Hot Potato
by mikki
The wineglasses sparkled, and the silver gleamed. This was not unusual. Clara took great pride in her kitchen and the dining room that attached, however small they were. Cecil had done well for himself, and the amenities in the small house were enough to make them very comfortable. Clara smiled as she set the table with the new china. Cecil had bought it for their anniversary.
Five years theyd been married, and she grew more fond of him every year, if that was possible. She'd have thought she couldn't love a person anymore than she did when she'd first met him. But then, he was Cecil. Besides, he took care of her better than any man save her father, and in some ways, better than that. Clara smiled, blushing in spite of herself. Yes, Cecil took care of her VERY well in some ways.
She brought the soup tureen to the table, and set out the winebottle. Cecil always preferred to open that himself. She had just turned to light the lamps when he came throught the door.
"Clara? I'm home!" Cecil called, hanging up his hat and coat. He walked into the dining room, leaning in the doorframe, watching her move about. He loved watching her work. Any man who thought women's lives were carefree and easy had obviously never done their work for a day.
Clara glanced up at him and smiled, seeting the other small bowls on the table. "In a few moments, Cecil. You'll just have time to wash..." She still blushed when she caught him watching her. His gentle gaze fell on her, and she could feel his eyes on her, bringing heat that was always new.
Cecil didn't move. He watched her in her ballet around the table, skirts swishing, her delicate hands placing heavy bowls and straightening silver. She was wearing her new dress. The tiny waist of the basque only accentuated her round hips, and the swell of her breasts above that waist was not overly large, but perfect for her shape.
She could pull her waist tighter, he knew. He'd helped her draw the corset so tight she almost had to lean on him for support when they'd been to fancier dress balls, but they'd stopped that a year ago, when she tired of the social scene. He was proud that she'd retained her figure after they'd wed, but sometimes, he did wish she'd loosen those strings a bit in the daytime. He liked his wife round, and admired her natural curves. But he supposed he saw her curves natural enough in their bedroom.
Cecil smiled and came behind her, his large hands almost going round her waist entirely. "It can wait a bit. I like watching you..."
She continued arranging the table, ever aware of his hands on her. "I know you do. And I enjoy it when you watch me, however contrary my initial reactions my be." She smiled.
Cecil laughed and ran his hands down her hips, cupping her bottom."Oh, Cecil!"she gasped, and placed her hands flat on the table as a tingle ran up her spine. He leaned in to place a kiss on her neck, just under her ear. "Cecil!" she hissed, and blushed hot.
Cecil laughed, low in his throat, and withdrew from her. "Yes, yes, Clara, I know.. Wash..." He grinned wickedly as he turned, and reached back to place a quick swat on her bottom.
Clara jumped and giggled, almost girlishly. "Yes, wash," she laughed, her eyes bright. "We have all evening for that!" She turned and made her way to the kitchen, finishing a few small things. She was standing at the table when he returned, well-scrubbed and tie loosened.
"Well now, is everything ready?" he said casually, sitting in his place at the table.
"Yes. It's all done. Shall we?" she said, smiling, and seating herself.
Cecil nodded, and they began. The meal was good, and though they had both worked hard all day, they were easy with each other. Energetic, even. Cecil told her what had happened at the office, and Clara filled him in on the gossip among the ladies at the mercantile. Neither were particularly interested in such, but kept up with them, so as not to seem anti-social. By the time the last mouthful was finished, they were both tired of social talk and instead turned to each other.
"It seems that you've had a good day, then. No problems?" Clara picked up the plates, starting toward the kitchen.
"Yes, fairly straightforward. No problems." Cecil took a few of the dishes as well, following her. "And what about you? No problems?" he grinned, mimicking her just a bit.
"Well, except for a slight potato shortage in the kitchen that I had to deal with, no problems," she said, her voice tinged with mischief.
"Potato shortage? Oh. Well, then, you've not been watching the goods?" He gave her a sidelong glance, a wicked gleam in his eye.
She wiped her hands on the dishtowel and turned to face him, her hands rising to rest on her hips. "Well, you see, I HAD been, but... well, I'm sure you're aware of how.. busy things can get."
she began a deliberate walk past him, brushing against him.
"Oh, well, busy," Cecil nodded. He turned to grin at her, eyebrows raised. "But, seeing as I know that you've had plenty of time, could it be you've simply been neglecting it?"
"Of course not!" Clara exclaimed, feigning shock. "Because if i'd been neglecting it, you know I'd be in a bit of trouble wouldn't I?"
He smirked, hands in his pockets, and rocked back on his heels. "Why, yes... You would be, wouldn't you?"
They stood, she in the doorway, he in the kitchen, looking at each other... And as if on a hidden cue, she turned, bolting out the door.
Cecil gave chase, laughing, following his giggling wife. She ran around the living room sofa, and he finally cornered her in the dining room again, sweeping her over his shoulder.
