Answering to Him (Old-Fashioned Husband) Page 2

  The most attractive thing about Oliver was his voice. His voice was always soft, his words having the tilt of a southern accent, though he vehemently denied its existence. There was something that underlined his words—a quiet authority, it seemed to me, that perhaps encouraged me to think he would be the kind of man who liked to spank a girl.

  I started unbuttoning his aqua plaid shirt, feeling the warmth of his eyes on me. Once open, it exposed his wide, large shoulders, a chest full of black, curly hair, and a stomach that was almost completely flat. He joked occasionally about needing to hit the gym, but I thought he looked great. He could pass for a man much younger than his forty-two years.

  “What’s gotten in to you?” he asked, clearly pleased.

  All I could do was smile wanly. Our sex life had been less than stellar over the last few years, though I couldn’t quite put my finger on the why of it. I still found him attractive, and I knew he felt the same. Now that Jonah was older, we had more time for each other—despite the incident earlier in the day. There was just something missing between us… although I suspected I knew exactly what that “something” was. Still, I didn’t have any room to complain—Oliver was a good husband, who worked hard to provide, and was a terrific father to our son. I knew I should just be grateful for what I had.

  He leaned in to kiss my neck, but I pulled away. He responded by sliding the strap of my top down my arm, leaving my shoulder bare. Normally, I loved the feel of his warm mouth tracing kisses along my body, but tonight I couldn’t relax. I pulled away from his embrace and turned my back on him. Nonplused, he began scratching my back. Normally, it was my favorite thing and could soothe any mood, but tonight it just irritated.

  “I’m not a dog, you don’t need to scratch me like one,” I snapped.

  That got his attention. “What’s the matter, honey? Seems like nothing is making you happy tonight. What can I do?”

  I turned back around to face him, unsure of how I’d answer. “Have you ever thought about spanking me?” The words just popped out. As soon as they’d escaped my mouth, I felt myself freeze. I looked at Oliver—did my panic show on my face?

  He spread his full lips in a wide smile, his eyes lighting up as he did. “Spanking you? For foreplay?” I wasn’t sure how to respond, so I just smiled tentatively. I felt the butterflies in my stomach take flight when he patted his knee. “Well, come on over here.”

  I suddenly felt incredibly shy and couldn’t make myself meet his eyes. Still, I slid toward him, inch by inch, hardly daring to hope that this was real or would fulfill my pent-up fantasies. When I felt my knee brush against his, I looked up, seeing Oliver grin at me before gently taking my hands in his. With a tug, he pulled me over his lap and my heart began dancing crazily in my chest.

  He put a hand on my ass and began moving it in circles. I was wearing powder blue silk sleep pants to bed, and the sensation of his fingers through the rich fabric made me arch my back, encouraging more of his caress. I turned my head at the sound of his chuckle, wondering if it had begun, just as I feared. “Honey, you’re spread out like a cat in heat,” he said, wonderingly. “How long have you been wanting me to do this?”

  I blushed hotly at the question, unsure of how to answer, or if I even wanted to. Maybe all those fears had been right—maybe he really was just going to laugh at me. The thought stung so much that I felt tears come to my eyes. Before I could work up the courage to reply, I felt it: his hand came down, once, twice, on my bottom. He paused, waiting for me to react, but I couldn’t say a word. I closed my eyes against the tears, feeling the warm tingling in my cheeks.

  It was only a few more seconds before he smacked me again, and again. His hand landed a little harder the next time, and a moan escaped my lips. Oliver immediately pulled me upright, into his strong arms.

  “Did I hurt you?” he asked, his voice full of concern.

  My insides had been boiling, turning to jelly with each firm spank, and I couldn’t find the words to answer him. Instead, I leaned forward and kissed him hard on the mouth. He returned my kiss, and when we pulled apart, we were breathless, like a couple of horny teenagers.

  “More?” he asked. The word was warm and husky with desire that mirrored my own. I nodded, and was upended over his lap as though he’d done this many times before. When the slaps started again, they were slower, almost like he was teasing me, but they packed more of a wallop.

