Chloe – Part 2

Continued from Chloe

Karen’s stomach flipped as she pulled at the large wooden door and stepped into the dim warmth of Umberto’s. Thank God that they were busy-Chef wouldn’t have much time to spend with her and she could get in, collect Chloe and get out. She was standing at the end of the bar blinking against the half-light when Marie appeared at her shoulder squeezing her arm.

“Hi honey”, she said gently kissing her on the cheek. Then with a shrug and eye-roll, “She’s back here.” Karen followed through the dining room and only hesitated for a quick breath before sliding through the swinging doors to the kitchen, embarrassed for a quick moment that all she cared about was how her hair looked.

She saw him before he saw her and the flip her stomach did when she walked into the place, returned. And spread to her chest. The salt and pepper goatee, the muscled arms swelling against his black T-shirt reminded her immediately of why she had to leave here.

It only took a second before he noticed her. “Hey-Beniamina. Come stai? How you doin’?”

“Hi Tony-great to see you”, she kept her smile tight and professional-not wanting to offer much. “Not under these conditions though.”

Tony gave her a quick-but not perfunctory-hug, coiling his thick arms around her for a moment. “Kids’ll kill you, you let them,” he said releasing her and taking her hands as if she were a long-lost friend. “You shoulda had a boy-they love their mothers.” Then he shrugged. “Want to kill their fathers, but hey, that’s the way. You had a boy, you’d be the queen mother instead of the wicked witch. Girl will fight a mother straight through till they’re both women-then it’s like they’re sisters. Trick is surviving till then. “

Karen wished she was listening but all she could do was watch his mouth, the straight porcelain white teeth, lush tongue rolling every vowel, Adam’s apple bouncing between the cords of his neck. Then there was the familiar whiff of cloves on his breath that he used to cover the occasional cached cigarette.  Jesus.

“You look great”, she heard him say. “You still in the business?”

“No. Got my CPA-working in finance.”

“Ach-numbers”, Tony threw up a hand.

“Keeps me off my feet all day.”

“You ever want to dip your toe back in, call me.”

Karen shifted on her feet as the small talk wound down. “Here”, said Tony, reaching into a pocket on his apron. He handed her the check that Chloe’s group walked out on.

“Impressive”, she said frowning. “And wine too. I’m sure none of them are of age.”

“That’s another issue. One that I’m taking up with their server Lynette. She’s good. New, but not that new.”

“I’ll pay this, of course.”

“You of course will not. I’ll take care of it. You might tip Lynette though-she has enough to worry about right now.”

“Of course.”

Standing here in front of Tony was actually worse than she thought it would be. She had no idea what he was thinking right then but her mind, in spite of everything else going on right now, slid directly to his cock. She wondered if it was stiffening as he spoke to her. She was conscious of hoping that it was. She actually glanced at the tile floor feeling the cold ceramic on her knees as she imagined dropping and dipping her head under his apron to gnaw at it like a sausage in denim casing.

Karen knew-or assumed as everyone else did because there wasn’t a newsletter-that Chef and his wife had an “understanding” and as far as she knew, again assumed, it extended only to spanking the help. She’d heard also that his wife started that thing when she worked with him at their first place.

She’d heard he had a “special” relationship with this one or that one over the years but not as special as the one Karen wanted to have with him. He resisted her pretty well over the three years she was here but she knew she would wear him down over time-which is why she left Umberto’s. She obviously didn’t mind ruining her own marriages but didn’t want to ruin his. That was her story then anyway.

“So where is the master thief?”

Tony nodded. “Office.”

As she turned away she felt his hand on her bicep, “You know how they say that the sins of the father are visited on the sons right?”

“I’ve heard, yes.”

“The reverse can sometimes also be true”. He winked and squeezed her arm before turning back to his post. She felt the heat rising in her cheeks. Don’t blush, she repeated over and over like a mantra, as she blushed and swallowed a breath.

Chloe looked too big for the chair she was sitting in. She was wearing the blue and gold madras skirt she had appropriated from Karen for the cheerleaders Night at the Races fundraiser a few months before. Karen knew that she wouldn’t be seeing that skirt again except on Chloe but she was fine with it. Since last winter’s growth spurt she could wear her mother’s clothes and lord knows she had enough for both of them.

Sitting there she looked twenty-five to the casual observer but upon a mother’s closer inspection there was the defiant teenager in her sullen look. She studied the floor in front of her twisting a blonde lock between the fingers of her left hand, completely ignoring the fact that there was someone else in the room with her.

“So”, Karen asked evenly, “How was your day?”

“Don’t! I’m not in the mood”, she scowled back.

“Really Chloe? Really?”

