by Carl Hamlin
Lindsay responded first with a deep sigh. “I can’t remember when I realized it. So it’s been with me for a long, long time. The funny thing is, I’ve never been spanked. I have no frame of reference for how it would feel. But, I just feel convinced I would like it. At least, I would like to try it.”
“But this thing about your mother. I don’t understand. Had you talked to her about it?”
Lindsay shook her head vigorously. “Oh, hell no. First of all, she never talked to us about sex, and most of all, she made it clear from comments that if it wasn’t something she was comfortable doing, it wasn’t sex at all.”
Gerald laughed uncomfortably. “Well, I don’t know if I’m prepared to get into an in-depth discussion of the sex life of my in-laws.”
“I know, and I didn’t mean for us to go there. But, I just can’t imagine my parents doing anything but the standard guy on top style. For all I know, they may have worn gloves.”
Gerald shook his head back and forth at his laughing wife. “I’m going to remember you said that. If for no other reason, you actually deserve a really good hard spanking for that wisecrack.”
Lindsay continued to laugh. “Mission accomplished. I have a good spanking coming from my hunk of a husband.”
Gerald narrowed his eyes and looked at her with a theatrically menacing glare. “I suppose I can force myself to do that. Not that I would find it enjoyable - or fun - or any kind of a turn on whatsoever.”
Lindsay seemed to be taken by surprise that he was obviously finding her request appealing. “Okay then. Some time. We can try that.”
This time it was Gerald who picked up a pillow and plopped it on to his wife’s face. “I think I may write this conversation into my next book.”
Lindsay giggled as she tossed the pillow aside. “Just don’t use any of our real names. By the way, since you finished a book in the middle the night, what are you up to next?”
Gerald rose up and rested on an elbow. “It involves a murder brought about by trafficking in steroids.”
Lindsay stretched and sat up and began to get out of bed. “So tell me, does anyone get spanked?”
Gerald got up and began to walk toward the closet. He stopped, turned and winked at his wife. “You do, Babe. At a time and place of my choosing.”
Through her shower and getting dressed, Lindsay was distracted by the relief she felt as a result of talking to Gerald about her desire to be spanked, along with the arousal she was feeling in knowing that at some unknown time and day, it was actually going to happen.
As he had promised, Gerald had prepared a wonderful brunch of French toast and bacon with a dish of mixed fruit. She had never admonished him to count calories when he cooked, insisting that she was responsible for herself. She tried to be good by eating the fruit first, cutting down on the amount of bread. In the back of her mind, she toyed with the idea of asking Gerald to spank her when she ate something that was not going to be helpful to her diet, then told herself that if he agreed, she may go out and buy a package of candy bars.
Gerald went off to his work nook in an upstairs bedroom to begin his latest novel, while Lindsay went to her own desk in the corner of the dining room to type up her final notes for her address to the Columbia students that was scheduled to take place late the following afternoon. As she walked to her desk and passed the large and heavy dining room table, she could not stop from imagining from past experience the delights she would experience on that table in the coming evening at the hands of her personal masseuse and husband. There had even been times when all the action had taken place on top of that table.
She sat down at her computer and forced herself to concentrate. Lindsay was finding it incredibly difficult to type up a summary of the relationship between the movements in the price of gold and silver bullion and the net asset value of domestic stock mutual funds. She wanted to close her eyes and remember how it felt when Gerald pressed his fingers into her muscles and soft flesh, then allowed them to roam and make mischief once the classical massage had been completed.
He often brought some little, unexpected twist to the act of massage. He may bring some scented oil, or even some that had been warmed before rubbing it into her soft skin. There had been times when she arrived at the prepared table to find a wedge pillow ready for her to lay over, always a sign that good times for soon-to-be upon her, let alone Gerald being upon her before the evening was over.
At the same time, her constant awareness of the extra pounds she was carrying made her cringe at being viewed in such positions, even though Gerald always complimented her on her body. She was always promising herself that she would come to appreciate her form that her husband found so endearing. When they had their bedroom conversation earlier that day, and she found the Gerald was agreeable to, if not eager about, spanking her, she had almost joked that he would need to set aside enough time to spank a bottom that was more than a tad plus sized. Once that thought had settled in for the afternoon, she wondered if she should ask Gerald to spank her when she was overly critical of herself. That was when she knew that her mind was operating on one track, and only one thing would alleviate that condition. She simply did not know when that condition would be treated. Still, the idea of approaching Gerald about spanking her to make her stop all those inwardly directed criticisms held a certain appeal to her. She resolved that she would indeed talk to him about it.
She struggled through the entire afternoon, taking several hours to accomplish what she typically would have in forty-five minutes. Just when she was closing her document, the aroma of steaks broiling in the oven wafted into the room. She checked her e-mail and printed out a contract for her to appear as requested on the business programming of one of the news networks over the following six months.
Just as she was getting up from her chair, Gerald appeared with plates and silverware. Lindsay took them from him and set the table while he disappeared once again through the doorway that led to the kitchen. She followed him into the kitchen, planted a kiss on his cheek, then picked up a salad and a dish of mixed vegetables and carried them to the large dining table. Gerald then brought the finishing touch, a bottle of red wine and two glasses.
