by Maggie Ryan
"No taller than the hay bales, huh?" he said and, at her shrug, he shook his head. Plucking the red ribbon of her chemise, he felt her begin to quiver as one after another, he undid the bows until the halves fell apart, exposing her breasts, each tipped by tightly puckered, raspberry colored nipples. Once she was completely naked, he watched her skin break out in gooseflesh and saw her tremble. "Hmm, it appears that all those clothes didn't keep you as warm as you'd believed. Looks like I'm going to have to warm up a great deal more than I'd planned." Bending, he kissed her, pressing his tongue between her lips as her hands reached up to wrap around his neck. It wasn't that long ago that she'd been mortified to be standing nude in his arms and yet now, after months of tender care and infinite patience, she not only kissed him with passion, she pressed her body against his as if anxious to begin.
"You know, I've read that the best way to get warm is body heat," she said, pulling back a bit.
"I've heard the same," he agreed, watching her expression as he quirked his eyebrow. "And, little girl, I think the fastest way to heat your body is to apply my hand to your cold behind." He could practically hear the gears turning in her head. "And, if you attempt to convince me that you aren't cold now, I will take you outside, plunk you down into a snowbank and then warm you up."
"Oh, that won't be necessary. I am feeling a bit chilly, sir," she said quickly.
"That's what I thought," he said, giving her a grin as he led her to the bed and patted the surface.
"Hands right here, and this," he said, patting her bottom, "well up."
"Wyatt… by body heat I meant…"
"My game, remember?" he said and saw her roll her eyes. "And that just earned you another penalty." He loved teasing her and watching her wonder exactly how far he intended this game to go. It was time to warm her before she did catch cold. "Face down." Once she'd laid her cheek against the quilt, between her hands, he ran his palm over the hillocks of her ass. "How many feet taller do you think that slope was than the ones your pa took you down?"
Her gasp told him that she had no desire to even hazard a guess. "Shall we do the math? A hay bale is approximately eighteen inches but, for ease, let's say it's two feet. That's generous, don't you think?"
"Um, yes, I suppose," she said.
"Good, so there were what, three bales that day, so that's six feet—"
"There were four," she interrupted. "I mean, before that one fell."
"That's right because when it fell, I could easily look over them to see my naughty little wife on the other side. All right, eight feet." He continued to rub his hand over her bottom, smiling when she began to push her hips up and back as if asking for more. "How far do you think we walked up that mountain today?"
"That little hill?" she tried again, only to smile when he chuckled, obviously not buying it.
"Darlin', I might not know about sledding, but I assure you I know a mountain range when I see one. Let's call it a quarter a mile, though I'm willing to bet it was further. Sound fair?"
"I-I guess."
"And how many feet are there in a mile?"
"Why?"
"Because, my love, for every foot over eight feet, that's how many swats this beautiful little backside will receive."
"Oh! I… I don't know. Twenty?"
His laugh rang out loudly. "Some little girl didn't get high marks in mathematics, did she? As I recall, there are 5,280 feet in a mile."
Her eyes flew wide and she shook her head. "No, that can't be right!"
"I assure you, it is. So, 1,320 feet for a quarter mile, minus eight feet is… 1,312 feet, correct?"
"Oh my God," she said, "I… you… no…"
He placed both hands on her buttocks and gave them a squeeze. "Since I'm a big enough man to admit that I actually enjoyed that stunt, how about we make a deal?"
"Anything," she promptly answered, nodding her head vigorously. Her inhalation was audible as he pulled one of the globes of her behind away from its twin. "Wha-what are you doing?"
"Seeing the beautiful divide in your naughty bottom gave me an idea. Do you know what it is?"
"I-I'm not sure…" Her exhalation was just as loud as he pressed his thumb against her previously concealed opening before raking his fingernail around the crinkled skin.
"Then let me clarify. Let's divide that by, say, a hundred. How many swats would that leave you?"
