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And though he might well have been finished with the lovemaking, one throbbing moment in Jocelyn’s cunt wasn’t enough to celebrate the bizarre night in the woods; she was only beginning. With a winsome smile on her face, with her green eyes gleaming brightly into his cool ones, she unbuttoned the crisp starched shirt, finding his tanned and muscled chest. She stroked it ever so gentle as he lifted a well manicured hand to her face and caressed it with bittersweet awe.
They landed on the deep leather couch locked naked, pressed tightly together for the long night. He had no idea how many times she came, he came three by three a.m.. And when they were sweating hot from sex and the heat of the burning fire in the grate, they remained clutched together naked, neither one wanting to move, communicating silently, because neither one wanted to speak and risk shattering the bliss.
When the fire in the fireplace finally died away, and the Lodge cooled down, Reggie pulled a soft wool blanket over them to keep them warm.
There they slept.
***
There was a fresh morning sun coming through the east window, and a sparkling fresh winter cold outside when Reggie woke. There was no Jocelyn beside him, but there was the distinct smell of coffee in the air.
Rising, with no wearable clothes, his strewn about the floor, he made his way to the downstairs bath and found a robe hanging in a closet. Making his way in the direction of the delicious smells of breakfast, he found Jocelyn in the kitchen, wearing just a white T-shirt and a pair of big shaggy slippers.
“You like your eggs scrambled?” she asked.
“Fine,” he answered, as he looked at her breasts pressing against the front of her T-shirt, and her bottom pressing against the back.
He couldn’t help himself, leaning out to pat her ass cheeks.
“Sore?” he asked.
“A little,” she said.
“So you liked being spanked?”
“Now what do you think?” she said. She took the liberty of kissing him on the mouth, briskly, like a regular lover might.
“You want to try another one?” he asked. The round bobbing mounds were so tempting.
“It might ruin breakfast?” she said, though there was an invitation in her eyes as clear as the one she’d given him the night before.
“We can always start that over,” he suggested.
There was something driving them, something left over from the exuberant night. The connection they’d made was still intact, the memory of their moments together from the spanking to the lovemaking inspiring them to something more.
Taking her hand, he led the willing Jocelyn into the great room, and making a detour by the wall of implements, he grabbed an old wooden paddle from the wall before he led her to the couch.
“Over the knee, this time?” she asked.
“I think you deserve it,” he said, a tease in his usually cool eyes.
Jocelyn found herself shivering, her legs trembling they were so weak with excitement.
“Is this going to hurt?” she asked.
“Yes.”
“Really hurt?”
“Get over here, Jocelyn!” his voice sounded stern, but not at all angry as he’d been before. He pulled her to his side and then drew her over his lap. “I don’t do this often,” he told her. “Just with particularly naughty brats like you.”
The wooden paddle landed with a good sharp smack on her right rear cheek. A second smack then landed on the left. And then what followed were steady efficient blows, alternating cheeks back and forth, so he could see her lovely spanked bottom in the bright light of day.
“This really stings,” she exclaimed after the first nasty dozen.
“And it will even more, and you’ll like it,” he vowed, as he kept up the fierce pace.
“Oh, no, oh no,” she wailed loudly, she could hardly call this pleasant. Finding the sensations so strong, she even put her hands across her bottom to stop him, though that didn’t happen. Instead, he caught her fingers with the wood. “Yeow!” she blared.