They made small talk during the course of the meal, but Lindsay could not help but know that she would soon be the main course displayed on the same table. She asked Gerald some questions about the plot for his new book, smiling at his creativity as he went into more detail.
Gerald had made it clear earlier in the day that he was looking forward to treating Lindsay to his expertise on top of the table, so they began their little game. Lindsay acted as though she had no hint as to what was going to take place at evening. She simply stated that she was in the mood for a nice bubble bath.
On cue, Gerald told her that she should do just that, and leave it to him to see to the dishes and straightening up the table. Before she got up, Lindsay blew her husband a kiss, then kicked off her shoes and began to run her foot up and down his leg.
Lindsay walked to the bathroom that was rarely used except for such an occasion. It was right off the dining room, and she always kept a short, sheer wrap hanging on a peg on the inside of the bathroom door. In the medicine cabinet was the perfume that was Gerald’s favorite.
But the focal point of the bathroom was the large antique tub that stood on iron pedestals. They knew from experience that both could fit comfortably when they were so inclined. On this evening however, Lindsay would enjoy the lavender scented bubbles in seclusion, as she waited to be given “the works”.
The old tub was noisy as the stream of water from the antique brass faucet poured out. Nonetheless, as she shed her clothing, Lindsay was certain that on the other side of the door, Gerald was preparing to give her one of his unique treatments.
She slid into the soothing water and leaned her head back to relax. Just thinking of what Gerald was doing was always enough to heighten her arousal. This time, there was the added dimension of her memories of that morning conv
ersation. As was typical when she was feeling highly aroused, she hoped that when she emerged from the room, she would find the wedge pillow centered on the table. She knew that she could always ask Gerald to use it, but she always found it more of a rush to simply discover that it was there waiting for her to bend over it as she received her massage. Its presence always signaled that Gerald’s fingertips would be up to some extra activities.
As she lay still in the tub and enjoyed the combination of the stillness and the intensifying anticipation, she could hear Gerald’s footsteps twelve feet away as he prepared her fate for the evening. She found it almost unbearably exciting to know that her lover was out there doing everything he could think of to bring her enjoyment, relaxation and pleasure. Of course, before the evening was done, he would experience his own pleasure, and Gerald inevitably did so with gusto and enthusiasm. But he only did so when he was assured that he had done everything within his power to make the event pleasurable and entertaining for Lindsay.
They had done this many times, and while Gerald’s fingertips did most of the work, the icing on her cake was always his words. For while Gerald caressed and pressed upon her body, he also talked during the massage, talked in a way that tended to hint at his intentions, or tease Lindsay and push her anticipation to a higher level. In fact, there had been two occasions when she had been laying bent over the wedge pillow, and Gerald was talking to her while caressing her bottom, that she had nearly climaxed. The first time she experienced those sensations, she feared that to climax under the circumstances may be embarrassing. A few seconds later, she realized that probably nothing would turn Gerald on more than witnessing such a thing.
As she enjoyed the warm scented water, she heard the continuing movements, and smiled at her good fortune in finding such a man. She decided it was time to take him for his word, and accept that she was as sexy to him as he had always said she was.
She heard footsteps again, only this time they were going up the stairway. That meant that everything in the dining room had been prepared for her pleasuring to take place. Those footsteps meant that Gerald would soon be coming down the stairs clad only in his pajama bottoms.
She stood up and stepped out of the tub and patted herself dry with her beloved New York Jets towel. As she reached for the short white silky wrap hanging on the door, she heard footsteps once again, and knew that her creative lover was awaiting her.
She donned the wrap and loosely tied the cord in front. She took a deep breath, flipped the light off and opened the door.
There were still two hours of daylight, but Gerald had pulled the blinds and closed the room darkening curtains around the entire first floor of the house, leaving the room very dimly lit. Dimly lit, that was, except for the surprise assortment of small candles flickering throughout the room. As her eyes adjusted to the darkness, she came to realize why there was such a pleasant aroma in the room: there were rose petals on the floor leading her to that special table where special things happened, and more sprinkled around the top of the table. As her eyes continued to adjust, she saw Gerald next to the table awaiting her, and to her delight, she saw the wedge pillow in the center.
She approached the table that was covered with the usual cushion mat and white sheet beneath the wedge pillow. She gazed at Gerald with a wide smile as she stepped closer. Then she noticed that at the end of the table were her head usually rested, he had placed a wooden stool to the side, and set a glass of red wine upon it for her to enjoy during her receipt of “the works”. It was placed to be accessible with her right hand, while still allowing him to stand in front of her while massaging her and reaching most of her torso.
She stepped up to Gerald and kissed him, and then wrapped her arms around him. She looked up and whispered, “Wow? I don’t know what else to say except…. wow.”
Gerald leaned down and kissed her, then murmured, “Maybe if I do a good job, I’ll hear you say wow again.”
Lindsay stepped away, loosened the front of the short robe, shrugged and let it fall to the floor. “You just may…… you just may.”