Karen felt a stab in her throat and a tightness constricting her windpipe. If she spoke again, she would squeak. She looked away and started counting-something Deena had told her to do. “One, one-thousand, Two, one-thousand, Three…”

As she pulled her eyes from her daughter, she noticed the wooden spatula on top of the filing cabinet. Hanging in the kitchen with everything else it was an innocuous piece of cookware. But in here-sitting alone atop a filing cabinet-there was no mistaking it’s intent. Had he brought it in here waiting for the end of Lynette’s shift or had he, over the last few years, just abandoned all pretense and kept it in here.

Or maybe…was it possible he left it here for her. Did he bring it in here with Chloe as a suggestion to how to deal with her recalcitrant daughter? If he had, Karen didn’t know how she felt about that.  But still… she reached over her daughter and picked it up, held it-something she’d never done before. She knew what the flat end felt like in application of course, but never held it by the handle. She turned it in her wrist and studied the woodgrain darkened by years of stirring.

“Mom?” she heard Chloe say from far away.

It was lighter that Karen would have assumed as she waved it easily, gently, through the air subtly pantomiming a batter swatting a ball down the first base line. That wasn’t the motion Chloe was seeing of course and Karen was fine with that.

“Mom!” came that voice again. When Karen deigned to look her way, her daughter’s eyes were bright and wide-no hint of the hooded sullenness that took up her face minutes before. Her eyes weren’t leaving what Karen had in her hand. “Can we leave?”

“There’s a lock on this door”, Karen said calmly.

“No!” Chloe said quickly grabbing the sides of the chair as if to attach herself to it. “No, Mom!”

Karen made a show of trying to decide what to do. She glanced at the door, hefted the spatula then looked back at Chloe’s wide pleading face. She noticed the spattering of freckles across her nose and the dampness in her glistening eyes.

“Can’t we just leave? Please?”

Karen wasn’t exactly proud of how good she felt eliciting this feeling of fear in her daughter but for the first time in a couple of weeks she felt she had the girl’s attention. She was inclined to not beat herself up too much over it and call if even for the countless missed curfews and various other things Chloe had done to drive her crazy. Yeah, she’d call it even for now but….

“Sure”, she said putting the spatula back on the filing cabinet. “We can leave, but this discussion is not over.”

“Sure…OK”, she said quickly, eschewing the snide “whatever….” she typically would have thrown in.

On the way out, Marie pointed them to Lynette-a small, bright athletic type with a thick shock of silver hair done in a boyish cut. Nothing boyish about her body though and impossibly young looking though Karen was learning that the older she got, the younger everyone else looked.

“How much you have in your wallet?” Karen asked her daughter.

“I don’t know…about thirty bucks.”

“Give it to her”, she nodded to Lynette. “Never stiff a waitress.”

Without a question, Chloe handed over the money with a quick apology-a nice touch that Karen hadn’t expected.

“I’m sorry”, Lynette told Karen, eyes bright. “…I should have carded them. It’s just that we were so busy….”

“It’s OK”, said Karen. “It happens…” The poor kid was probably apologizing to everyone thinking it might bank her something when she met with the boss later. Karen knew that it wouldn’t.

To be continued…

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Chloe

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The soft faraway piano tinkling of Karen Porter’s cell phone barely reached her in the warm space where she floated weightless in swirling peach pinks and muted oranges around cottony white clouds. She fancied lifting her head but, not really wanting to leave her sweet quiet place failed, slipping further under the surface. When the phone sang again moments later, it roused Deena Jackson from what had almost been a deep sleep. She started with a snort and clamped her mouth closed-afraid she had been snoring or was about to start. Flat on her back, she lifted her head off the pillows to look up over Karen’s nude body lying face down-head to foot-beside her.

The soft, downy fur, invisible in normal light, ignited like countless tiny candles across Karen’s bottom and legs in the late afternoon sunshine leaking around the blinds. Deena pried her tingling arm from beneath both of them and gently-but not too gently-scraped her fingernails across her friend’s bottom. Karen mewed a muffled complaint.

“Phone”, said Deena, grabbing a thumb and finger-full of soft flesh threatening a pinch.

Karen groaned and reached without lifting her head and pulled the phone to her ear without having yet opened her eyes. “Hullo”, she said trying and failing to sound as if she hadn’t just been pulled out of a deeply satisfying post orgasm nap.

After a few “un-huh’s” and a “what did she do?” Deena felt Karen’s body tense beside her. She had lifted her head and was up on her elbows, blonde hair cascading over her shoulders. Deena wanted to reach up and stroke her hair but was reluctant to peel herself away from Karen’s body-something that was going to happen soon enough given the feel of the one-sided conversation she was hearing.

“Okay”, she said finally. “Thanks Chef. I’m across town. I’ll be over there in twenty….No…that’s fine. I owe you big time. Thanks!”

