by Sean Geist
“Maybe a little spanking is in order.” I said.
“Have I been naughty?” Robin had bowed her head but her eyes were staring up at me. My cock was rigid. She looked innocent and demure, despite being naked.
“Yes. You have been.” I snapped the belt again. I tossed it to the bed and it landed a couple of inches to my wife's left. I unzipped my pants and let them fall to the floor, bunched at my feet. I stepped out of them, toward my wife. My cock straining against the blue Jockey boxer briefs I wore.
I stood before Robin, who was now sitting up on the edge of the bed. Only a thin layer of cloth and a couple of inches of space separated me from my wife's warm inviting mouth. She licked her lips and my penis twitched.
“May I?” she said, her eyes darting down toward my groin and back up.
“I insist,” I said.
Robin reached out and freed me. She took a finger and dipped it in the drop of pre-cum forming on the tip of my erection. She reached down to her pussy and smeared it against her lips, mixing our juices.
My turgid penis bobbed between us. My wife began stroking it with her left hand while pleasuring herself with her right. I watched as her small hand ran the length of my shaft. It felt so nice, the long slow strokes, especially when her wedding ring bumped against the sensitive rim around the tip. I could feel my climax build.
I looked into my wife's face, her gaze held mine. Her eyes were open wide, burning with an intensity I'd never witnessed before. Deep within my core, the pleasure collected, building tension. I tried my best to hold back, to make it last. I watched as Robin's eye's closed and her head tipped back. Her lips parted and a low moan issued forth.
“I'm close,” I said, wanting to warn my wife.
“I know.” Robin's voice was little more than a hoarse whisper. “I can feel your cock growing. I want to feel it pulse in my hand. Let it come.”
I had never released on my wife's face, I'd never think of asking. It felt too degrading. But how could I turn her down? I threw my head back and grunted. Semen spurted in long ropes. The first shot landed on Robin's chin. A second hit her breast. My wife cried out as her own wave of pleasure crested. My third and fourth spurts landed on her tongue. A few more weak pulses dribbled down her hand.
I was spent. I fell forward onto Robin, forcing her back. We kissed, hard, our tongues swirled. I could taste myself, salty and tacky. We devoured my cum, together.
My wife and I rolled around on the bed, kissing and groping. I grew hard again and Robin mounted me. It felt like home. My hands grasping her perfect ass, my cock enveloped in her hot pussy. I held her close for a moment. My erection twitching, buried deep within her womb. Robin giggled.
“That tickle?” I asked. My lips were mere inches from her ear.
“A little. In a good way.”
Robin began to slowly grind her hips against me. Her clitoris rubbed my pelvic bone. I laid there and enjoyed my wife's ride.
“God, that feels so good,” she whispered to me. “I love the feel of you. Your arms. Your hair. Your cock.”
“Better than Scott?” I asked, like an idiot.
I expected her to freeze up and snap at me. I didn't expect her to say what she did.
“Yes,” she sighed.
My cock pulsed again.
“Oh,” she said.
We held each other tight. Robin continued to grind. Her sighs building in depth and volume.
“Oh, Peter. Oh. OH!”
Several oh's later I felt the wall's of Robin's pussy constrict around me. She let out a final wail as she came. I hoped the neighbors weren't home. They might think she was dying.
As Robin's climax faded, my own was building. I flipped her over without withdrawing and started thrusting.
The room reeked of sex. The intoxicating aroma of fluids – semen, sweat and vaginal emissions, filled my nose. The sounds of our mating – the slap of wet flesh against wet flesh – drove me on.
When I couldn't hold out any longer, I came, filling my wife with my seed. I felt Robin experience another orgasm – a lesser one – as I came.
We held each other tight.
“I love you, Peter,” Robin said, her voice dry and low.
I had just enough energy to reply back, “I know,” before I fell asleep.
We would wake up, crusty and stinky but I could not have cared less at the moment. I had my wife back. That's all that mattered.