  Each one had me squirming over his lap, and though I tried to keep my lips closed, my pleasure was audible. When I felt him stop and shift his weight, I turned wide, lust-filled eyes to him. “Don’t stop,” I pleaded in a small, little-girl voice I almost didn’t recognize as my own.

  “OK, then. Let’s get this thing out of the way.” Oliver slid my pants down, giving him access to my panty-clad behind. I flushed deeper when I remembered that I was wearing white granny panties. As much as I’d hoped and prayed throughout the day for this moment to come, I’d never really expected it to happen!

  He began again, still taking his time, delivering slow, hard spanks to my behind. I was practically purring over his lap. To my surprise, I felt his hand on the waistband of my panties only seconds before he slid them down. I shivered as the cool air kissed my newly bared bottom, feeling as if I were dreaming. This time, the smacks he put on my cheeks were fast and stingy. It did unimaginable things to my body. With each impact, I felt a smarting sensation, but somehow, knowing he did this out of love or desire, or both, made it feel incredibly sexy.

  I was starting to feel a bit sore when Oliver flipped me over on to my back. Without a word, he set me on the bed and leaned over me. I inhaled deeply, taking in his sandalwood cologne and the hunger in his dark eyes. For a moment, it felt like my heart stopped. God, how I wanted him!

  He pounced on me, nibbling my lip, kissing it, so amorous in his need that he was rougher than usual. I responded eagerly, feeling his urgency in every possessive touch of his fingers. I tilted my head back so that he could kiss my neck. He attacked the delicate flesh immediately, with such passionate kisses that I wondered if I might get my first hickey in almost fifteen years. As he was pressing his lips to every inch of skin there, I was pulling his shirt off. As soon as he was free of it, my hands went for the zipper on his pants.

  “When are you going to stop wearing jeans to bed?” I asked, my voice breathy as I giggled.

  “As soon as you remember to take them off me, like this,” he replied before biting down on my neck and making me gasp.

  As soon as I slid his jeans off, pulling the boxers down along with them, his cock sprang forward, long and hard. Just the sight of it made me melt. I reached out a finger to stroke his hardened manhood, and the minute I touched the swollen head, the feel of his silky skin made my panties dampen with desire.

  “God, Alicia,” he groaned, sounding almost fierce. Before I could take him in my hand, he reached over and pushed me down on the bed.

  I felt my heart leap into my throat. I’d never seen him like this; my husband was always so steady and mild-mannered, and while I loved him for it, seeing this man that was practically wild for me was thrilling beyond words. We came together as though we were the cats in heat my husband had teasingly accused me of being. I clawed my fingernails down his back and saw him grit his teeth as he groaned.

  He pounded into me, hard, each thrust desperate to find release. I could hardly catch my breath as I lay underneath him; desire had turned my insides to mush, and with each thrust I felt myself flying higher, and higher, exhilarated at the pleasure and terrified of following all at once.

  “I can’t take any more,” I gasped. “Please, Oliver.”

  Normally the perfect gentleman, my husband would have stilled and rolled over at once. The man who had replaced him, who had delivered more pleasure to me in one night than I’d ever had before, shook his head. “Come with me.”

  “Oh, please,” I groaned again. “Please.” Even I didn’t know what I was begging him for—I could hardly speak with
the heat in my body that was willing to tear me apart to find release. Maybe he knew I was saying, Stop, you have to stop before I come apart. Maybe he knew, but he didn’t heed my pleas.

  The thrusts came closer together, even harder than before, and I rode each wave out, clutching his sweaty arm. I closed my eyes and saw colors dance before them. This must be what it feels like—my body was racked with orgasms. This must be what it feels like to die from pleasure.

  * * * * *

  My head swam and everything around me felt strangely fuzzy. Where was I? The fog in my mind seemed to lift for a moment, and I felt myself over Oliver’s lap, my robe flipped up, my bottom bared with my panties around my thighs. This had happened before…hadn’t it?

  “I told you I would talk to Jonah,” Oliver was saying, his voice unusually stern.

