A quiet morning at home has unexpectedly been disrupted. Joe’s attempt to catch up on tedious but necessary paperwork is disrupted by Ashley reaching up to dust a light bulb (who does that and in heels for heaven’s sake?) and then bending to adjust a curtain hem. Tasks for some reason require proximity to her increasingly cross spouse.
Joe recognises the signs; Ashley is in teasing mode. It’s all in the body language; apparently innocent, but unambiguously provocative postures ensure each dip and stretch thrusts her delightful bottom into prominence.
She’s recently made the uncharacteristic purchase of an extremely slim-fitting pair of white jeans. Where so many of her friends have succumbed to thickening waistlines and spreading derrieres, Ashley’s rear remains enviably shapely. Joe doesn’t blame her for flaunting her figure, he just wishes she’d do so less annoyingly. When she bends over yet again to straighten a rug, wiggling her delightful moons inches from his face, Joe finally accepts he isn’t going to get any admin done today. Far better to take the hint, abandon his fruitless endeavour, and directly address a currently more pressing matter.
“Just got to get something from upstairs,” he says, a matter of factly, “back in a moment.”
From deep within their wardrobe he retrieves an adult toybox, selects a couple of items, then returns with studied nonchalance downstairs where an architrave is being pointlessly dusted. Teetering on tiptoes Ashley’s alluring posterior is delightfully outthrust, tempting Joe to give it a hearty slap. Her affronted expression fools neither of them. He laughs, grasps his wife’s hands, and pulls her towards him.
“We need to talk,” Joe announces firmly, “for a start, what were you thinking when you bought those jeans?
“You know the old saying: ‘does my bum look big in this?'” replies Ashley rhetorically. “Well, mine doesn’t, even though most of the women in the changing room were years younger. I thought the fit looked pretty dam good. And you,” she continues artfully, “are very much an arse man.”
“As you’ve been unsubtly reminding me for the last half hour,” replies Joe. “What did you imagine would happen when you wore them?”
“Well, to be honest, I hoped they might turn your head.”
“Then count your mission a success,” continues Joe, “however I’ve decided it’s time to take you to task for your distracting behaviour.”
“And how do you intend to do that?” enquires Ashley with feigned innocence.
“Since you’ve been encouraging me to pay close attention to your lovely bottom, I fully intend to spank it,” says her man, the erotically charged words making Ashley blush.
Taking her hands Joe slips a soft cord around Ashley’s wrists and hoists them over her head to fasten onto an unobtrusive hook above the lounge door, ostensibly for Xmas decorations. He turns Ashley sideways and grasps her firmly around the middle.
“You’re usually face down over my lap at this stage, it makes a pleasant change to look you in the eyes while I smack your bottom.”
“Pleasant for whom… Ooof!” A firm slap across her denim-clad rear catches Ashley by surprise. Joe grasps one of Ashley’s boobs, feeling the nipple stiffen against his palm as he delivers a further flurry of slaps to the target area. Ashley cries out in alarm as the force of each spank makes her wobble unsteadily.
“Don’t worry, I won’t let you fall,” Joe reassures. By unspoken consent, they kiss, lips and tongues exploring avidly. The next succession of slaps draws audible gasps from Ashley as she feels her haunches grow hot beneath the cotton fabric. “Oh dear,” says Joe, “are you a damsel in distress?”
“Distinctly overheated, “murmurs Ashley, her voice low and sensual. In response, Joe undoes her tight jeans and tugs them down over Ashley’s hips to her knees. A flattering pair of blue silk panties does little to cover her curves, already pink from his punitive attentions.
“Look at me,” instructs Joe, sliding a hand between her legs and forcing it up between Ashley’s thighs.
Ashley fixes him with a sultry gaze. “I may be rather damp down there,” she ventures quietly.
“That’s an understatement, but don’t apologise,” replies Joe, “this is what you’ve wanted all along, isn’t it?”
“Absolutely,” admits Ashley.
Joe tugs the skimpy knickers up tightly into her cleft, leans forward, and whispers in her ear, “Get ready, the next spanks will be on your sit spot and upper thighs.” Ashley screws her eyes shut and tenses. Joe lifts his arm, then waits, letting her trepidation build, before delivering the promised percussive slaps. Ashley’s eyes open wide in shock, she wails in distress at the smart, simultaneously pushing her crotch forward into the heel of Joe’s hand. As he continues the chastisement, Ashley stamps her feet in a hopeless attempt to dissipate the heat.
“Better keep still, unless you want to feel my belt,” warns Joe, stepping back to admire his handiwork. Each of Ashley’s pale thighs shows the imprints of livid, overlapping palm prints. He tugs the panties down to her knees before resuming the reddening of Ashley’s increasingly sore bottom, all the while caressing her shaven pussy.
“Tell me loud what’s happening to you,” he demands, looking directly into Ashley’s dark brown eyes.
“You’re smacking…” Ashley winces at the heat spreading across her burning cheeks, “…my poor bottom.”
“And how does that feel?”
“How do think? Bloody sore!”
“This might be a prudent time to be more polite,” advises Joe, “since you’re in no position to defend yourself.”
“Oh, bloody ha, ha,” pouts Ashley, groaning and twisting as her punishment continues. Eyes wet, mascara smudged, and alluringly dishevelled.
“And what else am I doing?” Ashley lowers her gaze and looks away. “Eye contact please,” growls Joe
“It’s rude…” Ashley falters.
“Bit late in the day to be coy,” suggests Joe. “Now try again: What am I doing?”
“You’re rubbing my clit and…” Ashely is breathing heavily, “…fingering my pussy. Oh, slower on the spanks and faster with the fingers please darling.” Joe duly obliges. “Oh fuck, you’re going to make me come.”
“Soon,” promises her husband, “focus on staying still, control the hurt, concentrate on the arousal.”
“Please let me come,” pleads Ashley. Abruptly Joe stops spanking the hot-to-the-touch cheeks, instead thrusting two fingers deep into Ashley’s sopping sex. Sensing her impending climax and likely collapse he holds her tightly as Ashley surrenders to a shuddering orgasm. Released from her bonds she clings limply to him, overwrought and exhausted.
“You’ve made me weak at the knees, and oh, my poor bum.”
“Would you like me to rub something cool and soothing on those burning buttocks?” asks Joe solicitously.
“Would I ever?” says Ashley, “but first…” awkwardly, still hobbled by the tight white jeans and surrendered knickers tangled around her ankles, she sinks to her knees and reaches for his zip, “…I think it’s time your wife demonstrated just how contrite and grateful for her spanking she is…”