We could burn the sheets later.
Chapter 8
Peter
My life returned to the new normal. The following Monday I went back to my job in Phoenix, living alone, occasionally stopping by the Oasis to see my favorite red-head bartender. We flirted a lot, but didn't go on any more dates. She said she was seeing a guy who worked at one of Scottsdale's fancy Country Clubs; I think is was called Windwalker Ranch. I never met the guy.
Although I believed I could keep 'dating' other women, since Robin and I hadn't finalized any changes in our relationship status, I didn't really feel like it. I didn't think about her fucking Scott. I was too busy with the clinic expansion and his name never came up when I visited my wife on the weekends.
Robin would work a couple hours on Saturday and take Sunday off, so we had a day and a half to spend together. The long distance marriage wasn't ideal, but it worked for us.
On Christmas Eve, I got a surprise. I had finished a six-hour shift in our emergency care clinic and I was looking forward to a nice quiet night at home, then an early morning drive up north to spend the holiday with Robin. I was surprised to find a bright yellow Mazda Miata two-seat convertible parked in my driveway. The top was down.
I had never seen the car before and didn't know who it could belong to. All I did know was that no one was in the car and no one was knocking at my door.
When I got inside, all my questions were answered.
“Robin?” I said, my voice a bit dry with surprise.
My wife was laying stretched out on the couch reading the newest Falcon Tempest novel, a half-full glass of wine on the end table next to her.
“Peter?” she said. Her voice mocking my surprise.
“Wasn't expecting you here. I thought we were spending Christmas at your place?”
“Peter, it's our place.”
“I know, you keep saying that. I just don't feel it.” I really didn't want to get into an argument over our living arrangement so I walked over and gave Robin a kiss on the forehead.
“Never the less,” I said, “it's great to see you here.”
I went into the kitchen to pour myself a glass of wine and almost bumped into my wife when I turned around.
“You don't get off that easily, mister,” she said. Robin took the glass out of my hand and set it down on the counter. She wrapped her arms around me for a big hug and a real kiss on the lips, with lots of tongue and squishing sounds.
I approved and my penis started to respond, as it often did when I kissed her.
“Merry Christmas, dear,” my wife whispered into my ear.
“Best. Gift. Ever.”
We took our wine and ourselves to the bedroom and made love. It was a simple and gentle affair. We undressed each other; our bodies were our gifts. We rolled around on the bed, kissing and exploring. I made my way between her thighs and feasted on her dew. She was tangy and salty and oh so delicious.
After she came, I worked my way back up her body, nibbling on her nipples and up to her neck. As I bit softly at her ear lobe, I slid my erection between her open labia and into her warm pussy. She was silky and inviting. I slowly stroked in and out. Several moans issued from Robin's lips.
“Peter, you're so good at this.”
“I know.” I wished I really had that much confidence. “Nothing pleases me more than pleasing you.” It was a corny line and I was sure Robin would have laughed if she wasn't half way to another orgasm.
“Oh, God. Peter!” I felt her vaginal walls clamp down around my shaft and that sent me over the edge. My cock pulsed
as I shot several blasts of semen into my wife.
We were both sated.
After a short rest, I got up to fix us a light dinner of Italian salad with strips of ham and salami. We ate in bed and watched a little TV, then took a quick nap. We woke up around eleven and got ready for midnight mass. After church, it was back to bed where we both fell into a deep and restful sleep. Everything seemed to be settling into place. Our lives, while far from conventional, were coming into balance.
“Wake up, sleepy head!” I felt a pressure on my shoulder. It was Robin.
“What time is it?” I said, swatting her hand away.
“Six o'clock.”
“In the morning?” My voice was sluggish. We had about four hours of sleep.
“Yes. In the morning. Come on, it's time to open presents!” She sounded as eager as a little girl expecting a pony under the tree.
