I remember picking out this lingerie. Eighty quid, La Senza; I’d splashed out, just for this, and even though I knew I was the sexiest I’d looked in years, I was agonising like a virgin on a third date.

‘Make sure it shows off your…’ James had gestured, embarrassed. ‘Assets.’

It certainly did. I wasted so much time checking myself out in the mirror in the morning I forgot to think what would happen if I forgot to take them off before going to work. A mistake that led to my having to cross my legs the whole day in case the kids saw Miss wearing crotchless panties. Will they smell now? Probably not, it’s freezing out and there was minimal pussy-to-fabric contact. Would he prefer it if they smelled a little? 

The door opens and shuts downstairs, and I snap back to my pose. On my back, propped up on an elbow, one leg over the other, ass towards the door, all ready for me to roll that leg over so they were open wide for him. The mood lighting is perfect.

James opens the bedroom door, in his uniform, as per my request, and I can see his eyes widen, just a little, at the lingerie. Thank God. We lock eyes, and I roll my leg. The self-consciousness I felt when I was practising the move is still here, but maybe gently lessened by the darker lighting. James opens his mouth, and it’s a deeper, slower voice than I’m used to. 

‘I hear you’ve been a bad girl.’ 

I can’t help it, I smirk, and a pained expression flashes across his face. He composes himself and starts again, and I smirk again. 

‘I swear to God,’ he says angrily – it’s his police voice, the one I’ve heard him using when I’ve visited him at work and someone’s messed up, or when our kids are acting out and he’s chastising them. He puts his face just in from of mine and growls. 

‘You wanted this.’ 

Well, he’s not wrong. Also, yep.

I try to kiss him, he holds me back by my hair, grip close to the scalp, (like he knows I like), but it kills me, because he’s doing this for me, and I’m really trying to reach his lips but he’s overpowering me and I’m really hating that home gym he put downstairs a month ago right now.

James leans up, kisses my head, and touches my chest through my bra so softly, before snapping back to his job. He mauls my chest with his hand, bites my ear, then wraps his arms around me and lifts me up completely, so he’s sitting up on the bed, and I’m over his lap, ass pointed up to make a really erotic tepee. I hate the home gym a little less now. The tepee quickly leaves my mind. 

His hand cracks against my ass, and I gasp, because, like always, it hurts way more than expected. ‘You’ve been very naughty,’ he says, and I laugh, quickly and deliberately loudly.

He brings his hand down even harder on my other cheek, and that hurts even more. A rhythm starts to get built up, alternating cheeks, his blows getting softer to counteract how sore my ass is getting, and I start moaning, loudly, because that’s what I’m doing for him. The spanking stops and a finger brushes my ass so gently, and I push back to feel his hand, and he hits me again, softer, but all the more painful for the deceit, the sly bastard.

The finger returns, and I push back again, and this time it’s not dishonest. He slips the finger down to my thigh, then up, slowly and he leans down and pecks me, cutely, sweetly, on my burning ass. 

He lifts me up, flips me onto my front (there’s that home gym again), kisses me there, beautifully, and then rests his tongue flat against my pussy. 

I moan in approval, and he starts moving his whole mouth, tongue with it, up and down. The sides of the crotchless panties are getting in the way, so he pulls them off and throws them on the floor. Maybe ten percent of me feels a little indignant, and then that ten percent decides it doesn’t really care and pushes James’ head into my pussy. The head movement stops and the licking starts. A finger slides into me, which is way earlier than normal in our established oral routine but I’m hot to the point where such an acceleration is welcome and actively invited. Suddenly he remembers what we’re doing, and just as I really move up the gears he yanks his head away and pulls me by my feet down to the edge of the bed so that I’m sat upright.

‘Suck me off, slut.’ And it doesn’t sound stupid.

His clothes come off – I only ask for them because he’s way more confident in uniform, and now he’s too horny for it to make a difference. His cock comes out, and I dart towards it, pressing against his chest and kissing the shaft, and I get to feel just how hard I’ve made him. I lick just below the head, then wrap my lips around it, holding it there while my tongue flicks around inside my mouth. 

He grabs my head and pushes it down. I’ve said he can. He holds it over his cock for ten seconds, fifteen, then I tap his arm and he actually pulls me up off it, moving my hair out of my face with his other hand. He puts the tiniest bit of pressure on the back of my head; asking permission. 