Chapter 3
Gerald stepped away and Lindsay sat on the edge of the table then, turned over and placed herself as to lay down, but bent over the wedge pillow. She watched as Gerald disappeared for a moment in the kitchen, then saw him come back to the room carrying two small ceramic bowls. As soon as he approached, she could detect a stronger scent of roses, and knew that it was coming from the oil he had just brought.
Lindsay noticed that he was carrying one of the bowls with a potholder. “Okay, I have to ask. Why two bowls?”
Gerald looked at her with a grin. “One is hotter, so will have warm oil later on.”
Lindsay laughed. “You are something else. And I love it.”
He placed the first bowl of oil next to the wine glass on a small table, dipped the fingers of both hands and placed them on Lindsay’s shoulders. He began to work the warm oil into her skin, expertly pressing his fingertips into the muscles of her neck, her shoulders and her upper arms in a way that relaxed her in spite of her building anticipation.
Gerald had learned in short order that when Lindsay’s neck and shoulders relaxed, the rest of her relaxed more easily. Knowing that, he took his time while working on that region, getting her ready for more interesting touches.
She felt his fingers leave to once again have their tips dipped into the warm oil. Now he began working her upper back, occasionally allowing his fingertips to slide down the side of her ribs to where her breasts began to swell. He allowed them to engage in teasing, swirling and circular movements, but always returned them to her back, and then repeated the process.
The fingers left again, and Lindsay took a sip of her wine. Then the fingertips returned with another fresh coating of oil. This time, the fingers began pressing and probing on her lower back, descending just to where it divided at the uppermost part of her bottom. This is where he spent nearly as much time as he had around her neck and shoulders, for he knew that she loved to have her bottom caressed, and wanted her to be yearning for it. She was.
She felt his fingertips sliding up her back, up to her neck then they returned to the bowl of the still warm oil. Lindsay took another sip of the red wine. This time when the massage resumed, he bypassed that elevated and inviting bottom, walked to the side of the table and began to massage her calf muscles. There he stayed for several minutes, working and kneading the lower legs. That was when the talking began.
He walked back to the bowl, and this time when he returned he began to work his magic on the backs of her thighs. “Like this, Babe?”
Gerald saw his wife nod her head slowly and emitted a murmured, “Mmmmhmmm.” He continued to massage the thighs, and then slowly began to reach down and work his fingers on the insides of her upper legs. “And Babe. You know the best part is still to come, don’t you?”
Just hearing those words, Lindsay’s arousal began to mount. “Babe, I just love the sight of your bottom, especially all elevated like this.” Lindsay began to visibly squirm as his fingertips moved higher and higher to the tops of her thighs.
“I just love doing this, Babe. And you know why? I know that something is going to happen later, something that feels better than anything else I’ve ever known.”
He began to walk back to stand in front of her head, but along the way, he slowly ran the fingertips of his right hand up the crack of her bottom and ran both hands up her back and began to once again massage her neck and shoulders.
He began to once again move his hands down to her lower back, then leaned down and spoke to her in a quiet voice as he did so. “Funny thing, Babe, when I ran my fingers up through the middle of your bottom, you seemed to kind of squirm and wiggle. I think you kind of like it when I play with that part of your body.” He heard Lindsay giggle, and saw her elevated bottom began to move around.
He straightened up and once again dipped his fingers into the oil, then leaned forward over Lindsay’s head, and reached do
wn and began to massage her bottom with the oil. “Something tells me that you would like it, a lot, if I would work on this area for quite a while.”
Lindsay was nearly beside herself with desire as she lay there with her bottom elevated over the pillow, while Gerald’s fingers began a probing massage of her entire bottom. The oil seemed to make the entire experience even more erotic, and it would have been quite erotic regardless.
Gerald continued the intimate caresses of her bottom, listening as Lindsay moaned and watching while she squirmed. He began to allow his fingertips to roam, and his movements brought unintelligible but encouraging sounds from her lips.
As he continued to caress her bottom and glided his oiled fingertips around her entire midsection, he leaned down to speak to her in a near whisper. “I love it when I can let my hands go to work at all those soft, private places…… I love to see you move in response to what my favorite thing is to do, and listen to you moan and purr like a kitten. It tells me you like the way I’m touching you.”
Gerald could sense that Lindsay was on the edge. He slowly brought his hands up her back, then glided them down her sides and reached beneath her and began to caress her nipples. After just a few seconds of those movements, Lindsay moaned loudly as she began to squirm and Gerald watched in love and satisfaction as he saw her toes begin to curl. He reached back down and began to press her bottom cheeks together to enhance her spasms of climax as she pressed upward against his strong hands.
As her body finally went limp and the squirming and wiggling ceased, Lindsay giggled and exclaimed, “Wow.”
Gerald began to once again massage her shoulders and neck with the other bowl of warmer oil. “It was the least I could do, Babe.”
With her head resting sideways on her hands, Lindsay spoke in a sultry and teasing voice. “I guess it’s time we sneak into the bedroom so that you can have some fun.” She looked up at him and winked.