  “I know, but—”

  Smack. Whatever I might have said was cut off by a resounding smack to my bottom. “What are you doing?” I squealed.

  “Giving you a spanking,” he replied mildly. “I thought you liked it.”

  I detected the wry edge to his voice, and I kicked my legs, fuming. “Not like this, and you know it!” I hollered at him. I felt Oliver shifting his weight, and before I could pull free, he’d trapped my legs under one of his, making it almost impossible to move.

  “I’d watch that tone of yours, dear.” With that, he proceeded to pepper my bottom with fast, hard spanks. The burn of each one just increased my anger.

  “What is wrong with you?” I spat out at him.

  “Nothing is wrong with me, Alicia. I am trying to teach you a lesson. You don’t need to nag me, honey. When I say I will do something, I will do it. And I said I was going to give you a spanking, so you better settle in. You won’t be leaving for a while.”

  The slaps continued to rain down, one after the other, until my bottom warmed beneath his palm. I could feel how much it hurt, so I could only imagine how red it looked. When the tears came, spilling hotly onto my cheeks, I felt my anger melt away. I had nagged him about talking to Jonah, and I had been surly with him.

  I didn’t even realize he’d stopped until I felt his hand resting on my sore fanny. I’d been crying too hard to take notice of anything other than how miserable I felt. When Oliver helped me off his lap, I saw the familiar love and concern in his eyes. He brushed the tears from my face with calloused fingers, and tilted my chin up when I tried to turn away.

  “Do you feel better now?” he asked softly.

  How did he know? I wondered, staring. When he cleared his throat pointedly, I nodded. “Yes, sir.”

  He seemed pleased by the words, though they came as a shock to me. I’d never called a man “sir” in my life! “Let’s not have to have this conversation again, OK, baby?”

  I opened my mouth, about to “yes, sir” him again when I was cut off by the piercing sound of the alarm. I looked to my bedside in confusion, reaching over to shut it off. It didn’t work, and the shrill alarm seemed to get even louder, until it was almost deafening.

  Chapter 2

  I opened my eyes, yawning, and reached over to shut off the alarm. When the peals fell silent, I turned to look for my husband, but his side of the bed was empty. I was just debating on whether to go looking for him or fall back asleep when he emerged from the bathroom, buttoning the cuffs of his pressed white shirt.

  “Morning, sleepyhead,” he greeted me, a sparkle in his eye.

  “Hello,” I replied, suddenly shy. Oliver winked at me, and I realized that he must have thought I was remembering last night; he had no way of knowing what I’d dreamt, or the fact my body was aching with yearning to have him again.

  “Are you going to get up?”

  “Mmm…maybe you could join me?” I suggested, knowing even as I said it that there was zero percent chance that he would take me up on it. Oliver took work very seriously.

  “Well…” He glanced at his watch and turned back to me. “I can give you an hour.”

  Any other woman might be insulted, but I had been married for sixteen years, and I was secure in my marriage. I patted the place beside me, and when he came to me, all fresh-shaven and smelling of cologne, I began undoing the buttons of his shirt with so much haste that my husband reached out to stop me.

  “Hey!” he scolded, laughing. “Where’s the fire?”

  I leaned over and whispered, wondering at my daring, “In my cunt.”

  The effect was instantaneous. Oliver practically ripped my robe off in his haste to have me, flinging it across the room the moment he tore it off me. I slid underneath him before he could pin me down, and unbuttoned his pants. I slid a hand in and grabbed his cock, sliding my fingers over his balls. He groaned when I gave them a firm, playful squeeze.

  “This is a dangerous game you’re playing, Alicia,” he warned, his voice so stern it made my mind flash back to my dream.

  My eyes flew to his face, expecting the serious frown he’d had in my dream. His face was deadpan and I relaxed. “Really? How’s that?”

  “If you keep up like this, you’re going to give me a heart attack!” he exclaimed. “This old man can’t keep up.”

  I snorted. “Old man, really? Come on, Oliver!”

  “It’s true,” he said, unbuttoning his pants and sliding them down to give me free access to his goods. “I’m old. But you, Alicia…” He inhaled sharply when I licked his balls.