“Ugh.” I always thought getting up early for Christmas was for parents with eager kids. “Can't it wait?” I turned my back to Robin and covered my head with a pillow.
“No!” Robin punctuated her answer by pulling the covers and pillow off me. I lay there, curled up in a fetal position, my naked body tense in the cool dry air.
“Robin. Please.” I wanted to cry like a little boy, but I didn't.
“No,” she said again. This time she was walking away. “I'm going to go make you some coffee. Be in the living room when it's done.”
I slowly drug my tired body up and into the bathroom, where I splashed some cold water on my face. I threw on a pair of pajama pants and sloughed into the living room, like the walking dead. Robin was waiting there with a steaming cup of coffee. There were also two packages sitting on the table that weren't there last night.
“Robin, you shouldn't have.” I said, taking the coffee.
“Not get you a gift?” she said. “Don't be silly.”
“You got me two.”
“One's kinda for both of us.”
“Seems fair,” I said. “I only got you one.” I went back to our bedroom and retrieved the small box I had tucked in my underwear drawer.
“For the number one woman in my life,” I said as I handed it to her.
Robin looked at me from her perch on the couch and raised an eyebrow. “Number one woman, huh?”
I smiled.
“Whad'ya get your number two girl?”
My smile turned into a snicker and I shrugged my shoulders. Robin punched me in the knee.
“Sit down, mister,” she said and patted the seat next to her. “Time to see what Santa brought you.”
I complied. “Whose first?” I asked.
“You are, since you have two gifts to open.”
I reached for the largest package. It was a square box, about large enough to hold a soccer ball. Despite its size, it felt surprisingly light. Before I could rip off the winter wonderland wrapping paper, Robin pulled the package out of my hands.
“Open the other one first.”
“Fine.” I picked up the small box. It had the same wrapping paper, with snow-covered pine trees and holly leaves and comfy cottages with warm bright candles in the windows. Only, it was smaller.
Inside was a neon orange golf ball with my name and the date embossed on one side and Merry Christmas on the other.
“I was wondering if you'd keep the tradition,” I said.
Every year since we got married, Robin had given me a different colored golf ball, to commemorate our second date, the putt-putt golf outing. It was a special date for her. It was when she decided I was different than all the other guys she'd dated. Her habit of giving sappy gifts was one of Robin's many idiosyncrasies. It's why I love her so much. This ball would soon be joining the purple and light blue ones I had displayed on my desk at the clinic.
“Guess, I'll need to build a little display case for these,” I said. “Unless, that's what's in the other box.”
“Not tellin',” Robin said. She started opening her gift. She fussed with the glittery silver wrapping paper that had been professionally applied at the store. My hands were steady as a rock when I was snipping a tomcat's testicles, but when it came to wrapping paper I was all over the place.
For some reason, Robin always liked saving the paper to re-use, so it took her a bit longer to open her present. Her eyes bulged when she saw the jewelry box. She looked at me.
“Peter?”
“Just open it.”
Inside was a small ruby, her birthstone, on a thin gold chain.
“It's beautiful.” And it was, but it was also small. I make a decent living as a veterinarian, but that little rock was expensive.
I took the necklace and put it around Robin's neck.
“How's it look?” my wife asked as I stepped back. The little stone sparkled against her pink skin. My eyes were drawn from the ruby down to her modest breasts. Robin was wearing one of my button down shirts, and she hadn't bothered to fasten any of the buttons. I found it difficult to avoid looking when her movements exposed a nipple.
“Exquisite,” I said. “and the necklace is nice, too.”
Robin smiled and shook her head. “Funny. Now open your last gift.”
“So, this one is for the both of us?”
“Maybe. Kinda,” my wife said.
The box was larger, but light weight. It was also very well wrapped, with lots of ribbon and tape. I didn't care about the paper, so I just tore into it, stretching the ribbon til it snapped and tearing the paper wherever I could work my fingernail in. Under the wrapping paper was a plain brown cardboard box, well secured with packing tape.