Karen and Deena had been lovers since college. They were barely friends that one depressing weekend when it seemed the whole freshman dorm had gone home and they were both magnificently homesick. Deena had long ago taken credit for making the first move and knocking on the leggy blonde’s door with a cheap bottle of wine. Karen conceded the point but swore that it was her fingernail sized sliver of hash that relaxed her enough to say “yes” when Deena had asked to kiss her.

However it began, neither could have foreseen that one lonely weekend could birth a love affair that would span Deena’s two tours in Iraq, cross-country separations, Karen’s two broken marriages, countless lovers and other strangers. Whether it was after a week, a month or some longer seemingly interminable time apart, they were each others’ North Star, shining brightly to bring them back on course when life pulled them away.

Their most recent challenge has been Chloe, Karen’s seventeen year old daughter from her first marriage. She had always been a sweet if willful kid who recently seemed to be losing her mind, growing into a sociopath or had been recruited by some terrorist organization with the instruction to drive all adults in her orbit, mad.

Karen sighed as she replaced the phone on the bedside table and pulled herself to her knees stretching backward. Deena took advantage of the positioning to rub her hand over Karen’s backside and down between her legs. “My-O-My”, she said.

“What?” Karen asked, her face buried in the pillow.

“Amazing that your ass looks the same as it did the first time I laid hands on it twenty years ago.”

“That’s sweet. A shame about your eyesight though…”

Karen rose and turned, tossing a leg over, straddling Deena.

“Gotta go. So don’t want to.” She dipped her head and kissed her soft lips gently.

“What did she do?”

“Tried to skip on a bill at Umberto’s. “

“What?”

“Bunch of kids, that asshole she’s dating…”

“She knows you worked there right?”

“Oh yeah. She remembers. It wasn’t that long ago.”

Karen pushed herself reluctantly off the bed with a sigh. “This too shall pass…”

Deena grabbed her by the wrist. “It’s a test, is all.”

“Yeah, but I get the feeling I’m failing.”

“Long way to go sweetheart…you’re not even at halftime…” Then, as Karen moved away from the bed, “Jump in the shower first.”

“Really?”

“Honey, I love it. If I could, I’d bottle the way you smell now and make air fresheners out of it. But baby, you ain’t subtle.”

Karen squeezed her toe and was off to the bathroom. She wouldn’t wet her hair, just rinse what was needed. Her mother used to call it a whore-bath; could be attended to at the sink. She was a real pill, that one.

To Be Continued…

The Norwegians – Part 6

(Continued from The Norwegians – Part 5)

When she heard the click of a door closing behind them Jessica sat bolt upright. “Does she live here?” she asked wide-eyed.

Angie was distracted by the girl’s round breasts jumping as the breathed the words. Her nipples had softened from the tiny bullets they were earlier which made them even more succulent. All she wanted to do was put one of them in her mouth and Angie usually got exactly what she wanted. But, with some effort, she held back in a rare display of self-control.

“No-she stays here from time to time.” Her blonde locks flicked lightly as she nodded in the direction Toni had left. “In the guest room. One of them anyway.”

Jessica relaxed a little. “Are you guys….” She stuck on the word and shuffled the cards looking for the right one. Angie moved imperceptibly closer drawn at the moment by the soft skin between Jess’ firm round girls. She could almost feel the cleavage with her mind’s tongue.

“Lovers?”

“I was gonna say ‘together’….”

“That’s a nothing word-what’s that even mean?”

Impulsively Jessica reached over and poked Angie in the arm. “You know what I mean.”

“Poking now, are we?” Angie in turn reached out and poked her in the arm. Then Jessica, then Angie again-but before Jessica could reach across again, she saw the fire in the blonde’s eyes and the direction of her gaze. She dropped her defenses, if that’s what you can call the threat of an aggravated poke in the arm, and leaned backward slightly-offering.

Angie gently touched her left breast and softly nudged the nipple with her thumb. It stiffened immediately. Jess let the hand loll there and closed her eyes enjoying the touch.

“So you guys….” Jess began.

“Jesus” Angie sighed, feigning aggravation. “I’ve known her since I was six”, she answered without answering the question.

“Huh” said Jessica. “At least she grew since then”.

“Oh-a short joke!”

Angie released her breast and poked her in the arm again, an attack that was answered in kind. They were giggling like schoolgirls in a pillow fight until Angie snatched Jessica’s nipple again-this time with a twinkle in her eyes that foretold something more than a fondle.

“You rat!”

“Rat? Who says Rat?”

“Don’t. You. Do. It”, Jessica said looking down at the fingers pinching her nipple.

“Or what?”

“You have a bottom made for spanking, girl.”

Their eyes met and in an instant settled into an understanding that there was no need to rush. What had begun this afternoon would continue.

“Ahhh…” Angie released the nipple. “Ok for now, then. Are you hungry?”

“I can tell you are.”

“For FOOD.”

“Starved.”

