textfiles/sex/EROTICA/O/on_time.txt

_Spanking On Time_

	
	Jennifer pivoted her chin on the palm of her hand, looking out
the corner of her eye past her long red locks at the clock on the wall.
It was only a few minutes since the last time she had looked, and Steve
was still not home.  She closed her eyes, the anger welling up deep
inside of her.  She lifted her head and pounded her fist on the dining
room table.  "He's doing it, again." She told herself.  "Everyday it's
the same old thing.  'Sorry, honey, stopped to have a beer with the
guys after work.'"  She stood up and started pacing the kitchen, her
tone becoming more and more cross.  "'Sorry, dear, went shopping for 
a book after work and lost track of the time,'" She repeated from 
memory, mimicing her husband's voice.  Everyday this week she'd left
work just a little early to have a nice dinner waiting to surprise her
husband, and everyday this week, it slowly went cold as she waited alone.
	Today, she'd even called to ask him to be home on time.  This
time, he swore up and down he'd be home directly.  But tonight was going
to be like every other night.  She wanted just one special evening with
her husband, but by the time he finally got home, she was angry, had a
headache, and just wanted to go to sleep.  The door began to open.  Jennifer
bit her lip.  She and her husband had arguments before, sometimes it 
actually led to a change, mostly it just let them vent their frustrations
at their differences.  As he walked casually into the kitchen, a thought 
came to Jennifer that made her smile as Steve walked around the corner.
	"Hello, dear," he said calmly, walking over to kiss her gently
on the cheek.  He noticed her smile.  "Have a good day?" 
	"Sort of.  Didn't you say you'd be home on time today?" she 
asked innocently.
	"Yeah," he shrugged, "sorry, I really got into this paper I've
been trying to finish to send into the journal and the time just got
away with me.  I'm sorry."
	Jennifer continued to smile.  She walked up and wrapped her arms
around him.  "That's ok.  Promise me something, though."
	"Sure."
	"No matter what happens, you'll be home on time tomorrow."
	"Ok."
	"No, not ok, promise me."
	"I promise."

	Jennifer continued to smile as she popped the cold dishes of
food into the microwave to reheat them.  Later that night, like all the
others that week, she kissed her husband good night shortly after dinner,
complaining she was tired, and went to sleep.

	The next day, she left work shortly after lunch, her wicked smile
from her moment of inspiration still beaming on her face.  She stopped by
a boutique and tried on several pieces of lingerie until she found what
she was looking for:  A leather bra, leather garter belt and a pair of
fishnet stockings for her long legs.  She took her time getting home,
slowly stripping off her work clothes and taking a long hot shower.
As the water cascaded down her body, she thought of how the bra and
stockings had looked when she saw herself in the dressingroom mirror.
The heat of the shower rose around her, she leaned back against the
tiled wall and slowly rubbed her clit.  She closed her eyes and imagined
her lover standing behind her, admiring her body, her long locks of
read hair, the contrasts between the black leather and her freckled
white skin.  Her knees began to shake as she felt the inner light of
her orgasm wash over her body.  
	After the shower, she rummaged briefly through her closet,
finding her short, tight black tube dress.  She laid it on the bed
and finished drying herself off.  She pulled on the leather bra and
garter belt, her cheeks feeling flush as the touch of the material
aroused her again.  She slowly pulled on the stockings and stopped
for a moment to admire herself in the mirror.  She caressed the small
patch of reddish blonde hair between her legs for a moment before
applying a small spray of perfume to her mound.  Finally, she pulled
on the tight dress, adjusting the shoulders and the hem that fell 
just above her knees.  She found her heels in the corner of her
closet a few minutes later and returned to the bathroom to apply her
makeup.  Jennifer did not usually care for wearing a lot of makeup,
but she wanted to shock Steve as much as possible.  She found a 
brilliant red lipstick that she'd once bought but never used, and
slowly applied it to her lips.  
	When she was ready to leave the house shortly thereafter,
she stopped to admire her handiwork in the mirror.  For a moment,
she thought she might be able to stop in at Steve's office and 
he wouldn't even know it was here.  She smiled her wicked smile
once more, picked up her car keys and headed out.  On the way to
the door, she noticed that Steve should be leaving work right
about now, but like every other day this week, he'd be late.  This
time, that was okay.  This time, she was counting on it.
	
