Author: The Naughty Gaffer brndtag at mcn.net.
Please use “Story Comments” in subject line if you send e-mail.
Title: Snow Day  
Keywords: M/F, rom, married, spank
Summary: Even parents are sexy.
"Lots of snow, Mommy," echoed Bob. "Mommy, what's snow?"
"Bobbit, you know what snow is. You saw it last year." Laura looked out at the first snow of December; a foot deep and piling up fast. 
"I was little boy last year," Bob said stoutly. "Don't 'member snow."
"You were only three. You're a big boy of four now, aren't you?" Jefferson said.
"Big boy!" Bob confirmed.
"Aw, he's still a brat," said Andy, from his sage perspective of seven.
"Andy! We've talked about that," Jefferson said sternly. 
"Oh, all right," Andy said. "Are they going to close school?"
"It's Saturday, Andy. They don't have to close school." Laura smiled and got out ingredients for sweet rolls.
"Waste of a good snow, then," Andy grumbled. "It's better when they have to close school."
"Come on, help me with the rolls," Laura said. Jefferson took Bob to the living and showed him pictures of kids in snow games until Laura called them to the table.
Breakfast disappeared quickly. It took somewhat longer to get the boys and themselves ready to go out; Laura was almost ready to give it up the third time she fastened Bob's parka and heard, "Mommy, got to go."
"Bobbit, again?" she said in exasperation. The last two had been false alarms, but she knew better than to take chances.
"I got to go," Bob insisted. With a sigh, Laura began unwrapping him. Jefferson looked in and saw that they were delayed again. 
"Listen, I'll take Andy and we'll meet you on the hill," he said. "He's banging on the door already."
"Okay," Laura answered. Ten minutes later - the last call had been for real - she lugged Bob up the hill behind their house. Covered with snow, Jefferson and Andy were just reaching the top after their first run on the toboggan.
They buzzed the hill for the rest of the morning. Laura usually took Bob down; he was still scared of going too fast and Laura preferred a tamer ride herself. Sometimes all of them rode, the boys' shrieks splitting the cold air. The snow still fell in frequent flurries, but Laura was surprised that they were the only family on the hill. "Those people don't know what they're missing!" she called to her husband as he towed the toboggan up to her.
"Frostbite, hypothermia, and lumbago," Jefferson said, flopping heavily in the snow beside her. Laura laughed.
"You're not that old," she said. For a man pushing forty, he was looking very good, she said to herself. Jefferson was well over six feet, still built like the wide receiver he had been in college. He was a respected physician now - to everyone but Laura and the boys. They knew he was really a kid with a job. L"He really looks good with the snow in his beard like that. A real mountain man," Laura found herself thinking. 
She could feel Jefferson's eyes on her, too, and she reveled in their hot gaze. She was thirty-five, just beginning to feel the need of reassurance now and then. And the way her man looked her over was very reassuring. Laura was scarcely visible under the parka, the heavy jeans and boots, but he focused closely on her smooth face and long auburn hair. She knew the face was traced just a little, she knew where she was covering the gray - and he did, too. But it obviously didn't matter, and that was what did matter.
She jumped up and grabbed a handful of snow. It was perfect: damp enough to cling, dry enough to puff when it hit. "Defend yourself!" she yelled. Jefferson looked up a moment too late and took the first snowball smack in the face.
Andy and Bob immediately joined in. Jefferson found himself under a furious assault from three sides. Laura laughed as he scrambled up a tree to save himself. "Come down, you coward!" she called up to him.
"Not a chance! It's safer up here!" But it wasn't; Laura had just enough range to get him one more time.
It was after eleven before the boys finally admitted they'd had enough. Jefferson carried Bob home on his shoulder and Laura towed the toboggan with Andy on it. Jefferson made soup and hot dogs while Laura undid the layers of clothing and hung the wet things to dry. Bob's head nearly fell into the soup bowl and even Andy was visibly drooping when Laura carried him to bed.
"How asleep are they?" Jefferson asked from the balcony.
"They're pretty much comatose. Even Andy wanted a nap." Laura smiled into the room and blew the boys a kiss. She came out on the balcony, feeling the wind and snow sharply on her face. She felt very awake, very alive, sharply tuned to everything around her - gray sky, snow-heavy trees, the sweep of snow that was their backyard. "Aren't you freezing out here?" she said. The wind blew snow at them in great walls of fluff. Jefferson darted his head around and caught some flakes on his tongue.
