "I... I'm sorry. I didn't know. I wouldn't have..."

He almost smiled, "Not your fault. You didn't have a chance from the time you sat at the bar. I've seen her work with guys over a year now. She had you at 'Missouri'."

"Can't you just leave? Why put yourself through all this?" I was astonished at his tolerance.

He paused with a distant stare out the window.

"I love her. God help me, I still love her. I keep an eye out for her and make sure she doesn't get in the sack with any creeps." He looked back at me. "We have a deal. I work here for five years, stand by while she gets plugged by every swingin' dick who passes through, and I keep my mouth shut. I got two more years to go, and she promised she'll give half of all this back to me. I even hope, maybe someday, we can get together again. It'll never be the same, but..."

He seemed on the verge of tears. I was speechless.

Phil said, "I tell ya' 'Roger', or David, or whatever the hell your name is, if I could start over, I'd have done things a lot different, found some way to keep the zing in our marriage. I never had a clue she wanted her butt spanked. I've never done it to her. I wish I could, just once. I wish to God I'd spent more time trying to make her happy back then. Maybe I'd never have fooled around on her. I didn't realize how much I hurt her. When I did that, I hurt myself, too."

Susan's face popped into my mind. How upset she would be if she knew what I'd done. My stomach felt like it was tied in a granny knot.

After nibbling at an uneasy breakfast--I discovered I wasn't that hungry, after all--I stepped up to the cash register.

"Your money's no good here," Phil said. "Alice took care of it. You may as well fill up at the gas station, too. It's all free."

I was still curious. "Tell me, Phil, how did you know I wasn't a weirdo? What if I'd hurt her?"

"I can usually tell right off. I'm a bartender, right? Just in case, though, I hung around in the hall outside your room for a while last night. If I'd thought anything was wrong, I woulda busted in and beat the crap outa you."

That was the first time I had seen him grin.

Then he said. "Just do me one favor, willya', Roger?"

"Sure, Phil, what's that?

"Don't ever come back here again."

I left him a hundred and twelve dollar tip, all I had on me.

The rest of the road trip was consumed with images of that wild night of incredible sex with Alice, of Phil living there in purgatory, waiting in the hall night after night, listening to the woman he loves getting her big butt shined and her dreamy, wet pussy reamed.

Wedged in between those memories were flashes of my wife, my darling Susan's angelic face. How could I bring the magic back?

After my meeting, I took a different route home.

- - -

Susan ground her clit against my pubic bone as I breathlessly emptied the last few drops of semen deep inside her. In the tingling haze of euphoria, I gazed at her enchanting smile, her reddened, tear-stained eyes, and I fell in love all over again. It happened every time.

Yes, if Susan only knew how this had begun, she could have done much worse than killing me.

That was never going to happen. I made sure that was the only time, ever.

We joined in a warm, soulful kiss. I untied her hands and gently rubbed cream on her sore butt, then put my pants and tie back on while she cleaned herself up. I picked up her pantyhose and handed them to her.

"I can't wear those. They would hurt too much." She had a sly grin. "As a matter of fact, I won't be able to wear anything at all tonight."

My limp dick twitched.

I pulled her jacket onto her shoulders. As I closed the door behind us, I remembered something important.

"Susan, I hope you realize that somewhere else in my drawer is a blue sock mated with the other black sock. You know what will happen if I find them like that, right?"

"Oh, no! You're right, Dave. I will certainly have to take care of that. I'm sure I'll get to it in a day or two, if I don't forget. Sometimes, I can be so scatterbrained, you know."

She winked. I smacked her bottom, and she squealed, laughing and strutting to the car with a tempting weave in her hips.

I made a mental note to search for that blue sock, Even if I couldn't find it, I still had a list of fabricated reasons to send the kids out and remind my wife how much I loved her. I hadn't used the belt in a while.

Now, if only I could convince her to beg me, "Spank my nasty butt."