I lick the tip again, then put my mouth over the head, and he moves my head down again. There’s something aflame inside of me. Twenty seconds. He pulls me back off. Holds my head by the hair, then lets go, and slaps me across the face, hard enough to sting but not hurt. I look up at him, we lock eyes, and there must be something in mine that makes him know to slap me again, this time harder, before using his thumb to drag my bottom lip down. 

The fire gets hotter. I start to suck his thumb, and he moans again and slaps me with the other hand, only this time I go to cry out and bite down on his thumb. He yanks it out and hisses, ‘Fuck.’ (incidentally, also what I wanted him to do to me really, really bad right now).

‘Sorry,’ I gasp.

He locks eyes with me again, slaps me again, harder still, and growls ‘Bad slut.’ I’m not sorry.

He forces my head to his balls, and I lick; lick, the way I know he likes. He groans, and my hand finds its way down; down to my pussy, and I move my lips aside, and god damn if I’m not actually dripping. 

I moan, betraying my hand, which I actually didn’t mean to do, and he does his angry face again. ‘Bad slut,’ he says again and pulls me onto the bed. ‘Bad sluts need to be punished.’

Pushing it a little, but I’ll let it slide. ‘I’ve been so bad,’ I giggle, pushing my ass up into the air. ‘This bad girl needs to be punished, hard.’ I stressed the hard. 

There’s a few seconds of silence, and I look back. He’s got his face on where he’s trying not to laugh, and I grin, and he grins, and he pulls a condom out from the bedside table while I unhook my bra.

James guides his dick inside, all at once, filling me.

I’m so content just to rest there, but he starts to fuck, slowly, romantically, which lasts maybe three thrusts, then that gets abandoned and he picks up speed to a quick medium. He slaps my ass, and it stings on top of those hard slaps from earlier, but it’s not enough. I tell him to do it harder, and he obliges. From the waist to the thigh I’m on fire, and the rest of me can’t feel anything at all, so I grab my nipple and pinch and roll it hard between my fingers. That feels amazing so I do the same to the other, and there’s nothing holding the top half of my body up so my face is being pounded into the pillow while I get fucked hard from behind. 

Another slap and I remember what I promised I’d do for him, so I moan, and moan again, and it becomes half moan half scream and I’m being so loud now. 

One of my hands travels down, and I desperately paw at my vulva, exposing my clit and rubbing furiously. 

He grabs the other arm, holding it behind my back, and leans back so my head’s off the pillow and we’re in a sort of half wheelbarrow. I keep my head as high as I can and push my tits out and keep moaning and rubbing.

‘Sweetie,’ I hear from behind, ‘I’m gonna cum.’ 

I moan no. I’d be happy to stop after the five minutes it’s been, because honestly I’m in heaven, but I want to cum with his cock inside me. He pulls out, breathing heavily, and I turn onto my front, and put the pillow under my ass, and grab his hips to pull him into me, but he pushes my hand away and slaps my pussy. Holy fuck, that wasn’t planned. Not complaining though.

We call the position Old Faithful because it never fails to make us both cum. He enters me, very slowly, and then picks up speed again. "Pull my hair," I beg, and he does. He holds my head so that he can look into my eyes, before his gaze moves downwards to my bouncing tits, and then to the hair he’s grabbing.

I start playing with my clit again and watch the look in his eyes as he admires me, and my gaze moves to his cheek, where he’s still got a scar from three years ago when we had to put up the first cabinet in our new home and he’d slipped into it. His first grey hairs had sprouted around then, coinciding with the kids, but he’d kept them in check with that shampoo and conditioner he kept talking about, and a patch of skin on his neck was lighter from the bike accident when he was seven. 

I reach up with one hand, and hold his face, and come as he holds my hair in his fist and pounds into me. 

James pulls out, pulls off the condom, shooting the ropes of cum he’d been holding back onto my chest, and I lay back, completely spent. He holds himself up on his arms over me, panting, before lowering his head down to touch mine, and kissing me softly on the forehead, then the lips, then rolling off the bed to grab tissues for my chest.

He laid down next to me, as shattered as I was. He starts cleaning the cum off my chest.

‘Thanks,’ he says with a smile. I ask him what for. 

‘Y’know, ’he says, the smile still there. Being loud. The kids being out of the house was an enabler, and he’d gotten me turned on by being all-controlling to the point where I’d probably have cum from a feather if he’d put on his angry face and told me to. The tissues got thrown in the bin, and I snuggle up to him.

‘You’re welcome.’