AllFreeNovel
Share Us
The sensations produced by Melanie's imagination were so strong that she opened her eyes to realize that she was gently massaging the moist hot place between her thighs. It wasn't the first time that her spanking thoughts had turned so erotic. She seemed possessed by the thought and the way it ignited her passions. Perhaps that was half the problem with things at home, she was living in one glorious erotic world of spanking desires, while having to hold back those feelings when it came to her interaction with Tony.
Yes, this was an impossible situation!
And yes, Tony was right, there was no solution staying at Nell's house. Being here only made matters worse, distancing her from something she had to address first hand.
Even as she wanted to play with herself more, she popped up from the chaise. "I can't stand it anymore," she said aloud to no one. She was alone in Nell's house.
A half hour later, Melanie was packed, in her car, a neat note taped to Nell's refrigerator door.
"I've gone home. Thanks for the breather. I'll call soon. Melanie."
Chapter Six
Tony finished off a second beer and tossed the bottle into a return box in the laundry room. He returned to the kitchen and attacked the sink full of dishes that had been accumulating since Melanie left. She was certainly a better housekeeper than he was, and a better cook. He missed her though, not just because of those things; he missed her vitality and warmth, her beautiful face, her smile, her laughter and the fire in her eyes, her remarkable mind for creation, and of course the way she made love to him.
Their stunning fights however had all too harsh an edge anymore, an unpleasant result, so it seemed, of their move to this house ten months before. Tony thought about his afternoon in the attic reading Daisy Markham's journal. He was sure now that it was the cause of the strange starts and stops the two had had in the last two months.
Spanking, what an absurd idea!
Was that what Melanie wanted?
The thought amused him, but it also ignited a curious sensation in him, something he fought to control in a feminist world. Contrary to the sentiments of the people in his academic circle, he relished the idea of being a man's man, with a commanding bearing and an authoritarian attitude with women. The viewpoint was obviously antiquated, but it still held his fascination. And now, in light of the journal, he thought the idea of turning his wife over his knee and paddling her bottom fit his sense of perfect justice. In his imaginary old fashioned world, it was the perfect solution to domestic crisis.
Old fashioned that it was, could it be that Melanie was actually asking for just such treatment? Were all those afternoons spirited away in the attic—presumably with her Aunt's journal—an indication that she had a real fascination with the prospects of getting her bottom paddled? Days ago, before this last big fight, spanking had been mentioned in one heated moment. Had she been baiting him then, and he was too ignorant to understand her message?
"Tony!" Melanie's voice knocked him from his reverie.
He turned around with soapy hands and gazed at the sight of his beautiful wife, her arms filled with luggage.
"You were going to stay a week?" he said, surprised to see her after only three days. Pleasantly surprised.
Melanie winced a little, then a familiar angry scowl returned to her face. "You want me to go back?' she asked.
"No," he replied. His body rushed a bit thinking how much he'd like sex right then; though he wasn't sure it was a good time to broach the topic.
Melanie tried a little half smile instead of the scowl.
"You eat
en?" Tony asked her.
"No, I've been driving three hours. I'm kind of famished."
"I've been eating out of cans, you want to order a pizza in?" he suggested.
She stared at him and then nodded. Melanie wasn't sure if it was just because she'd been away three days, but it seemed the room was bathed in a strange light. Suddenly "coming to", she noticed that the far wall of the kitchen had been ripped totally out, and in its place was a heavy tarpaulin protecting the room from the elements.
"My god what happened!" she shouted.
"You don't want to know," Tony said. He knew she'd be upset about it, too bad she had to face it first thing.
"Tony," she said nastily, her irritation was showing already. Her plan to focus on Tony alone vanished the instant she realized that the beautiful bay window she loved so much had been trashed. Crossing the room, she looked out to see the remnants of the old window frame on the ground below, not yet hauled away.
"Let's not discuss it now, Mel. You're tired. There's a lot to talk about, and I'd just rather we spend some quiet time together." He was very sincere.
"I can't NOT discuss it," Melanie's voice sounded much too shrill and she knew it.
Tony cringed instantly. He didn't want to be angry, he'd told himself the instant that he saw Melanie. He would at all costs be calm, cool and collected. He wasn't going to explode, he wasn't going to charge in with all the annoying things he'd had to take care of in the past three days, because when she left he had strict instructions from her to "handle it yourself!" No, he wasn't going to explode even though he wanted to . . .