“Go jump in the shower-or at least wipe my cum off your face.” Jessica’s hand leapt to her face. “Just kidding-leave it. Or I’ll lick it off.”

Jessica unwound her legs and stood. “Give me ten minutes”, she said before impulsively reaching down to kiss Angie on the cheek. She watched her go seeing no evidence of the spanking but a thin wrinkle across her butt from the seam of the couch. She imagined running her tongue over it.

 

(To Be Continued…)

 

The Norwegians-Part 4

(Continued from The Norwegians – Part 3)

Standing, with her left pressing down on the small of Jessica’s back, Angie delivered smack after smack of varying force-some cupping and loving, some flat handed and loud. It seemed that Jessica’s writhing had very little to do with the severity of the smacks and indeed, when one wasn’t delivered the girl wriggled backward and upward-seeking the hand. Which always came back with a deliciously resounding “SWAT”, and the answering mewl.

Rolling against the pinioning hand, Jessica slid onto her hip and began answering the smacks with subtle-then less so-leg movements. Angie delighted in the sounds and the show that the girl’s cycling movements were giving her.

“You are wriggling a lot for just a hand spanking….

“I can’t help it….”

“When was the last time you were spanked?” In the pause for the conversation, Jessica still undulated her hips and moved her legs alluringly as if treading water while holding onto a dock.

“I…don’t know…I had to be 11 or so….”

“Your dad?”

“No my mom…”

“What was that like?”

“Nothing like this…”she blurted with half a giggle happily admitting to enjoying something she wasn’t looking forward to.

“That’s good, I guess.”

“Very…” she breathed into the bed. Every smack vibrated downward between her legs and settled there. She understood now the feeling she had when seeing Carrie the receptionist spread out over Dr. Greene’s knees. It wasn’t embarrassment, it wasn’t fear…it was this particular lust that she didn’t really understand until just now.

Angie sat on the bed facing Jessica’s feet and wrapped her arm tightly around her waist. And continued.

“OW! OW! OW!”

“Do you want more?”

“Yes! I want more. Jesus, yes!”

“Hairbrush time?”

“Yes!”

Angie reached across the girl’s heaving back for the brush. At the very touch of the cool wood to her warm bottom Jessica bucked forward.

“Easy, girl”, Angie cooed and brought the paddle lightly down, the resounding “SWAT!” louder and firmer than anything previous. Answering, Jessica’s cries changed in timbre from light and girlish to something deeper and more guttural. What didn’t change was her bottom’s reaching-upward and upward seeking the blows, reveling in the heat and buzz they brought.

But as skillful and attentive as she was, Angie was not above getting lost in the moment. She wondered at the heaving buttocks blossoming from pale and smooth through pink and to a deeper red. She concentrated on the bottom of the cheeks and the confluence of bum and legs where she knew her charge was vibrating at every blow. She paused in her tattoo and lay her hand on the pulsing warmth that rivaled what she felt coming from between her own legs.

“Are you crying?”

“A little.”

“Are you OK?”

“Oh yes….I’m really, really ok.”

“More?”

“Some.”

Angie moved more quickly now-her movements, if not frenzied yet, certainly not calmly deliberate as they had been. Her spanks were lighter and lingered where they landed-riding the light waves the rising and falling of her cheeks.

Pulling her more closely to her, she slid  her hand up under Jess’ belly and through the dense patch that had seemed so parched and wiry just moments ago to find it wet and slippery. Boldly seeking the swelling flower between her legs Angie slipped a probing finger inside. Jessica yelped when touched there.

“Oh girl”, said Angie. “I’d say you are adequately punished….”

“Mmmmm…I’m not done, am I?”

“I think I have something to make your bottom feel better…would you like that?” Not waiting for an answer she uncoiled her arm and scampered into the en suite off the back of the room where she could watch in the mirror the as Jessica subtly ground her pelvis into the bed.

Angie undressed with the speed and carelessness of a child rushing to jump into a pool. She tossed her top over a chair and stepped on and out of her pants that were tied up with her blue silk underpants-carefully chosen and heedlessly discarded. Leaving her bra to fall with the rest of the pile she snatched a bottle of lotion from the makeup table and fairly skipped back to the bed. When she sat next to her this time Jessica could feel the cool bare skin against her own hot, heaving flesh. She imagined that blonde skin would always be cooling and dry.

“I almost came….” she whined into the duvet.

“Almost? I’m losing my touch…”

“I’m still buzzing…” She emphasized by pushing her hip hard into her-like a cat craving attention. “You have to do something….”

“More spanking?” Angie asked, lightly kneading lotion into her warm right buttock.

“That would be something….”

“Or…”she said allowing her fingers to wander off of her bum and rub her finger gently over her glistening labia, “I could put my head between your legs and put my tongue to you. Might that work?”