She didn't immediately answer and he had to bite back a chuckle, knowing that she'd not been considering anything as mundane as mathematical problems. He ran his finger up and down the cleft of her ass, dipping down to trace the seam of her sex and returning to press against her anus.
"Agatha?"
"Oh… um, thirteen… um with a-a little left over."
"Ah, so you do know your math. I'm feeling generous, so let's consider it an even thirteen," he suggested. Removing his finger, he allowed her cheeks to close. "Of course, since both of your little hills were seated on that sled, I'm sure you understand that each one must pay equally. What do you think?"
"I'm not exactly sure I understand your logic, dearest husband," she said, turning her head to look back at him, her cheeks very flushed. "Besides, most of the time I was sitting on your lap… not on the sled."
"I so adore you," he said with a grin. "Facing a spanking and yet still full of that sass that I so love." He chuckled as she huffed and then he gave both of her buttocks a little squeeze. "We shall call this game, Agatha's Slope. Count these as my hand bounces down to land on each of your own snowy white hillocks until they are the same pretty shade of pink as your face."
"Wyatt!" she said, her cheeks flushing even darker at his words.
"I so love hearing you call my name," he said, lifting his hand and beginning.
***
Agatha's mind was still reeling from his supposedly generous offer, her body tingling from his play in her most private place but when she felt his palm lifting from her skin, she braced herself for the first swat and when it came, she smiled. "One." He was spanking her, but he wasn't punishing her. "Two… three…" she continued to count each one and it wasn't long before she was pushing her hips up higher. At ten, she felt the delicious heat transferring from her backside to settle between her legs. At fifteen, she was wagging her hips a bit as the burn intensified, the swats a bit harder, and doing a good job of both warming her flesh and stoking the fire that he could always build within her, one that only he could extinguish.
"Ow, twenty!" she said, her hand going back to attempt a little rub against the spot just spanked, knowing he would be giving her the next on the other side. Perhaps it hadn't been such a good idea to leave out the fact that her pa had never allowed her to sled down tall slopes.
"Naughty," he said, reaching for her hand and giving it a squeeze before pinning it to her lower back. "Only a few more and then, I do believe, your arse will be quite well heated, my dear."
"Twenty-six," she said a few minutes later, wondering if her friends were ever required to count swats during a spanking. She began to rise only to feel his hand pressing harder against her lower back.
"Did you forget that little eye roll earned you extra?"
"Oh… I-I did," she admitted truthfully.
"An additional half dozen should keep my naughty little wife's mind focused," he said, rubbing his hand over her right cheek.
Crack! Crack! Crack! Crack!
"Ow! That hurt!" she said, her back arching as her head lifted off the bed.
"I'm afraid I'm unfamiliar with that number…"
"I meant thirty!"
Crack!
"Thirty-one!"
"That's my good girl." His hand returned to soothe her reddened skin, fingers pausing to give the tender flesh a squeeze, causing her to moan. "Last one." This was the loudest crack of all, sounding exactly like his rifle did when he pulled the trigger.
"Thirty-two! Ow!" she yelped, her hips wagging up and down.
"Is your bottom warm?"
Looking over h
er shoulder, she knew her face most likely turned the color of her bottom—bright red—but she didn't care. "Yes, sir, but, Wyatt?"
"Hmm?"
"I'm really cold… inside." That was the absolute truth. All she wanted, make that desperately needed, was to feel her husband push inside her.
"We can't have that can we?" he said, grinning as he released the hand he was still holding and unbuttoned the fly of his trousers to release his cock. She swallowed hard, moisture dripping from her core at the sight of his erection.
"No, sir," she agreed, pushing herself up from the bed. She only got halfway before his hand pushed her down again.
"I didn't say you could get up. Spread your legs."
Her stomach spasmed and her sex clenched at his order even as she spread her legs a couple of inches.
"No, baby, spread them wide."
She obeyed.
"That's my good girl," he praised and caused her to groan as the palm that had just spanked her cupped her sex. "My, what a wet little girl you are, Agatha. Don't you think it's quite naughty to be dripping when you are getting your bottom spanked?"