"Now then, my naughty wife, " he said, placing a couple of swats on her bottom as she playfully fought him, "We'd better take care of this little problem, hmmm?"
Clara laughed and pinched him on his hip as he carried her up the stair and into their bedroom.
"Hey! No pinching!" Cecil sat on the bed and Clara slid down to sit on his lap. She wrapped her hands around his neck, kissing him brazenly. Cecil held her tightly, returning the passionate kiss, his hands sliding over her back.
He broke off the kiss, smiling and standing her up. "Now then, shoes and dress first, then hair. Right?"
Clara blushed. "Yes sir." She turned, removing her feet from the slippers and unfastening the dress, sliding it over her hips. She laid it aside and pulled the pins from her hair, letting it tumble over her shoulders and down her back.
Cecil watched her walk toward him, hips swaying, her now-bare feet padding on the thick rug. He made a small gesture with his hand, and she turned, her back to him. He stood, unlacing the tight corset. With the cords loosened, the hooks undid themselves on their own. It fell away from her, and he ran his fingertips over the lines pressed into her skin by the boning. He turned her to face him, and she folded her hands almost protectively over her breasts.
Slowly, deliberately, he took her wrists, pulling them away from her body and placing them firmly by her sides.
"Now, now, Clara, you should never be ashamed to show your body to me." he smiled gently, running a finger down her cheek, letting it trail down her neck to graze a knuckle over the rosy bud atop her white breast. She blushed and bit her lip, stifling a gasp.
"You are beautiful... but," he paused, stepping back and seating himself on the bed. "There is still the problem of those potatoes... " Cecil patted his knee. "You know what happens to naughty wives who neglect their duties." Clara blushed again, and looked down.
"You do know, don't you, Clara?" he prompted.
She nodded. Cecil folded his arms over his chest. "Well? What happens?" He grinned, watching her squirm.
Clara fidgeted her hands at her sides, and blushed hard. "They get spanked."
Cecil let that hang in the air, knowing how the words made Clara's stomach twist, the heat spreading down her body. Finally he nodded and reached out to take her wrist in his hand. "That they do. So, since you have been the naughty wife today, what am I to do?"
He watched her fight with those words as well before spitting them out. "You're going to spank me..."
He smiled an tugged her wrist, smoothly positioning her after she fell over his lap. That i am," he said casually. He leaned over her body, to whisper in her ear. "And you're going to enjoy every minute of it."
He ran his hand over her bottom, smoothing the fabric of her bloomers. She wriggled, giggling. He untied the bows at the sides, loosening them. She lifted to let him ease them down over her hips and to the floor. He pinched her bottom gently, and she squealed. "Cecil!" He laughed and patted her bottom, hearing her sigh softly at this touch.
Cecil grinned and brought his hand down with a sharp Smack! Clara yelped and tipped her hips, leaning farther over to press her belly against his thigh.
Cecil followed through on her invitation, the spanks falling on her white cheeks, and he watched them bounce with his blows. Clara moaned softly, and Cecil paused, massaging the almost-red back to a light pink. He trailed his fingers down to brush against her sex, and delighted in her gasp. He dipped a finger just inside, and smiled as he found the moisture there.
"Oh, my, you ARE a naughty girl, aren't you?" He let the finger leave a damp line up the crease between her buttocks, and swatted her again.
"Oh! yes Sir... "she breathed. She shifted and felt his hardness under her belly. "'You're naughty too, " she giggled.
He answered with sharp swat. "Yes, but I am the husband, and YOU" another swat, "are the wife. So, I deal with it as I can, and YOU, my dear, answer for it on your bottom!" He landed a flurry of quick spanks to the base of her bottom watching the skin redden again.
Clara squealed and bucked under his hand as the spanks sent shivers up through her sex, melting the core of her.
Cecil smiled, changing pace, and landed metered heavier blows to slow her down. Clara moaned deeply and rocked over her husband's knees. Her back arched and her head lifted, her hair falling over her shoulder and rippling as she moved.
As Clara moaned and otherwise displayed her pleasure, Cecil shifted under her. He slowed the spanks to a stop, and smiling a slow wicked grin as she whimpered impatiently.
He leaned over her, whispering in her ear as he stroked her buttocks with a firm touch. "So, Wife... just how naughty have you been?" The words sank into her ears, and she blushed hard.
Cecil traced delicate patterns on her nether cheeks, questioning her. "How naughty, sweet Clara? Hmm? Should I go to the bureau for the strap?" She bit her lip, and he placed a quick spank on each cheek.
"No? Maybe then, you should go to your dressing table.. and bring me back your hairbrush?" Clara smiled, and almost nodded. The brush was more than functional for hairbrushing.. It was beautiful: shallowly carved, deeply polished, and golden with age. It had been inherited from her grandmother, with more than a small hint that it had been used for more than hair by her grandfather as well. When Cecil wielded it with his skilled hand, it left a deep burn and a penentrating heat that never quite grew sharp.
