Postcards Ch. 03

The rest went quickly. I dropped to my knees and cleaned our juices off Sean's penis. I started to respond, but Sean shook off the possibilities and went to an armchair. He sat and gestured to his lap. I lay a across his legs and received a nice hand spanking. Sean must have done some research, because his placement and technique seemed straight from a manual. Again, he brought me close, but not to climax.

We showered, rather I showered him. What cleaning I received was purely from being in the same flow of water. Once I dried him, he toweled me roughly, then told me to put on my heels and bring the scarves. He had me cross my wrists behind my back. My eyes were lowered, but I could see him carefully folding the scarves into wide ribbons. He used one scarf to tie my wrists. The other scarf he threaded through the first at right angles. His first bond had been a bit loose, but the second took up the slack. That night I would have no complaints about not being properly bound. After Sean checked the knots the last time, he told me to snap my fingers if I needed attention. The meant I was gagged, though not physically.

It was still early, so we watched the last half ofThe Thomas Crown Affair.It was on TBS, so the language was edited and topless parts were blurred, but the movie still affected me. Parallels from Crown to Sean were unavoidable. As always, my favorite part was when Faye Dunaway says, "If she's anything like you, she won't know what she's losing until it's gone." The look of realization on Pierce Brosnan's face is perfect.

I wept when she reached the helipad, only to find a servant waiting. I ached as she put on her battle gear, but it was not working for her. At the climactic moment, Sean said with the movie, "There's no need to cry there, lassie." while he dabbed my eyes with a tissue. I put my face in his chest and bawled. Sean's arms around me were much more comforting than my bustier had ever been.

I must acknowledge Sean was very attentive. With my arms tied at the wrist, I could not even wipe myself. After my cry, he held a tissue to my nose for a blow, then took me to the bathroom to pee. He gently patted me dry, then led me to the vanity. Of all the events of the trip, that was the most memorable. I sat in a ladder back chair, forced to see my naked body, while Sean carefully brushed my hair. He went far beyond a hundred strokes. When he was finished, my unwashed hair glowed. Sean then braided it into a rope and wrapped it around my head. Where had he learned all this?

It did not matter. These little mysteries would provide musings during the coming years. I had the security of a clearly marked place in Sean's life. I quickly fell asleep, safe in my husband's arms.

Sean:

When I dismissed our watcher, I assumed he would send someone else. I took Sheila for a short stroll to allow everyone into place. My intent was to take Sheila inside and rattle the door a bit. Sheila had other ideas. When I asked for her panties, she pulled up her skirt and pushed the panties all the way to her ankles. It showed how limber she was, because her fingers were brushing the ground, in spite of her heels. I told her to freeze in that position.

I did not know if we were being watched in the strict sense. I expected some form of alert system if we chose to leave, but eyes on the door would be a bit much. Still, it was possible. I lifted Sheila's skirt and ran my had over her beautiful ass. Bent double as she was, the glutes were stretched to the limit. I began to play with them. I started with simple touch, but soon worked my way to taps and baby swats. I was waiting for some sign of fatigue. Dream on.

I had escalated to enough force that my fingertips tingled and Sheila looked like she could go on all night. I stopped and rested my hand on her ass bone. From this side, the double hump of her ass invited me to the center. I stroked he asshole with one finger while I considered. The bottom line was that we were too public. A little show was one thing, but I was not going to get naked out there.

So, I gave Sheila one real swat, then opened the door. Sheila read my mind, because she put her back to the door and raised a foot. I put it over my shoulder ad plumbed her on one thrust. Sheila may have orgasmed on penetration. If so, it was the only one she got. Four pumps and I shot my load. Without command, Sheila dropped and licked the juices off. She was so submissive, I was reminded of CC, which would also go with the exhibitionism. I could play that game.

First, Sheila had requested a spanking. I was willing, but she needed to able to sit in a plane for eight hours. That meant no flogger. Instead I raised the skirt and gave her a hand spanking, focusing on the place where leg meets cheek. In a way, it was a lot like giving massage. I could gauge the reaction to know where to apply more force and where to avoid. When the entire bottom was a nice pink, I stood her up and headed for the shower.

Sheila never hurries and never drops or tosses clothes. None-the-less, she was undressed before I was, testing the water temperature. I let her soap me all over and wash my hair. When she was done, I turned off the water. She dried me while still dripping. I dried her, then told her to get her tall heels and the scarves. I cross tied her wrists behind her back, taking care to use up all the slack. Learn to tie knots, indeed.