She was positive her facial cheeks' color now surpassed the crimson stain of her nether cheeks at his order, and yet she felt another rush of her arousal leaking from her body. "Please, sir… please!"
He'd never taken her in this position, her cheek pressed to the mattress, her freshly spanked ass high. She felt his cockhead pressing against her slick opening, expecting him to enter her, and yet she needed to learn that her husband was not one to follow any expectation. Instead, she felt him sliding his cock up and down her slit, the tip nudging against her swollen clit with every pass. Whimpering, she attempted to follow it, to capture it between her pussy lips, to force it up inside her empty channel.
"Naughty," he said, drawing back so there was no contact even as he bent over her frame. "My game, remember?"
"Ye-yes, sir, but… please, I need…"
"To let me lead," he supplied, placing a kiss on the side of her neck and then nipping her earlobe. Pulling away, he again slid his shaft along her sex until she swore she could feel her toes curling with desperate need and her nipples aching from being pressed against the quilt's surface.
"Pull your cheeks apart," he said, continuing to stroke his shaft along her soaking slit.
"Wha-what?"
Crack!
"You heard me. Pull those little red globes apart." Her hands, which had been clutching at the sheets, fluttered back behind her. Dropping a finger to her sex, he circled her clitoris. "Show me your little secret hole."
"Wya… Wyatt…"
Crack!
"Ow… yes, sir!" His cock continued to slide as her fingertips slid into the divide of her bottom and slowly dragged them apart.
"Good girl. Wider, please." Once she had obeyed, the finger he'd used to stroke her little nub slid across her cunny, gathering even more of her cream and then moving up to her back entrance. He slowly pressed it inside, loving her mew as he continued until it was buried as deep as it would go. "Such a good girl." Wiggling his finger for a moment, he pulled it out only to add a second, scissoring them to encourage her tight muscle to relax.
"I don't know," he said, pushing both deep as she groaned. "It feels pretty warm to me. But my fingers are only so long." He thrust a few more times, in and out, stretching, pushing, delving deep until she was pushing up, mewing yet again. "I so want to please my wife, to fulfill her request to warm her. How fortunate that I have a much longer appendage to test the temperature of this incredible ass." As his fingers had played, he'd pressed just the smallest bit into her cunt to coat the mushroom shaped head of his cock. It took but a single breath to remove his fingers from her ass, replacing them with his shaft.
A scream split the air as he thrust into her and pulled her up at the same time. One arm slid around her waist, holding her to his chest, his fingers pinching and tugging on pebbled nipples, while the other kept her hands pinned between them as he began to fuck her in earnest. She had exploded within three strokes and could already feel another climax building as he took her as he desired. Each thrust upwards almost took her off her feet, her head thrown back against his shoulder, his fingers busy at her breasts, the taut peaks pulled and twisted until she was writhing against him. She got a hand free and lifted it to place it around his neck. With that, he released her other hand so he could give both her breasts the attention she craved and he loved to provide.
"Come for me again," he demanded, pulling out and thrusting up into her heat again. "I want to hear you scream as you spend. Play with your cunny."
"Wha-what?"
"Put your hands between your legs and play with yourself. I want you to pinch your little clit like I'm pinching your titties. Slip a finger inside your cunt and feel all the cream your body produces when we play. Do it, Aggy. Play with yourself. I want you to feel how your cunt clamps down around your fingers when you come as I feel your ass convulse around my cock."
Never having done anything of the sort, she hesitated, and yet she could feel the small bundle of nerves seeming to pulse harder, as if guiding her to the destination he'd indicated.
"Aggy, it's all right. Obey me. It will pleasure me knowing you are pleasuring yourself. I want you to touch yourself—I love the way you moan when I pinch your clit."
Part of her wanted to say she couldn't, and yet she was suddenly desperate to see what it would be like… the naughtiness of his command having her shaking her head even as she slid her hand down her body and past the curls of her pubic hair. Her fingers were hesitant at first, sliding through her copious moisture, but when they landed on her clit, she gasped and jerked.
