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something other than her spanked bottom, she stood as straight as she could, confident and flaunting. She even tilted her hips a little, teasing him with the promise of her sex.
    Julian laughed softly and shook his head, making his hair glint in the lamplight. "You're incorrigible." Taking her hand he drew her down onto his lap again, making her sit this time.
    Alice bit her lip. The denim of her husband's jeans was rough against her punished skin, stirring her spanked flesh anew. Yet still she shuffled, edging her tenderized thigh up close against his erection. He was huge and very hard, and despite his masterful act, he gave a little moan himself when she jostled herself against his arousal.
    "Uh oh, what do you think you're doing, Alice?" he warned, but there was a smile in his voice, and his mouth was soft and accepting when she leaned in for a kiss.
    For just a second or two, his lips yielded to her, and the sensation was as thrilling as it was confusing, their roles tilting like a see-saw. Then the world seemed to right itself again, and Julian slung one arm around her waist, and, with the other, cradled her jaw. His tongue plunged into her mouth and all was level again. With him in charge.
    He kissed her hard and long, mastering her with his mouth and tongue as much as he'd done with his hand, the action as erotic as the spanking had been, if not more so. Waves of lasciviousness surged through Alice, a tide of lewdness. Despite the pain in her bottom, she writhed through the kiss, pressing her parted thighs down against his lap, knowing she was wetting the denim beneath her with her dew. She'd been holding onto him hard with both arms, but even as they kissed, she released with one, and tugged at the buttons of her cotton cardigan, opening it down the front. Her breasts were smallish and firm, and her bra was flimsy. She pushed and tugged it down to reveal herself to him, offering him the sight and the naked feel of her hardened nipples.
    "Very nice. Very nice indeed," he whispered against her mouth, in between thrusts with is tongue, "I wonder if Mrs. Grayson was as naughty as you are. I'd like to think she sat on her hubby's lap afterwards so he could play with her pussy."
    "Oh, I'm sure she did," gasped Alice, her breath catching as Julian rolled one of her teats between his finger and thumb. The rough little action made her wriggle harder, and that made her bottom ache and burn. Between her legs, her clitoris throbbed, calling for contact.
    "Ask. Ask for what you want," Julian growled as if he'd read her mind again. Or perhaps he'd simply read her body.
    "Please… Please Julian will you stroke my clit and make me have an orgasm."
    His answer was one firm pinch to her nipple, which made her squeal, and then his hand sped swiftly to her sex, cupping it possessively. He didn't dive straight in, but just squeezed her pubis in a slow relentless rhythm.
    Oh please.
    The plea was silent this time, but Julian still heard her. Working with his long, nimble middle finger, he parted her thatch and slid through the curls, dividing her labia to find her clit.
    "Oh God… oh yes."
    Aware that she was babbling clichés, Alice laughed aloud as she came, almost immediately and very hard. Her hips jerked, lurching up as if spring-loaded, jamming her pussy against Julian's hand as waves of pleasure beat and crashed through her body. In violent motion, she barely felt her soreness. It was there, but wasn't pain any more, as she understood it. All sensation served the ecstasy of orgasm.
    Still chanting nonsense, she clamped her arms around her husband's neck, kissing more yeses and oh Gods against the side of his face, his ear and his soft, clean hair. She wasn't sure how long the climax lasted. It could've been seconds, but it felt like hours of bliss.
    Eventually, and inevitably, it ebbed, but not with a sense of let-down, or post coital tristesse . Alice floated back to reality with a smile on her face, a sense of peace and joy, and