Confessions of a Kinky Wife Read Free

happen.
    ‘Maybe more slap than tickle,’ I whispered.
    ‘Are you sure?’
    ‘Do I have to sign a consent form?’
    ‘Story of my life. Paperwork, paperwork, paperwork. But no. I think in this case a verbal agreement holds good. Go on then. Turn over.’
    He let go of my wrists and knelt up, watching me flip myself on to my stomach. My face rested against a velvet cushion, handy if I needed anything to yell into. We didn’t want to disturb the neighbours, after all.
    I felt the tickly swish of my skirt being raised. It was a shame I had to imagine the look on his face as he uncovered lacy briefs and matching suspenders and stockings, but I’d seen it often enough before and at least I got to hear his low sigh of pleasure.
    Rather than any sharp and sudden smack, the next physical contact was his lips on the low curve of my bottom, kissing their way over every inch of the flesh my knickers weren’t protecting. This kindled an amazing tingle, flooding my pussy and making my skin super-sensitive until I began to rather dread what I’d asked for.
    Could I take it back and just carry on with this instead?
    His fingers slipped inside the lacy elastic of my knickers, then down the suspender straps, pulling them out and letting them snap back so that I squealed.
    ‘Thought you’d like that,’ he said, his hands between my thighs now, pulling them apart. ‘Since you’re into pain these days.’
    ‘It’s not that I’m into pain,’ I said, my voice muffled by the cushion.
    ‘No? What then?’
    ‘Just … the whole idea turns me on, that’s all.’
    ‘The whole idea?’
    ‘Yeah. Being, I dunno, taken in hand. Dominated.’
    ‘Oh, so it’s a headspace thing.’
    ‘Totally.’
    ‘And I’m in charge, am I?’
    ‘If you want to be.’
    ‘So what if I just want to order you to get on your knees and suck me off?’
    I huffed. I hoped he wasn’t going to miss the point now.
    ‘If you want to do that, do it. But it’s about both of us getting what we want, not just one of us.’
    ‘Right. And what you want is a good, sound spanking, is it?’
    Oh, just hearing the words, spoken by him in his ‘arresting officer’ voice, could have got me off then and there.
    ‘Mmm, oh, God, yeah.’
    ‘Well,’ he said, his fingertips grazing the crotch of my knickers, stroking it up and down, up and down until my hips were undulating in sympathetic rhythm. ‘I’m not sure what you’ve done to deserve it. Apart from buy me a lovely anniversary present and give me three terrific years of marriage but … let’s say that you’re in trouble for having a bum that stops traffic.’
    I snorted and tried to kick my legs but, as he was kneeling on them, that didn’t make much difference.
    ‘Oh, yes, you stand accused of conducting your arse without due care and attention, so that everyone on the public highway was distracted by it. How do you plead?’
    ‘Guilty,’ I proclaimed, steeling myself for the first blow.
    It was much lighter than I anticipated, a little exploratory slap, so flimsy and weak-wristed I twisted my neck and frowned at him.
    ‘That’s it?’
    ‘Thing is, love,’ he said, his face crumpled in apology. ‘I’m not sure I can hurt you. Do you really want me to make it sting?’
    ‘Don’t hold back,’ I urged him. ‘I’ll tell you if it’s too much, I promise.’
    ‘Well, OK.’ He tried again, and this one made a most satisfying echo, his hand falling quite heavily across the meat of my right cheek. Oh, it hurt, but not too much. Really, just enough. I wondered how much it would take to get my arse really bright red, because that was what I wanted. No half-hearted blush pink, or rapidly fading warmth. I needed the full effect.
    ‘Harder,’ I said. ‘I’ve been bad.’
    ‘Have you now?’ More deliberate, forceful smacks landed on my rear. ‘You’ll have to tell me all about that. What have you done?’
    ‘I had bad thoughts,’ I gasped, starting to feel the burn spread through my lower