"That's my good girl. Now, let's finish playing the game together. Slip a finger deeply in your pussy as you play with your clit."
Her fingers slid over and around her bud and when she felt her body beginning to coil yet again, she moved to slide a finger into her body, blushing hotly as she brushed against his cock that immediately drove back into her bottom. Her clit jumped, her sex spasmed knowing he was in a place that was so private, so intimate, so… so dark. At the next withdrawal and thrust of his cock, she plunged a finger into her cunt, the entry made easy as she'd been dripping from the moment she begun to undress. Matching her movements to his, discovering how to rub her clit while finger-fucking herself, she wasn't positive she was still breathing.
"Wyatt…" she gasped as he filled her again and again.
"Aggy," he said, pulling almost out and, at her soft mew, thrusting hard to bury himself fully.
"Oh… I'm-I'm going to… to come," she gasped. "Please…"
"We'll come together," he said, filling her, pumping his hips and tugging on nipples that remained rock hard.
Suddenly, the coil sprang, her body convulsing, jerking, flooding the finger… her finger invading her sex and clamping around the cock still pounding in her bottom. Screaming his name, she heard her own as he yelled just as loudly as he flooded her with his release.
He continued to thrust several more times before releasing her breasts and gently bending down, guiding her to once more bend over the bed. She felt him pulling from her and only then, her cheeks flushing, did she remove her own finger. Her husband, her wonderful, magnificent husband dropped onto the bed, rolled onto his back, and pulled her onto him. It was another several minutes before either of them spoke.
"Oh, my," Agatha said. "That… that was…"
"Better than sledding?"
She giggled and lifted her head from where she'd had it pressed against his heart. "Well…" A quick swat of a hand capable of practically covering the entirety of her ass had her squeal, "Yes, definitely better!"
He grinned and pulled her up his body until he could kiss her thoroughly, only seeming to remember she was naked when she shivered. Sitting up, he pulled back the quilts and tucked her beneath them.
"We have chores to do," she reminded him even as her eyelids fluttered.
"They can wa
it," he assured her, stripping out of his clothes and diving beneath the covers.
"Wyatt!" she screeched when he pressed his cold feet against her recently warmed buttocks.
"Yup, do so love hearing my name."
Chapter Five
Awakening and smiling as she stretched like a contented kitten, Agatha suddenly realized that she could hear voices. Scrambling out of the bed, she quickly pulled on her clothes. It was one thing to be naked while in bed with her husband, it was quite a different thing to loll about while they had company. Once presentable, she was about to push the partially opened door but paused at hearing Roger's voice.
"I don't know what made me madder. The fact that Teresa still acts as if she did absolutely nothing wrong or that her pa questioned my honor."
Fearing that the conversation would cease the moment the men realized she was awake, she froze, her palm on the door and her head tilted, hearing Roger continue.
"The man actually threatened to get his shotgun and a preacher! Can you believe that!"
"Well, since you aren't bleeding, I'm guessing he didn't?"
"No, but it took some rapid talking. Of course, I can't say I blame him. Half the damn town heard me threaten to tan her hide."
Wyatt chuckled and said, "Since you are obviously still riled up, I'm guessing you didn't follow through?"
"How could I? I mean, hell, I could see the man's finger twitching and all I could think about was that shotgun's trigger. I can't imagine he would have even hesitated if he thought I was gonna lay a hand on his little princess."
"Perhaps if her pa had taken her to task a time or two, she wouldn't have been so quick to dismiss any responsibility for what happened."
"I admit I've had the same thought once or twice since I started courting her. Anytime I've even begun to scold her, she acts like I'm speaking a foreign language."
"There's one language that I guarantee she'd understand," Wyatt offered.
From behind the door, Agatha rolled her eyes. Trust her husband to not only voice but to truly believe that a spanking was the solution for all of a woman's transgressions.