“Oh god…”

Angie gave her a quick slap on the bum. “Roll over!” When she did her tiny tormentor melted at the hungry, yearning glow of her eyes behind the tears and redness. She couldn’t resist falling onto her and opening her mouth for a kiss that was nowhere near the tentative reaching of a little while ago. Jessica opened her mouth and welcomed her tongue deeply, longingly as if to swallow it whole.

But Angie would not give it up-she had plans for it. She pulled back and opened Jessica’s knees. The girl’s most intimate spot opened like a peeled plumb glowing in the sunshine burning through the windows. Jess dropped her head and hissed between her teeth as Angie’s tongue slid slowly down the inside of her thigh then slowly inside of her.

The Norwegians – Part 1

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(Continued from A Visit to the Clinic)

Jessica’s phone buzzed with a text. It was about 3:15. She had avoided Dr. Greene for the day which wasn’t hard to do. She was a competent hustler and other staff were happy to make use of her when they were busy.

She read the text “Meet me at Dish at 4.”

Jessica didn’t recognize the number.

“Who?” she texted back.

“Most spankable ass in the state,” came the reply.

Jessica actually let out a low moan. She had almost…..no, forget that. She hadn’t almost put it out of her mind. Her little escapade in the exam room this morning had roiled her brain all day.

“Don’t know if I can get free.” She texted back with a frowny face emoji that was definitely for effect only.

“You’re shift is over at 330”, came the quick reply. “Steph told me.”

Jessica sighed long and deep, rubbing her temple which should have been worn raw by now. Before she could type anything, came the message: “No choice. Dish 4.”

Finished with her patients at 3:15 and still trying to make herself scarce, Jessica ducked into the locker room. She normally came and went in her scrubs but something about meeting somebody-anybody-at Dish, a high-end Italian fusion restaurant, called for something more than work clothes.

She quickly stripped and jumped in the shower careful not to wet her hair. Within 20 minutes she was in a short, denim skirt, bright floral top and sandals. She checked out with Selena in front and was on the street heading a short four blocks uptown.

The small dark bar was full even at four with sleek young men and women wearing shades of blacks and blues. Grey was the new white with this crowd and she suddenly felt like a Christmas tree light with her red and yellow top. She scanned the side tables and there she was-golden hair glowing in the sun peeking through the front window. Jessica was half-way to the table when Angie looked up and flashed her bright smile zapping her with the eyes. Jesus! Jessica thought and almost stopped walking. But didn’t.

Angie was writing in a small hard backed notebook with a slender golden pen. How long had it been since she’d someone writing in a notebook and not picking at a phone? A bottle of imported mineral water stood open at the table with a small glass-no ice-floating a lemon wedge. “You made it.” she radiated.

“I had no choice did I?”

“Nope. None.” She closed the notebook and lay the pen atop it.

“What are you writing?”

“Documenting my day-if it’s not written down, it didn’t happen.”

“Oh, well about today…”

“Some things I don’t have to write down to remember…”

Jessica felt the heat rise in her cheeks. “I know…but I feel I should apologize.”

“For what? Not to me. Don’t be silly-sit.” She nodded to the seat across from her. She seemed taller in her short skirt than she did in her scrubs. Her long coltish legs showed well as they slid beneath the table. She was no sooner seated when a waiter appeared at her elbow with a matching glass and lemon wedge.

“Thank you Bobby…” Angie said pleasantly. “Do you want a drink?”

“I can have what you’re having,” she said nodding at the water.

“Sure-that’s fine. But you should have a drink. A cocktail-something.” When Jessica hesitated, “I will if you will.” Angie watched her trying to decide. The girl seemed to be in a constant, if varying by degree, state of fluster. “Bombay and tonic”, said Angie prodding.

“OK. Same.” Said Jessica. “Sorry…I’m just…it’s early. I wasn’t sure…”

“It’s never the right time, sweetie. Always too late or too early. Best follow your own clock. And a drink would be good for you right now.”

“Why? What do you know?” Angie sipped lightly at her water without answering. “Am I getting fired? Dammit!-I knew it, all day I had a feeling…”

Angie poured water into the fresh glass and slid it across the table. Jessica took it.

“You’re not getting fired…”

“Do you know that? I…I love that job…and Dr. Greene. It was just a…..”

“Would you stop? You’re not getting fired.”

They went silent and leaned away as the waiter set the drinks down in front of them. “Thanks, Bobby”, said Angie as Jessica grabbed hers and swallowed thickly.

“Was Dr. Greene mad?”

“Hmmmmm….I’d say extremely pissed would be more accurate.”

“Ohhh…” She rubbed her temple again. “How am I not getting fired…?”

“Come on! You’re great at your job-they love you there. You just had a lapse. That’s all. I’m sure firing you never came up.” She paused and sipped at her drink. “Besides, there are other ways to punish naughty nurses.”