“Something special in here, I guess.”
Robin looked on, smiling and I went back to work. After I got enough tape off to open the top I was greeted with a box full of styrofoam packing peanuts. I mean the box was empty except for the peanuts.
“Honey, It's what I always wanted.” My voice was playfully sarcastic.
“Funny. Keep looking.”
I dug through the white pellets and, on the bottom of the box, I found a small envelope. Inside was a note card. On it was a picture of a grey kitten, its eyes pleading for affection. In bold black printing, the card read 'Merry Christmas. This card grants the bearer, one full-body massage from Robin Wilkenson.' The words 'complete with a happy ending' were added in pencil.
“I'll get good use out of this one,” I said.
“Save it for a special occasion. It's a one time offer.”
“Really?” I said.
“Well, I can't refuse it.”
So many possibilities ran through my head.
Overall it was a fun morning. And no mention of Scott. Life was getting good.
After we cleaned up our mess. I made us breakfast – scrambled eggs and bacon – and we sat around watching streaming movies all day. We made love twice that evening and again the following morning, before Robin headed off to work the evening shift at the spa.
“So, you gonna tell me about the car?” I said.
Robin buckled in to her yellow Miata. It still had a new car smell despite having the top down. My wife looked like she belonged behind the wheel. She chose well.
“Bought it last weekend,” she said. She patted the empty seat next to her. “You want to come with?”
“Tempting,” I said. “But I have a rabies shot clinic this afternoon. And all those puppies and kittens Santa left under the Christmas tree need check-ups. I'll be busy this week.”
“You are coming for the party, right?” Robin looked a little concerned. She was having a New Year's Eve party for her employees and their partners.
“Don't worry. I won't miss it. Even if another crazy cat lady passes away.”
“Better not.” Robin looked behind her and started backing down the driveway.
“Love you.” I called out.
“I know.” she called back as she drove away. I watched as her brown hair took on a chestnut hue as the wind whipped it around in the early morning sunlight.
Our Christmas h
ad been merry, made more so by the fact we hadn't been spending all that much time together. Robin and I were finally reconnecting.
It wasn't until I was in the shower that I realized we still hadn't settled our relationship issues. Namely, Robin's affections for Scott. Was she still planning to see him? To sleep with him?
These thoughts concerned me. I imagined Robin and her lover locked in a naked embrace and felt a deep pit open in my chest. At the same time my cock got hard and I found myself instinctively stroking it. Luckily I was lathered up with soap. When I realized what I was doing, I stop.
At work, barking dogs and ornery kittens monopolized my attention, but I did decide that Robin and I were going to resolve or relationship before the first day of the New Year was over.
We were close.
***
I didn't have much contact with Robin the week between Christmas and the party. I called her the next day and she told me she didn't have time to talk. I found that odd but not too unbelievable, after all, she was running a complicated business.
“I'll keep this quick,” I said on the phone. “Do you need me to bring anything to the party?”
“Just yourself, sweetie,” Robin said. “And maybe some swimwear. We're opening up the facilities for the party.”
I couldn't help but ask, “Is Scott going to be there?”
Silence on the line for a moment, then, “thought you said you'd keep it short?”
“Sorry.” I had to agree, talking about her lover was not going to be a quick conversation. “Just wondering.”
“I'll put it this way,” Robin said. “I didn't explicitly invite him and he does have three other locations having parties that night, but I can't tell him not to come.”
I laughed. “He's gonna be there. It's the best chance he has of starting out the New Year with a bang.”
My wife didn't say anything to that stupid statement, but I did hear a slight chuckle come down the line. It was nice that we could joke about this, although I still got a little queasy.
“You really like pushing buttons, Peter,” Robin said. Before I could respond my wife interrupted. “Sorry, sweetie, gotta go. Emergency in the aromatherapy room.”