Still, she was silent. "Ahh.. I see..." Cecil quirked an eyebrow. Clara seldom took the next step up. He leaned farther, almost folding on top of her, pressing his fingers steadily into her now dripping quim. "So, you've been a very naughty girl then... I suppose I shall have to go to the closet..." He paused, feeling her tense and go hot."And put you over the bed for the cane..."
Clara's skin tingled, and Cecil felt her tense around his fingers. He pressed his finger up to touch the soft spot inside her, feeling her shudder, almost there. He removed his hand from her treasure and lifted her, standing easily himself. He kissed her nose and turned her, putting a hand on the small of her back, leading her to the end of the bed. Clara bent over the rail at the foot of the bed, feeling it press into her lower belly. She shifted, her upper body lying flat on the softness of the bed.
Cecil walked around her, adjusting her position slightly, forward a bit, to one side a bit, pressing his fingertips lightly to her back so her hips tipped up. "Lovely, Clara. Just lovely." He couldn't help cupping her in his hands, squeezing her bottom gently. He stood off to one side, smoothing her skin with a learned hand, and studied her. He nodded to himself and without warning began a quick once over of her almost-cool bottom.
Clara yelped at the unexpected onslaught. She twisted, and he automatically reached with his other hand to move her back into position. He kept up the steady middle ground blows until Clara was again not red, but quite, quite pink. Her breathing quickened, and tears welled up, not falling yet.
Cecil stopped and left her, moving to the closet. He watched her wriggle as the door creaked open, watched her jump as he loudly closed it, cane in hand. Walking to her side, he tapped the small of her back with the cane, a silent signal for her to properly present herself again.
"Good girl, Clara, very good... " he said, his voice smooth and liquid. "Now, the big question.. How many?" He saw her flush and ran the cane over her bottom. "Twelve, I think? Yes?" Clara simply nodded.
Cecil smiled and set to work. He aimed, and easily laid the first blow heavily dead across the center. Clara gasped, and felt the sharpness melt away into a mellow heat. Cecil laid the next two in quick succesion, perfection in parallel lines. Clara barely flinched when they landed and moaned aloud at the pauses in between. Cecil marvelled at her ease in taking those blows. He knew she must be very hot indeed to take those three with not even a yip.
He smiled at this development, and laid the others quickly, almost as if he were using a switch, and gazed at his beauty over the end of the bed. Nine perfect stripes colored her cheeks, and Clara was breathing heavily. He could smell the sweetness of her, see the moisture on her thighs. He paused, tracing his fingertips over the raised welts left by the cane. Clara shivered, and he saw her tense, her breath stopping.
"Oh, no, wife, not yet. You have three to come!" Cecil laughed softly and lined up the tenth. It fell with a thud, and bit deeply into her bottom, very low. For the first time, Clara squealed, and almost lifted up. She regained her composure, sinking back down and letting out a deep sigh.
Cecil didn't waste time, laying the next at a sharp angle up to the right, crossing all the previous ones. Clara pressed herself heavily into the bed, letting out a low wail. The tears sprang up, and she felt her stomach knot, burning through her. She tightened her whole body and waited for the final blow, the tears flowing easily now.
Clara heard Cecil's steps as he switched sides, and she leaned ever farther forward, the rail of the bed pressing almost painfully into her belly, low low down. It made her ache and she caught her breath, waiting for the piercing blow that would send her teetering over the edge.
It fell with a whistle, crossing the previous lines in the opposite direction, and landed with a CRACK! The tip of the cane sank deep into her hip on the far side, and Cecil almost winced, knowing the purpling that would last for several days. However, the moaning wail that left her lips sent a shiver of a different kind through him.
He silently laid the cane aside and slid out of his shirt. Adding his trousers to the pile, Cecil moved to stand behind Clara. He ran his thumbs down the crease of his lady's bottom, gently parting the bruised cheeks. Clara winced, but pushed up on her toes, lifting herself for him. Cecil ran his manhood gently down the furrow of her buttocks, sliding it down to touch the wetness at her sex. She bounced impatiently on her toes and whimpered, wiggling her bottom at him.
Cecil laughed and took hold of her hips, pressing steadily and sinking deep into her hot pussy. Clara moaned and Cecil growled as she came again around him. He'd not even started...
--------------------
Clara smoothed the bedclothes, lying exhausted on top of the covers. Cecil lay equally exhausted behind her, arm draped easily over her. She sighed happily, wincing just a bit as Cecil pressed himself closer to her, propping his head up, elbow on the pillow. He trailed his other hand over her hips, idly drawing lines with his fingertips on her sides.
"You're beautiful, wife..." he whispered, leaning in to kiss her neck.
"You are amazing, dear..." she said, the softest of smiles on her lips.
Cecil shifted, holding her close. "So, how many potatoes DID you have to buy today?"
Clara grinned and pressed closer to him. "Only one."