It took a beat or two before Jessica actually registered the words and her eyes widened. “What? What? No…”

Angie moved her head almost imperceptibly to the side-what passed for a shrug. Spankings around the clinic were few and far between. But they did happen. During her first week she had seen a nurse in the locker room with a bruised bottom. She had almost panicked and looked away quickly but could never settle in her mind how the sight had made her feel. Frightened maybe? Apprehensive? She did know that even now she could recall the dark spots and marks in perfect detail and she never saw that nurse again without imagining…

Then there was the time she almost died, when she barged into Dr. Greene’s office to find the receptionist-the one before Selena-laid out across the Doctor’s lap with her pants and panties bunched at her knees. Carrie, the receptionist, was a big redhead-not fat but substantial-with beautiful alabaster skin much of it on display just then. Dr. Greene looked up with flashing eyes and pointed a wicked hairbrush in her direction. “A knock might be nice, Nurse Raymond!”

“Yes, Ma’am-I’m sorry…”

“Doctor.” She hissed. “I’m not your home room teacher.”

“No Ma’am. DOCTOR, I mean….” She stopped speaking her eyes pulled to the glowing white hip where it bent across the doctor’s knee. Carrie’s hair hung as a thick curtain so she couldn’t see her face but noticed her fingers squeezing the carpet under her hands.

“Can I help you Nurse Raymond?”

“Uh…no Doctor. It…can wait. I’ll be back later…”

“Good idea…”

She slipped quickly back out into the hallway realizing that she’d been staring and that she’d been noticed staring. Standing outside the door she heard a muffled word or two then the unmistakable SWAT! of paddle on skin. She jumped then heard it again, then again, each time answered with a small grunt.

The hallway was oddly empty for the time of day and anyone passing by would hear what was happening. And, with the receptionist desk untended, it would be no great stretch to understand who it was happening to.

After the fifth or sixth smack from inside, Jessica heard a whimper then a soft coughing cry. She suddenly felt conspicuous outside the door and couldn’t decide if she were spying or standing sentry. Either way, she didn’t want to be noticed out here and skedaddled down the hall to hide in the locker room for fifteen minutes.

That’s where her mind was when Angie reached across the table and touched her hand. “Are you still here?” she asked.

Continued here The Norwegians-Part 2

A Visit to the Clinic

Angela Miller sat on the edge of the exam table and allowed her dangling bare feet to swing back and forth like a kid. The thin cotton gown covered her to mid-thigh and since she had come to the clinic braless all she had on under it were her panties. And it wasn’t warm in the room. Not at all.

She was about to hop down and look for a thermostat when the door opened and a tallish brunette in blue scrubs stepped through. She looked a little harried, with a couple of locks of hair escaping from a loose pony tail that she wore to the side. She shut the door behind her with a bit of sigh and took an exaggerated deep breath. “Whew”, she said smiling then looked at the folder in her arms.

“Hi. Angela?”

“Angie.”

“Great, Hi…umm…I’m…Jessica. Just doing your intake-vitals, etcetera…” She was stumbling, seemingly unable to get the words out in the right order. Or remember her goddam name apparently! All she could think was “Those eyes!” as she was almost pinned to the door by Angie’s arresting robin’s egg blue eyes.

“No, good,” said Angie smiling and cocking her head to one side like a curious puppy. Of course the teeth were perfect and white as copy paper.

Angie put Jessica around thirty or so-about five years older than she was. She was slim and pretty with an unexpected silver stud in her left nostril. She seemed a little nervous; maybe she was new. Angie relaxed in the casual intimacy of the exam room -feeling Jessica’s thigh against hers and her breath on her neck as she took her pulse and wrapped the blood pressure sleeve around her arm. At least her hands were warm!

“What are you wearing?” Jessica asked as she wrote numbers on her chart. “The scent…”

“Oh, you like it? A friend of mine actually makes it…”

“Really?”

“Yeah-mixes all the oils and everything…quite an operation.”

“Smells amazing…”

“I love it. She calls it…Blue Steam, I think. Or something like that…If she hasn’t changed the name already. She goes back and forth.”

“It’s lovely…”

“Thanks…” Jessica asked a few more rote questions and made notes.

“You been here long?” Angie asked.

“A few months….”

“You like it?”

“Doctor Greene is amazing-I’m learning a lot from her.”

“She’s great…”

Jessica set the folder aside and flashed a slightly pained embarrassed smile. “If you don’t mind…flopping over onto your belly? She insists on core temperature.”

“Core?”

“Rectal”, Jessica answered, the pained smile getting tighter.

“Oh-yes, sure. Sorry”, said Angie. “I’ve been here before…Didn’t recognize the term” She slid over and reclined on her side for a moment before rolling over. She lifted slightly and arranged herself and the gown then settled.

“Thank you”, Jessica said relieved. “Some people make this so awkward…”

The cords on the gown kept it from sliding completely open in back but weren’t tight enough to keep her well rounded bottom from blooming through the gap.

