Page 41 of Aunt Daisy's Secret


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Tony reached out and pulled her to him, his hand going immediately between her legs to see if she was as aroused as he thought she would be. She moved on him, his touch so very soft and stimulating it wasn't seconds before he pulled her down to the couch. Throwing off his own clothes, he descended on her; and with his arms wrapped around her he entered her, and the two moved softly together, as the lust climbed in them both.

He explored her mouth, ran tiny kisses down her neck, played with her rear end, that was sore and hot and the center of her sexual heat. She bucked against him wildly, every single touch, fuel to send her to the edge.

Melanie was almost as vocal in her climax as she was while she was being spanked. It had been so long since they'd combined their two favorite passions at one time. It was bliss to remember.

"I do love this," she purred to him in the heat of the moment.

He heard her vow, but he was too wrapped up in his own release to acknowledge the admission.

The quick climax passing, the two tried remaining on the couch together, relishing the moment of peace in each other's arms, though Melanie tumbled on to the thick shaggy rug on the floor.

"Ooops!" she said laughing, as she lay back and looked up at her husband. "Should have brought you down with me."

Tony turned on his side and looked down at her with a smile. "You weren't looking for another man, were you?" he wondered aloud.

"No, no, no, no," Melanie cried. "Please don't think that."

"Good," he smirked. "Let's just be sure you remember who owns this ass of yours." He reached down and grabbed it, giving it a hearty squeeze.

"Ouch, that hurts!" she shot back, though she wasn't angry at all, it was feeling far too good.

"Now, you'd better go rescue that dinner of yours, I'm hungry."

"You don't want to eat that," Melanie assured him, thinking of the ruined sauce, and half-baked meat.

"Then make me a ham sandwich, I'm starved. If get don't get something to eat soon, I just might have to take a bite out of your ass!"

"Coming right up," Melanie said, with a little salute. She jumped up, grabbed her clothes and scampered to the kitchen.

"Hey," Tony yelled to her from the living room. "I'm still not done with you, by the way."

Melanie popped her head up over the counter. "What's that suppose to mean?" she called out to him.

"You'll just have to wait and see." It was all the explanation she was going to get.

Chapter Fourteen

A day later, Tony came home to find Melanie again in the kitchen, no doubt working on another recipe.

"What's up?" she said brightly. She looked up to see an odd look on his face, when she was expecting something much more peaceful. "Something wrong?" she asked.

"Not at all," he said, maintaining the inscrutable cool. "I want you to call Glen and arrange for him to meet us at my office. Any night this week, next week if that's not convenient."

"What ever for?" Melanie blurted out flabbergasted by the request. She watched her husband pull out the envelope and lay it on the counter. It was the first she'd seen of it since Tony had thrown it at her when he was spitting fire the day before.

"You know exactly what for," Tony countered her.

"But . . . "

"Do it." His eyes narrowed darkly.

Melanie couldn't argue with his intentions. He was serious and detached, as if he wanted to make certain that she heard his message and took it seriously. Then settling himself in a chair by the window, he read the paper until dinner. They didn't say anymore about the direct order that night, though it had certainly had a distinct effect on Melanie's attitude.

This must have something to do with his charge the night before that he wasn't "done" with her. She winced to herself, knowing pretty much what he had in mind.

The next afternoon, after a long period of agonizing over Glen's letter, Melanie finally picked up the phone and dialed the man's number. She was shaking like a leaf the whole time, though there was a certain thrill to the bold move that she could hardly deny. She supposed that it was time to quit denying any of her passions.

"How about Thursday night?" Glen offered, when she finally got around to suggesting the meeting that Tony wanted.

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