"This is great," he said, looking closely at her. "But there's something greater."
"I know that look," Laura said. She was suddenly feeling very connected to Jefferson and to her own wants. But there was a game to this. She darted across the balcony, but Jefferson was faster. He caught her up and carried her into the bedroom. He sat heavily on the bed with her on his lap. Laura took his head in both hands and kissed him. Their tongues met in moist heat. Then she yelped. "That nose of yours is freezing!" she said. "Get it out of my neck until you warm it up. No, not there!" She laughed and hissed at the same time; Jefferson had put his nose on her stomach and was warming his hands on her back! He pulled them away and fell back on the bed, pulling her down onto him.
Laura felt sparks as Jefferson ran his hands through her long hair. She pushed against him, feeling his warm heaviness against her full breasts through their sweaters as if the cloth were tissue paper. "I sure hope they sleep through," she murmured.
"They'd better," Jefferson answered. His voice was muffled by her neck in his mouth. It was made husky by the want that had put his mouth there. Then he sat up suddenly, swinging her with him. Laura suddenly realized that he was holding both her wrists in one of his huge hands. "Now, who was belting me with snowballs an hour ago?" he asked in a dangerous voice.
"Was it Andy?" she asked with a giggle. She loved that dangerous voice; she knew where it led. She liked to go there. Even after ten years, spanking was on of her favorite games.
"I don't think so," Jefferson said. His free hand was at her waist and he was holding her hands to his chest. "That's a couple for lying to me. What do you deserve for throwing snowballs?"
"Oh, I was a bad, bad girl this morning, wasn't I?" Laura said. "I must deserve a lot for that. And then I lied, too. Oh, I'm a bad girl." 
"And you know what happens to bad girls," Jefferson said. Laura felt tugging at her waist as he opened her jeans. She felt a string of fire down her lower belly as he unzipped the soft, faded material.
"This always happens to me," Laura answered with another giggle. "I can't get away with anything."
"Well, it's not like you try," Jefferson said. He pulled the jeans open and Laura pushed her body against his hand as he stroked her white cotton panties. His finger on the top of her thigh was flicking a switch linked directly to her feminine heat. But it wasn't an On/Off switch; it was the On/On More switch. And it was working awfully well. Jefferson stood her up between his knees, holding her tightly by the wrists and with his knees against her waist. "Are you ready to take your medicine?" he asked.
"Oh, yes, daddy," she said. "I know it's for my own good." She smiled into his eyes, drinking in his smile and his greed.
"Then here it comes," he said. He pulled her jeans halfway down her thighs and suddenly pulled her across his lap. He had to let go of her wrists to do it and Laura clapped her hands over her bottom, trying to protect her panties. "Naughty, naughty," he said in a warning tone. 
"So what?" Laura answered in her best little-girl pout.
"Have it your way, then," Jefferson answered. "That's another couple for you." He wrestled with her for a minute or two. Laura felt his urgency growing against her belly, the swelling through his pants. Her sweater had come up just below her breasts and the erection was exciting through the denim and against the warm, bare skin of her belly.
It wasn't her only bare skin, she knew a moment later. One large hand held both her wrists again, gently pressed against the small of her back. The other was inside her panties and pulling urgently on them. The cool air of the bedroom was suddenly washing over her bottom and between her legs as he slid the panties down just below the cheeks he loved so much. A faster breeze gave her a moment's warning before the first slap stung her bottom lightly. "Oh, that hurts," she whispered in her little-girl voice. Jefferson, she knew, would never actually hurt her. It was all in the game. "Daddy, not so hard," she said.
"You get what you deserve," Jefferson said in his deepest voice.
"Hey, not too loud," she said. "Don't wake up the boys."
"Oh, yeah. Sorry," he said. His voice dropped to a whisper. "But that won't get you out of anything."
"I don't want it to," she whispered back. Another whistle of air; another light sting and a slapping noise. "Oo, oo, oo," she said.