“She started calling it ‘core’ because ‘rectal’ freaked people out.”

“I’m not shy”, said Angie situating herself, settling her head on crossed arms. “It’s only a bum, right?”

“Right”, said Jessica with a nervous laugh. Why was she nervous? She’d been doing this every day for the past three months. There was a pause before she realized that Angie wasn’t going to reach back and push her panties down like most people. Instead she lifted her hips a tad. “Would you do the honors?” she asked back over her shoulder, her face obscured by a cascade of honey blonde hair.

“Of course, sure”. Jessica quickly, carefully, and as clinically as possible, pulled the panties down to the tops of the woman’s thighs. No further than absolutely necessary but far enough to expose the roundest, firmest bottom that she had ever seen. And she’d seen plenty. Then, with a practiced hand, she used her thumb and index finger to open Angie’s cheeks and insert the pre-lubed tube into her tiny brown button. When she released the cheeks they closed firmly around the trim tube.

“Mmmm…” said Angie. “Tickles…”

Some patients were chatty to cover their nerves, some silent-squeezing their cheeks and powering through embarrassment. Jessica would be chatty or silent-whatever the situation called for. She would usually catch up on notes or look anywhere else around the room. But what she couldn’t do right now was look away. She had never seen…she gazed down at Angie’s perfectly rounded bottom as if into a crystal ball.

“You spend a lot of time at the gym, don’t you?”

“A ton! Why….?”

“Your bottom, girl…” Jessica couldn’t believe she was saying it as she said it.

“Hah…yeah. I had a boyfriend once that called it the most spankable ass in the state.”

“Did he?”

“What?”

“Spank…it…er…you. Spank you?”

“Naw, not really. He never could figure out how that would work. A slap now and again…he was dense…”

“Must have been”, Jessica mused in a soft voice.

“That’s nice…” Angie said.

“What?”

“Your hand.”

Without realizing it Jessica had, during their exchange, rested her hand on the small of Angie’s back.

“Oh god! I’m sorry…” she almost pulled it away but didn’t. The nervousness that she had felt earlier had slipped from her chest and settled lower. Much lower and it wasn’t really nerves anymore. She was transfixed by the view and fought to control her hands.

“You can touch it if you want”, the words came muffled from under the tumble of hair as if Angie was reading her mind.

“What…?”

“My bum…if you want.”

Angie’s eyes were closed and she was breathing lightly. There was no response coming from behind then the thermometer pinged to tell them it was done. She bit her lip lightly feeling herself being spread again and the instrument withdrawn.

A trifle chastened that her offer had not been accepted, she was about to reach back and pull up her panties when Jessica said “Hmmm…that’s odd. It didn’t take.” Then she felt her cheeks parted again and the tube slipped back into place. Slower this time. She held her breath until a hand, warm and dry, cupped her right cheek. And squeezed lightly.

“Ahhh…” Angie sighed and lifted her bottom slightly into the hand.

“My god, girl….this is…” her voice caught as her tongue stuck to the roof of her mouth. “Good lord….” She kneaded the right cheek then slid-not rising, not losing contact, but slid-across the deep crease from right to left and squeezed there. Then the other hand came into play to fondle the bottom of her cheeks and slide the panties a little further down. As the tingling in her crotch intensified, Jessica knew there was nothing that could stop her from kissing the lovely globes she had under hand and was lowering her face bumward when the door to the examining room opened with a simultaneous knock that really served no purpose.

“Dr. Greene!” Jessica gasped, caught with two handfuls of Angie Miller’s naked bottom.

“Hi Stephanie!” said Angie brightly, looking up and shaking the hair from her face.

Doctor or not, Stephanie Greene was a striking woman sliding into middle age with a style and panache that couldn’t be faked. She wore an above the knee electric blue skirt and a dark blouse that only a shade or two lighter than her shoulder length raven hair. She stepped into the room from where she had paused to take in the scene and closed the door behind her.

“May I ask…?” she began.

“I had a cramp”, Angie was quick to explain. “It just tightened up. Too much glutes at the gym this morning….Jessica is a gifted masseuse.”

“Uh huh…” said Stephanie, her eyes not buying it. “Jessica?”

“She was….really tight…” she muttered.

“OK…whatever. No time. Jessica, I’ll deal with you later”.

“Yes, Doctor”, she said gathering the folder and taking a step toward the door red-faced.

“Jessica?” Dr. Greene gave her a look and Jessica followed her eyes to Angie’s bottom where the thermometer still stood erectly in place like a little flag pole.

“Oh, I’m sorry…I’ll…” she stepped toward the table but was waved off.

“I’ll take care of it. Go.”

She hustled out the door and Dr. Greene with a quick wrist movement extracted the thermometer and dropped it in the basin. She then raised a hand and delivered a none-too-gentle smack to Angie’s upturned cheek. “You are such a brat”, she said.