	
	Steve actually arrived home immediately after work as he
had promised.  He didn't notice Jennifer's car passing him on 
the highway.  He knew he'd been neglecting her, and he wanted to
make it up somehow.  Steve walked into the empty house and looked
at his watch.  He realized that he couldn't have made it home
before his wife.  He smiled as he thought he might actually be
able to have the last laugh on his wife, and rib her for once
about how he had made it home and had to wait for her.  He chuckled.
	Two hours later, Steve wasn't chuckling anymore.  He had
called her office, and was surprised to find that she'd left shortly
after lunch.  He called her best friend, Sara, and was aggrivated when
she wasn't there.  For the first half hour, Steve thought that this
might all be a ruse by his wife to prove a point, but after two hours
of waiting in silence, even his hunger pains couldn't pierce his sour
mood.  He sat, stewing by the phone in the livingroom.  He heard a
car drive up.  He remained sitting on the couch as his wife came 
through the door and into the darkened house.  She turned a light
on, and saw her husband sitting, alone and visibly upset.  
	His lips moved, but Jennifer could tell that his teeth were
set against themselves.  "Where have you been?"
	Jennifer took a small breath.  She wanted to push his buttons
for once, and knew she'd have to be strong to make this work.  "Is
it late?" she asked increduously.
	"It's dark outside!" he barked.  Jennifer returned only her
devious little smile.  
	"I'm sorry honey, but I just decided to take the rest of the
day off and enjoy myself."
	"We were supposed to meet for dinner."
	"Yes, yesterday, and the day before, but you were late, dear."
	"I mean, tonight." He was up off the couch.  She could feel
his eyes scanning her.  "Where did you go dressed like that?"
	"Out." she said tersely, and then turned her back on him,
walking into the kitchen.  Of all of his hangups, the one thing 
Steve hated was to have someone turn his back while he was talking
to them.  She embellished her stride as she made her way into the 
kitchen.  She could hear his footsteps coming closer, felt his hand
on her shoulder spinning her around.
	"I'm not finished."
	"Well, I am.  What are you going to do about that?"
	She watched him boil for a moment.  His eyes darted left and
right and for a moment, Jennifer thought her husband might explode
in a thousand different directions right in front of her.  "Something
I should have done a long time ago." he replied.  He grabbed her hands
and pulled her close to him.  She struggled.  Strangely enough, she
felt suddenly aroused at the sight of her husband's anger.  He sat
down on a chair at the table and pulled her over his lap, her long
red locks falling to the floor.  "I expect you to call if you're
going to be late," he growled, bringing his hand down on her behind.
	"You never call," she squealed.  She could feel her mound 
rubbing against his thigh as she struggled.  
	"That's different." he barked, bringing his hand down on
her behind a second time.  He didn't think it was doing any good
because of her dress, so he pulled up the tight black hem to 
reveal her naked buttocks.  
	"Why is it different?" she demanded.
	"Where are you panties?" he growled.  She remained silent.
His hand came down on the pale soft flesh of her ass.  "Where are
your panties?" he repeated.  His large firm hand came down on her
other cheek, leaving a large red mark against her skin.  "I'm not
going to have my wife running around the city dressed like that 
without her panties on." He brought his hand down again and again
with every two or three words as he spoke.  
	"Make me," she replied defiantly.  She shivered on his
lap.  This was the first time she'd been spanked by anyone since
she was 12.  Her mind raced and her cheeks fell flushed.  She
wondered why it was that she suddenly felt aroused.  Her mound was
moist and it slowly rocked against Steve's lap as his hand came
down on the cheeks of her butt.  
	Steve had had enough.  He was not going to have his wife 
