You’d think after 23 years of marriage, they’d have had this down pat. Horny and favored by a cancelled meeting and light traffic, and with plans exchanged over increasingly heated texts, Sharon and Craig were seizing the opportunity for a bit of fun.
No one seemed to have told Cocoa she was surplus to requirements. At the sound of the first whap of Craig’s hand on Sharon’s upturned backside, the diminutive beast erupted from her sun-warmed spot by the curtains in a flurry of indignant and furious barking; her owner clearly in need of immediate rescue from the leather pant-clad man who had her bent over the bed. It quite threw Craig off his game, what with the manly squeal he let out and all.
“Jesus!”
He jumped back to save his ankles. All those walks spent trailing after her with a plastic bag like some demented courtier and this was the thanks he got.
“Cocoa, out!” Sharon ordered.
“Please, please”, pleaded Craig. Man and dog engaged in a standoff on opposite sides of the bed until frustration and a quite pressing desire to return to scheduled activities made him pounce. That dog was fast for a little thing.
“Dammit. She’s gone under the bed.”
He lifted the edge of
of the floral quilt near the end of the bed and looked for the snarling and fitzing escapee.
“She’s behind all the crap you have stored under here. I didn’t know you bought an ab-ercizer.”
Cocoa backed up further and continued barking.
“Can you reach her? Maybe she’ll go out for a dog treat.”
“She’ll go out if she wants to live, that’s what she’ll do. Your dog, I swear…”
Craig struggled to lean over, the leather protesting the move.
“Did you shrink these in the wash or something? I can’t bend in these pants. How can I look under the damn bed if I can’t bend over?”
Sharon pushed herself up, laughing hard as she did so.
“Good living, that’s what that is. Leave her. Come on” she straightened up, “Lounge room.”
Craig guarded the escape route as Sharon shuffled out, still giggling, her trousers and underwear at her knees.
“You can stop that cackling, you brat.”
Pulling the door shut, he could not resist landing a couple of smacks on her rounded cheeks as she passed, spurring Cocoa into a renewed volley on the other side of the door.
Now gracing the well-padded arm of the couch, Sharon wriggled and looked over her shoulder. Craig adjusted himself as much as the snug leather would allow. Catching her look, he gave a wolfish grin and flexed his fingers before smacking his hands together in mock menace, causing Sharon to squeal and wriggle harder.
“Oh you are so for it, my girl. Ready?”
Sharon nodded and smiled, loving this now as ever, even with the distraction provided by everyday realities.
She squawked as his hand landed, and continued to land in time with Cocoa’s bark.
“That dog’s good for something”, Craig purred, raising his hand again. “She keeps damn good rhythm.”
******
No one seemed to have told Cocoa she was surplus to requirements. At the sound of the first whap of Craig’s hand on Sharon’s upturned backside, the diminutive beast erupted from her sun-warmed spot by the curtains in a flurry of indignant and furious barking; her owner clearly in need of immediate rescue from the leather pant-clad man who had her bent over the bed. It quite threw Craig off his game, what with the manly squeal he let out and all.
“Jesus!”
He jumped back to save his ankles. All those walks spent trailing after her with a plastic bag like some demented courtier and this was the thanks he got.
“Cocoa, out!” Sharon ordered.
“Please, please”, pleaded Craig. Man and dog engaged in a standoff on opposite sides of the bed until frustration and a quite pressing desire to return to scheduled activities made him pounce. That dog was fast for a little thing.
“Dammit. She’s gone under the bed.”
He lifted the edge of
of the floral quilt near the end of the bed and looked for the snarling and fitzing escapee.
“She’s behind all the crap you have stored under here. I didn’t know you bought an ab-ercizer.”
Cocoa backed up further and continued barking.
“Can you reach her? Maybe she’ll go out for a dog treat.”
“She’ll go out if she wants to live, that’s what she’ll do. Your dog, I swear…”
Craig struggled to lean over, the leather protesting the move.
“Did you shrink these in the wash or something? I can’t bend in these pants. How can I look under the damn bed if I can’t bend over?”
Sharon pushed herself up, laughing hard as she did so.
“Good living, that’s what that is. Leave her. Come on” she straightened up, “Lounge room.”
Craig guarded the escape route as Sharon shuffled out, still giggling, her trousers and underwear at her knees.
“You can stop that cackling, you brat.”
Pulling the door shut, he could not resist landing a couple of smacks on her rounded cheeks as she passed, spurring Cocoa into a renewed volley on the other side of the door.
Now gracing the well-padded arm of the couch, Sharon wriggled and looked over her shoulder. Craig adjusted himself as much as the snug leather would allow. Catching her look, he gave a wolfish grin and flexed his fingers before smacking his hands together in mock menace, causing Sharon to squeal and wriggle harder.
“Oh you are so for it, my girl. Ready?”
Sharon nodded and smiled, loving this now as ever, even with the distraction provided by everyday realities.
She squawked as his hand landed, and continued to land in time with Cocoa’s bark.
“That dog’s good for something”, Craig purred, raising his hand again. “She keeps damn good rhythm.”
******
No comments:
Post a Comment