“Don’t be too hard on her….she didn’t stand a chance.”

“Pull your panties up-let’s talk.”

“A little anisette, please…” Part ll

(Continued from “A little anisette, please…”)

The glowing wafer of moon slipped thinly into the chalice of the hills.

“I am not worthy to receive you…” the long forgotten words clattered across his memory like a broken strand of pearls. “…but only say the words….” He was startled to hear himself speaking aloud and bit his lips too late. The sweeping sound of her breathing was gone-leaving a silent void. He inhaled deeply as if to smell whether he had awakened her.

She was on her side so when he looked down he saw only her right eye glowing back at him. Her lips, always full, seemed swollen. He bent to them and kissed her. Gently. Dryly. She returned his kiss over her shoulder then, like a cat, pushed her haunches still wrapped in sheets back into him.

“You are definitely not worthy”, she said huskily-her voice full of sleep.

“Of anything.”

“Release my legs”, she told him.

“I don’t want to hurt you now…” he said quietly. Last night was last night. This was a new day.

“Release my legs”.

The knots melted in his fingers. A lifetime on the lake, sailing, boating and fishing made ropes and knots his superpower. Before she could imagine how she was bound, she was free. Still on her side she pulled her right knee up then, when he uncovered her, lifted her top leg toward the ceiling, opening and still pushing backward. From another woman this would have been an invitation. From her, it was a summons.

Hard since he’d walked into the room he held back and grasped her ankle, then slid his hand down the muscles of her leg-pausing to outline the panther on her thigh. It rippled across her quad and roared up the inside of her thigh directing with white teeth and a blood-red tongue where he should go next.

“Do you want your hands?” he asked.

“No”. She kept them, still bound, clutched at her throat like a child curling her loose hair around her long slim fingers.

He settled on his side poking like a blind dog against her still bruised bottom cheeks. She rolled slightly and pushed backward further. Even in the dim, dawn light she glistened as he slid inside-never surprised by how wet she was. She gasped, taking him all at once as he grunted-forcing himself all the way inside with a loud slap of flesh.

She answered his grunt and caught the wave of his thrusts, digging backward as he pushed forward. They quickened the pace and he held her leg high gripping the firm muscles and feeling the quiver coming from up top. She probably would have preferred to hold her leg up herself just with the core strength she never tired of yakking about but he just wanted a fucking handle. He grabbed her ass and kneaded.

Whatever didn’t work between them, this surely did. This always did. He listened for the breathing again; this time the quick gasping that signaled….here it came. As the bed creaked and rolled, he pushed-pushed-pushed thrust-thrust-quickening his pace-slapslapslap skin on skin until her gasping became a moan then a bark then a cry as she slammed her leg down like a guillotine holding him in place as he, with a last firm jam spewed his shuddering heat deep into her.

As they deflated, dissipated, he wrapped his arm around her shoulder and pulled her close as if wanting to contact as much of her skin as possible. He slid out of her and rested until he heard the telltale whispering of her wheezing. He allowed himself to be lulled to the edge of darkness before he roused and pulled gently away.

Without touching her he leaned over and untied the ropes on her wrists but she reacted not at all, lying as if in prayer. He retrieved the knife and put it on the bed stand then, reluctant to leave, kissed her shoulder, her back and ran is tongue along the salt of her hip. When he felt himself begin to swell, he rose and pulled the sheet up to her neck leaving her exactly as he’d found her. He left the door ajar.

Later with the morning sun high over the ridge she, still damp from the shower and clear-eyed as a child, joined him at the kitchen table. The silk robe parted as she gingerly sat affording him an easy view of her small, firm breasts. “Good Morning Glory”, he said mocking. She gifted him a half smile.

“I trust you welcomed the sun”, she said seeing that the sweat from his sunrise workout was already dried on his shirt.

“Someone had to do it” he said pushing away from the table. “Coffee?”

“Christ, yes.”

“Cream?”

“A little anisette, please.” He took the clear liquor from the sideboard and poured thickly closing his eyes to the sweet licorice scent filling the room. He placed the cup before her and kissed her on the top of her head and slid his hand inside her robe. “Always nice to have the girls for coffee”.

“Will you join me for sword later?” she asked ignoring his hand.

“Technical or Kumite?”

“I want to fight.”

He stepped back and regarded her carefully. She was talking into her coffee giving him nothing.

“Wood”, he said firmly. Their steel tournament swords weren’t razor sharp but carried enough of an edge to do damage. He would only fight her using the wooden swords. They had a way to make that interesting.

“Fine”, she said looking up. Her eyes had a sparkle rather than a gleam. Which was good. “Eleven?”

“Eleven it is”, he said. “Now drink your coffee.”

She blew on it and sipped.