parading around town dressed like a whore and flirting with other
men at all hours of the night.  He stood up, grabbing her by the
hair and leading her into the livingroom.  
	"Ow! Damn, that hurts!" she ranted.
	Steve paused and bent over for a moment.  He whispered in 
a low steady voice, "Then I suggest you walk *with* me."  Then,
he continued on into the living room.  He pushed his wife down
on the rug in front of the couch, grabbing at as much of her long
red locks as he could.  He picked up the corner of the couch and 
pushed her hair under it, pinning it on the runner of the couch
as he let it down.  Jennifer tried to lift her head, feeling the 
hair caught on the couch.  She flailed her hands in the air.  
Steve grabbed her hands, pinning them to her back.  He held them with
one hand as his other pulled up the hem of her dress once more.  He
pulled at one of the fishnet stockings, ripping it from her garter
belt, and pulling it down her leg.  He brought her hands up behind
her head like a policeman would and tied them together at her neck.
He sat back for a moment, wiping the sweat from his forehead and 
seeing her struggle.  The image strangely aroused him.  He  
kneeled next to his wife.  He flailed on her ass with his open 
hand once more.  "On your knees!"  She didn't respond.  He 
brought his palm down harder, in time with each of is words, 
"On...your...knees...now!"  His wife slowly pulled her knees
up, her ass lifting in the air.  
	"Are you going to leave me waiting at home like this again?"
She remained silent.  Steve for a moment thought he might have heard
a moan.  "Answer me."
	"No." she said.
	He shook his hand for a moment.  It was swelling and pink.  
His class ring trapped on his enlarged ring finger.  He wrapped
an arm around his wife's waist and continued to spank her, equally
on each of her buttocks.  "We're not going anywhere until you
promise me not to do this again."  He paused his spanking for a moment,
laying his hand on her back.  She could feel his hand pounding in time
with his heart, swollen and hot on the small of her back.  
	"Ok, ok," she cried, "but on one condition."
	"What?" he barked.
	"That you do this evernight."
	Steve felt silent.  He looked at his wife, and as his anger
passed, he could tell that she was rubbing her thighs together,
aroused.  "What?" he whispered.
	"Please spank me every night."  He continued to sit in
silence for a moment.  He had been fighting the thought all night
that he was aroused at seeing his wife bound and spanked, but now
that she admitted to her own arousal, he relaxed for a moment.
	"Are you hot?" he asked.  He slowly lifted the corner of
the couch to free her hair.  She fell against him as he tried to
help her up.  She kissed frantically at his chest.  
	"Please, spank me every night and I promise I'll never 
leave you waiting again.  Oh, Steve," she struggled, her body
quivering in arousal.  "Please, I'm so hot."  He moved to 
undo her bound wrists.  "No," she stopped him.  "Leave them, just
make love to me."  Something came over him, and he pushed her
back, kissing her deeply, laying her down on her throbbing pink 
ass that burned against the material of the carpet.  His wife 
continued to beg for him to make love to her, quickly, before
her ass stopped burning.  
	Steve was aroused by his wife's sudden kinky attitude.  His
member grew in his pants and he struggled to free it.  He pushed
his wife back and spread her legs, entering her slowly and lifting
her dress up around her arms.  He ran his fingers across the leather
bra, pulling it up and ravaging her hard nipples with his mouth.
He dragged a hand across his wife's ass, smiling as she yelped and
moaned, begging for more.  He smiled, lifting his gaze to hers, 
"Are you going to be a good girl from now on?"  He asked, his hot
rod roughly running in and out of her wet pussy lips.
	"Yes, sir," she whispered, her head rocked from side to side
as she felt a shudder of electricity travel her spine, she gasped for
air as she began to shake in orgasm.