This short story is an entry in the 2003 Soc.Sexuality.Spanking Summer Short Story Contest and is copyright by the author and commercial use is prohibited without permission. Personal/private copies are permitted only if complete including the copyright notice. The author would appreciate your comments
Category: Lines
Wishful Thinking
By
"Your plants look like they haven't been watered in days," her mom said as she walked out the door.
"I know, I haven't watered them in a couple of days," she replied. Her husband listened as Tina's mom started her car, and drove away. Turning to Tina, he said, "So, you haven't watered the flowers in two days? You're a bad girl. I think you should get spanked."
His mind was running away with him. He could imagine her confused look in the beginning, then being compelled to follow his instructions as she would take down her jeans and lie over his lap, waiting to discover this new world with him as her guide.
But then his reverie was interrupted.
"I don't think so," Tina said. "And why are you so obsessed with that, anyway?"
How he wanted to tell her, to shout "Yes!" at the top of his voice. He had tried to broach the subject several times before over the past few years, but each time there was not the slightest bit of encouragement that she'd even be willing to try it out. She was just too vanilla.
He smiled, trying very hard to pretend it wasn't a big deal at all. They kissed, and then settled back into the couch to watch the movie she had put in the DVD player.
He couldn't believe his eyes. Was it? Could it be? Was this Secretary about to be played before them?
Before he could react, he realized it was only a trailer, and as he exhaled, he expelled the excitement of an unanticipated surprise gone sour. He placed his arm around her, as he often did, as the feature began.
He loved his wife. He knew that beyond a doubt. He'd never do anything to damage that relationship. But why couldn't she understand that this was a part of him, too? Why couldn't she make the sacrifice of at least trying it out?
As the ending credits rolled, Tina got up and stripped off her top. "I'm going to go take a bath," she announced. Then she looked at him coyly. "Wanna join me?" she seductively inquired.
"Don't have to ask me twice," he replied. Following her into the bathroom, he unbuttoned his shirt and threw it into the hamper.
"Let ME get those," she said, tugging at his jeans, unfastening them and sliding both the jeans and the boxers down his leg as he stepped out.
He was hard now. He couldn't help that. And he enjoyed their foreplay in the bathtub and the lovemaking afterwards. But he just couldn't get his mind off the earlier thoughts of spanking her over his knee.
What else could he do? As his wife slept, he got up and tiptoed to the den. He quietly turned on the computer and brought up his web browser. He signed into the chat room, and there she was, waiting for him. She would understand. She could help. For tonight.
Dorothea was perfectly lovely.
The End
© Copyright Mscott, 16 June 2003
Reviews
Kessily
I found the story to be somewhat repetitive. I can certainly understand and sympathize with the feelings of a spanko married to a vanilla spouse, so the emotions are there, it's just not terribly cohesive.
RCG <rcg1574(at)yahoo(dot)com>
The story starts off well, with conflict between the the husband's imagination and the reality of consensuality poised for an interesting clash. Instead of coming to a head, it peters out, with only the husband's imagination continuing to roll. The last line seems ineffective until the question comes to mind, is Dorothea the beautiful wife he just make love to, or the person in the chat room who shares his imagination? Well done but unremarkable.
Trisha Allen <trishaallen(at)mindspring(dot)com>
This proves not everyone will agree, to what the female character must have considered, an unconventional display. Dialogue and characters were great. A show of emotions, different interest and thoughts about the subject at hand. Most of us can relate to turning to the Internet and our faceless friends, when our disappointments are high.