Granted, it had been a hectic Monday morning. Our lovemaking Sunday had taken us well into the night, which was to be expected considering the day we had.

It started at breakfast. My sweetheart had snuck out of bed while I was still asleep and brought back bagels and some olive cream cheese from the shop that I love, serving me breakfast in bed. Somehow, the cream cheese ended up in the most erogenous places. Even after we licked most of it up, a shared shower was mandatory. It was almost noon before we were finally dressed.

Sunday was market day, and we took advantage of the crisp fall weather to walk down to the shops on the harbor, mostly hand-in-hand but occasionally much closer; giving the weekend interlopers something to wag their tongues about as they observed the significant difference in our ages. One couple was so obvious in their stares that Marissa just had to tease them, pulling me into her for a long, sensuous kiss as she squeezed my ass. Of course, I had to reciprocate.

Shopping completed, we had a late lunch at Phillips, out on the patio, then strolled leisurely back to the townhouse with our culinary booty. We got everything put up in time for me to watch the second half of the football game. Marissa did her best to try to distract me, and I admit that trying to concentrate on the game while in a state of arousal was difficult. It wasn’t until she walked in wearing nothing but an apron and asked me to help make dinner that I realized just how serious she was.

Food has always been an aphrodisiac in our relationship, especially cooking together. But last night was even more sexually charged. I had finally wrangled the red curry shrimp recipe from the shop in London that I had frequented back in my travelling days, and that was on the menu. There is just something about cooking and eating Indian food together that gets our motors running; the aromatic spices, the heat that starts on our tongues and spreads, the taste of our kisses as we sample and cook.

And it didn’t help that she was wearing just that apron, and expected me to do the same. Or that she kept “dropping” things and bending over to pick them up, each time showing me how much more she was aroused than the last time. I finally had to take her from behind; penetrating her fast and hard at first so that she had to grip the counter. Then it was slow, measured penetrations as I watched my cock slide in, and then out covered in her liquid. She reached between her legs to massage her clit, and came twice before I buried myself in her, filling her with my hot cum.

We ended up eating a little later than we had anticipated, and I had work to do to prepare for a mediation that I was attending on Monday. My love went “in search of libidinous chat” on Lush, as she put it, and it wasn’t until midnight that we reconvened in the bedroom. We both retired at a low smolder, but gentle hugging and caressing ignited into a frenzy of passion as my red-haired beauty pushed me onto my back and rode me to several more orgasms before I made my final eruption of the day. She lay on my chest as our passion finally ebbed; and fell asleep there as I hugged her close to me.

Neither of us heard the alarm go off, and when we finally came to it was a mad dash to get out the door. She was lingering behind; a quick kiss and an “I love you babe!” from me as I raced out the door. “Love you back” went into my ears and into my heart as I hopped in the MG and sped off for Annapolis, dreading the drive almost as much as the clients that I would have to sit with.

As it turned out, fortune was on my side. This was the third round of negotiations; but, unlike the first two, everyone came to the table today with a “let’s get this done and dusted” attitude. I had budgeted the whole day and partway into the evening for this meeting, but we wrapped up with a signed settlement in time for a late lunch to celebrate (if one could consider the payment of the equivalent of eight million pounds something to celebrate). I actually got home early, which is what got things started.

Now, Marissa is a bit of a neat-freak. Things just don’t get left out and about, which is fine with me. So I was surprised when I went into the kitchen and found her coffee cup from this morning still half full and on the counter, along with a bit of left-over bagel. Curious, I went through the rest of the place, and everything else was in order, save for her bath towel which lay damp and crumpled on the floor just next to the hamper. A smile crossed my face as I took the coffee cup, the bagel, and the towel and put them on the chest at the foot of our bed. I then changed into some khaki’s and a rugby shirt, poured a glass of merlot, sat in the winged chair in the bedroom, and waited for my darling to come home.

I heard the door open and quick steps to the kitchen, followed by a surprised-sounding “Oh, shit! Britt, are you home?” she called.

“Here in the bedroom, Marissa,” I replied. She walked in, a sheepish look on her face as she stopped just inside the door. She saw the display on the chest, and knew what was afoot. “How was your day, babe?”

“Busy, really busy. I was late leaving, and then late getting in, and then…”

I stood up, walked over to her, and took her in my arms. She laid her head on my chest as I rubbed her back. I could feel her trembling. She looked up at me, and there was apprehension in her eyes.