  “I’m getting old, too, Ollie.”

  “You promised never to call me that!” he exclaimed, but it just made me laugh. I was so deliciously happy. “Come here, you.” He pulled me up and set me down with my head on the pillows. Once he had me where he wanted me, he caressed my cheek, smiling down at me with so much love that I couldn’t help but smile back.

  I tried my best to look sultry. “How do you want me today?”

  Oliver burst out laughing. “Why don’t you let me worry about that, hmm?”

  “Maybe we—”

  “Alicia.” I’d never heard him pack so much meaning into the way he said my name. “I said let me worry about it.”

  I arched an eyebrow at his authoritative tone. To my surprise, he didn’t back down, or break into a smile like I expected. His face stayed serious, and I felt compelled to nod and say the magic words. “Yes, sir.”

  “Good girl,” he said warmly. He caressed my cheek, and that gesture, combined with him calling me a good girl had my panties suspiciously damp. “Now, close your eyes for me.”

  I obeyed immediately, waiting for whatever he wanted to do. It was several long seconds before anything happened, but when I felt his hand on my breast, I gasped. The sensation of his touch seemed heightened since I didn’t see it coming first. He used his fingers to play with my nipple, rolling it between his fingers until it hardened into a stiff peak. When I felt his warm tongue on my nipple, I promptly arched my back, begging for more. He obliged me and took it in his mouth. His other hand began the same process on my other nipple, and I swear, I swear to God, I’d never come before without anything touching my cunt.

  The temptation to open my eyes and look at him while I was shuddering with an orgasm was too much. Oliver seemed to sense it, though, and he issued a quick smack to my thigh. “No peeking.”

  “Oh!” I gasped, my body humming from his ardent touch. Each passing hour seemed to bring out a dominant side to his personality that I hadn’t known existed. Briefly, I thought about asking him where he’d been hiding it, but decided I wanted to avoid getting more of those stinging smacks to my thighs—it hurt! Besides, I had better things to focus on.

  “Open your mouth.”

  I almost giggled at the command, but stifled it just in time. “What’s the password?”

  “Alicia Ann!”

  The scolding surprised me, and I opened an eye to peer at him. Was he being serious? His dark eyes had a gleam in them, but before I could assess it further he’d hauled me up and put me over his lap. “Hey! Wait a minute!”

  “I told you not to open your eyes,
” he reminded me. With that, he began spanking me. I was too stunned to comment. The spanks didn’t really hurt, except that they kept coming, but that wasn’t it. It was more the fact that the serious tones, the way he issued threats, this dominant side that I’d never seen before was a little much to take in.

  When I was tingling all over, he let me off his lap and pressed a kiss to my forehead. “I’m sorry,” I said, suddenly bashful, but Oliver just laughed.

  “Just a little fun,” he said with a wink.

  “Oh.” For some reason that I couldn’t explain, I felt my heart sink a little at his words. I mean, I was glad, of course, that he was spanking me. It was something I’d always hoped for, but at the same time…I found that I liked him in charge and to find out that the whole thing was just a joke was a bit jarring.

  Oliver went back to lavishing my body with all manners of pleasure until I was limp and exhausted from orgasms. “Are you ready for me?”

  I nodded eagerly, and when he plunged into my wet cunt I cried out. I hadn’t thought it was possible to be anything but chaffed and raw by this point—after all, both his tongue and his fingers had already brought me shuddering waves of pleasure. And it did hurt a bit at first, but once Oliver got into a rhythm, I felt my body getting warm beneath him.

  We moved together, the two of us reaching for release. I met his eyes and smiled, holding onto his shoulders tightly. He grimaced and thrust faster and faster until his body shook with the power of his orgasm. I cried out, feeling his hot seed spill into me. When he was done, he closed his eyes and fell on top of me. A gentleman through and through, he only stayed there for a moment before kissing me full on the mouth and rolling off.

  “I’ve got to hurry and get ready for work,” he announced, sounding short of breath. “What’s been up with you, honey? Are you trying to set a new record or something?”