He continued for a few more minutes. Each slap was lighter than the one before. Laura wiggled her hips against his lap, eager to feel his erection against herself. It was a little awkward; once or twice she was rewarded by Jefferson's grunt of surprise when the delicate flesh got caught in a bad position. Her bottom tingled more than it stung. Jefferson gave her one last slap and then the feeling changed. Warm, rough hands were cupping her bottom, molding and squeezing the firm-soft flesh. Her skin was very sensitive, partly from the spanking and partly from the cool air, and every movement flared along her spine. She shuddered with arousal, heat, need. "Oh, yes," she said. "You can do some more of that." "That" was the wash of his tongue, the murmur of his lips against her bottom and along her back. Laura felt every bud on his tongue as Jefferson licked each spine from her ribs down to her tailbone. His fingers were gliding along the sensitive area between the globes he was exploring, although he was still keeping away from the need that was growing wet between her thighs. She whimpered like a kitten as she heard his breath grow sharp and rough. Wool rubbed against her chest and her back, its roughness raising the buds on her breasts into hard points wanting to be touched. She wiggled around onto her back and pulled the sweater off, still in Jefferson's lap and in his warm embrace. 
Scorching lips and searing tongue flashed from Laura's throat to her navel, jumping over the catch that held her bra closed. She reached for it, but Jefferson was ahead of her. She threw her head back and sighed as she felt the tension around her chest give way and the fresh air washed over her breasts. Cool air contrasted sharply with eager hands that stroked her buds and moist heat that nibbled them. Laura shuddered and whimpered again as Jefferson drew his beard along the sides of her breasts, turning her so he could reach every part of her. Almost without knowing, she managed to ease each arm out and the bra fell in a pink froth to the floor. 
Jefferson stripped her feet next and rubbed them. His hands were warm and firm. Laura frantically worked the buttons out of his soft flannel shirt and practically tore his sweatshirt off from beneath the red plaid. "It's my show, partner," she said roughly. Her voice surprised her, deep and almost rasping with her want. "On your back, you beefy burrito love-slave," she said as she pushed him onto the bed. Laura stretched her full length along his, from his chin to his feet, scarcely knowing how her jeans twisted around her thighs or how Jefferson was drinking in the sight of her soft body. Laura pulled his pants open and tugged on them. "Give 'em up!" she said.
"Okay, they're yours," Jefferson answered, his own voice changing to the huskiness they only knew when they were alone like this. Laura stripped his jeans off and dropped them on the floor. Jefferson's hands were just as busy as he worked her pants off. "Hold on a second," he said, laughing. "We're getting in the way!" Laura calmed down just enough to let him strip the denim from her round thighs.
"Jefferson," she gasped. "Oh, here, please, lover." She pulled his hands to her thighs and flung herself onto him. She pressed her bare breasts against the thick fur of his chest. "My grizzly bear rug," she said as she kissed him. Her hair fell onto his chest and neck; his shuddering response came to her through the hair and her thighs. It sent a charge flying along her spine and down her arms. She was almost giddy with pleasure and with want. Jefferson's skilled hands were driving her wild between her legs, caressing her skin and the panties that he was trying to discard. Laura pulled her legs together on top of his thighs and sighed. The warmth of his body, from her neck right to her feet in an unbroken wave, was one of her greatest pleasures. It also let him slip her last garment down. Together they wiggled her out of the panties and managed to get his briefs out of the way.
Jefferson lay atop Laura now. His breath whistled along her throat and settled at the base of her neck. She felt damp warmth as he nibbled there. Somehow - she neither knew nor cared how - the spot he was licking was wired directly to the heart of her need and it was turning up the thermostat very fast. "Jefferson, Jefferson," she gasped as she wrapped her legs around his thighs. Her voice was almost a squeak now; his was barely a grunt. "Fill me, please."
His answer was indistinct; she smiled as she thought how he lost his voice whenever they made love. Sometimes for hours. But he responded as she had hoped. The first rush as he entered her rolled her over like a tornado, whirled her into the maelstrom where she knew only pleasure, Jefferson's and her own. The room had disappeared, the snowstorm was forgotten, even parenthood faded away as they renewed with their bodies the vows of their hearts. Primal emotions and perceptions drove all else away and Laura abandoned herself to the release that claimed her.
Jefferson followed her through the mystical gate in a few minutes. She felt herself caught up in heat and cool, flashes of light in darkness. Hours must surely have passed, she thought to herself, hours that were over before she knew it. But consciousness came again all too soon; the clock showed 2:30 as she slipped her jeans on and pulled her sweater back over her head. Jefferson lay sprawled under the blanket, snoring softly. "Just in time," she thought.
For a small voice was saying, "Mommy? I gotta go."