That was when I realized I was disciplining Sheila for her off hand comment. Good. I would let her in on the secret in the morning. At the time, I wanted to do her hair. When I was very small, I watched Gram Sparks brush her waist length hair. Instead of shooing me away, she treated me like a young girl, confiding all the secrets of traditional hair care. I was too young to be offended and was full of interest, since my mother was very thorough about locked doors. Thirty years later, I had my first practical experience. Sheila seemed to enjoy it.

It was still a bit early, so I turned on TV. AFN is a mixed bag. They give a range of free programming, but never the premium offerings. I settled on an old favorite, starring Rene Russo and Pierce Brosnan. A few people had compared me to Thomas Crown, but I was interested in seeing how Sheila related to Katherine Channing. Nailed that one. By the time my cue came, I had a tissue in hand and a box nearby. When I told her there was no need to cry, it all came out.

Sheila was to dignified to cry loudly, but everything else was possible. She cried; she sobbed; she shook; she whimpered. Through it all she clung to me like I was her life preserver. Maybe I was. Eventually she cried herself out. I took her to the bathroom and let her pee, while I dabbed at her swollen eyes. Sheila blushed when she reached for the toilet paper and found she couldn't. I patted her dry and helped her stand. Sheila would not speak, but she put her forehead on my shoulder, which I interpreted as a thank you.

I took her to bed. It was not the most comfortable position for her, but she was out like a light. Normally I can sleep when I wish, but not that night. It felt like sentry duty. Guarding my wife was the one thing I wanted most to get right. That night I held her and whispered in her ear for hours.

Eventually I needed to get up. After checking Sheila, I started texting. It was well before local dawn, but my messages would reach Curtis and Gerald about three in the afternoon, their time. In Gerald's case, I doubt I was the first contact, but official confirmation is always welcome. As waking hours approached, I called down for coffee and danish. It may not have been a hotel, but VIP service is VIP service. The suite had a tea set. I was making a pot for Sheila when she stirred.

I called, "It's about time you woke up. Get up and bring those scarves here, in front if you can manage." If? Sheila ran her bound hands under her ass and feet as easily as I rise from a chair, and much more gracefully. I asked, "Danish or croissant?" Sheila sat on one of the stools and indicated the croissants with her eyes. Interesting. She wanted to continue the play. Worked for me.

I poured her tea and added half a creamer. I held the cup to her lips so that she could sip. Next I tore the croissant to small pieces and fed her, pausing for the occasional sip. When that was done, I ate my cheese danish and drank my coffee. Sheila watched every move. About half way through, I looked at the tied scarves and nodded to her. As I completed my roll, she tried to escape the bonds. It was not close, but given more time, she could have managed. That's my girl.

I untied the strained scarves with difficulty, then pulled her close for a kiss. We stayed a long moment, forehead to forehead, reluctant to move on. Sighing, I said, "We're done. You need to get ready." Sheila nodded and turned toward the bath. I said, "There is usually an afternoon shower in Hawaii. I'll be sure to bring the umbrella." Sheila's pace quickened.

Sheila:

Going to sleep in Sean's arms was one of the best moments of my life. His arms protected and comforted me. When I woke, I still felt contented, though his arms were no longer around me. During the night I had come to a realization—Sean truly did defend me. The irony was that I wanted to stretch contentedly, but my wrists were tied.

Sean noticed that I was awake. He told me to come get tea with hands in front. It was a relief to bring my arms forward. According to the clock I had been bound for over six hours and my shoulders ached. Sean asked me to try slipping my bonds, but they were too much for the short time he allowed. Silk is very strong and his method was effective. The glint in his eye told me that he remembered my comment about learning knots. In the future, I would need to be sure such comments were intentional. I smiled as I recalled some lines of TV dialog. Q: "Are you going to shoot me?" A: "Not by accident."

Sean kissed me. We leaned together for a while, then he said it was time to get ready. He untied my wrists and I went to shower. Already, it was strange to do it alone. Feeling a little impudent, I rolled one of the scarves and used it to tie my hair back. After that it was all business. The bags were packed and ready, but I had not used my computer since it had been returned. I checked it carefully until there was a knock on the door.

Colonel Harlan met us at the airstrip. He conveyed Glenda's well wishes and a small gift. It was native handcraft from a nearby island. I told him that I would send her some images that were not on the internet. His smile was a bit crooked, so my irony was not lost. Sean chuckled at his discomfort, which earned a glare, but then Colonel Harlan's laughed. His parting shot was, "I hope you get a good liaison. You'll chew a bad one up." Sean grunted agreement.

Hours later, as we approached Hawaii, the captain announced that rain was expected. Sean and I both laughed. I bit my lip in anticipation.