I gently cupped her left buttock as I pulled her closer, letting her feel the emerging hardness. She had just started to groan when the cupping became a soft slap; the moan turned to a gasp, and the apprehension changed to a guarded grin as her eyes suddenly starting to sparkle.

“You know what I have to do,” I said in a low, ominous tone. She just shook her head yes. “Then take off your clothes, dearest.” She started, and then paused. “Don’t make me wait. It will be much worse if you do.” I could see it in her eyes; she was calculating what “worse” might be and whether she might like that better. But then she started to remove the white nurse’s uniform, a tunic and slacks in recognition of the cold weather we were experiencing.

She now stood before me in a matched bra and panties; both sheer white with opaque pink hearts embroidered in. These were my favorites, and she knew it. I started to get an inkling when she said, “Should I leave these on?”

“Take off the bra, but leave the panties on," I said in a husky voice.

Her trembling fingers went to the clasp in front. She unhooked it, and then slowly pulled back the material covering her small, pert breasts. My heart thrilled at their baring, as it always does. The coral areola were already puffy and swollen, the nipples hard. I wanted to pull her to me and lock my lips around one of them while I grasped the other in my hand; but, there was still work to be done. I looked her up and down, finally settling my gaze on the tuft of auburn-colored pubes visible on her mound through the sheer material. She noticed the focus of my attention, and teasingly began stroking herself, as if trying to distract me from my intended course.

I sat down on the bed. “Come over here,” I said in my sternest voice. She stood in front of me. I took her hand and pulled her down, so that she was straddling my left leg as I held her waist in the crook of my left arm; her torso and head past me on my left. I locked my right leg around her left, which caused both of her legs to be kept spread, her cute bum sitting high and presented. I ran my hand over the delicate material covering her ass, and she lightly ground herself into my leg.

Without warning, I raised my hand and brought it down smartly on her left cheek. She barley had time to whimper before I quickly repeated the blow, this time on her right cheek. I gave her three more to each in rapid succession as she emitted small yelps and clutched the spread in her hands. I paused, admiring the pink contrast that was coming into view under her panties. She must have thought that the punishment was over, because she started to rise up. A sharp crack across both cheeks at once disabused her of that notion.

As she resumed her position, I took the opportunity to run a finger over her covered slit, feeling the moisture seeping through her undergarment. I found her clit and gave it a little push; she replied with a moan and a shudder. I slowly drew the panties down so that her cheeks were now exposed. I ran my hand over them, my finger between them, feeling the heat from my handiwork, as she moaned and shuddered again.

Once again, without warning, I gave her a sharp blow to each cheek in rapid fashion. Then, slowly, methodically, I gave her ten more to each cheek, alternating from side to side at a pace of one every two seconds. Now her buttocks were a bright crimson. The left leg of my pants was soaked with her liquid, and the scent of her arousal was sweet and pungent. She was gasping, on the verge of crying, but fought it back. Good girl.

I felt back between her legs again, this time seeking out and finding her opening. I pushed a finger in; it was hot and wet. She sighed. I pushed in a second finger, and pumped them in and out in a steady rhythm as my lover rocked her pelvis in time, accompanied by the squishing sound of her well lubricated sex. She sped up her movements, and I could tell that she was close to coming. I curled my fingers around, found her sweet spot and stroked it until she shook through her orgasm.

I released my grip of her waist, and allowed her to stand. Her eyes were moist from the tears that she had tried to hold back. I stood and gently kissed her. She shoved me onto my back on the bed, tearing at my belt and pants, pulling them down just far enough to expose me. Straddling, she grabbed my erection and guided it to the entrance to her core. Shifting slightly, she sank down on the hardness, her breath sharp as it left her lungs. Leaning forward, she used my shoulders for support as she rolled her hips, grinding her clit into my pelvic bone as my shaft remained embedded in her tight, hot channel. I reached up and grasped her nipples, rubbing them between my fingers as she moaned in approval.

She was like an orgasmic force; coming over and over as her juices bathed my balls. When she was finally sated, she leaned forward and kissed me. “You’re still hard,” she marveled. Changing technique, she began an up and down motion as she reached behind to fondle my balls. Leaning back caused the head of my dick to rub her spot again, which felt good enough for both of us to cum once again, crying out in ecstasy. This time I joined her; pumping her pussy full of sperm as I also cried out in release.

She teetered a bit; I pulled her to me, hugging her tight as I ran my hand over her shoulder, her back, and finally her ass. She winced. “Was it worth it?” I asked.

“Oh yes, baby. Oh yes.”