Rick and Linda: Natural Conclusions

She bucked and squirmed wildly in a lewd horizontal dance. Tears poured down her face as she emitted low guttural moans.

"Unnnnhhh! Unnnnhhh! Unnnnhhh! Unnnnhhh!"
I moved downhill again and across the Humid Valley to Mount Right, which I climbed until I again planted a flag on the peak.

Smack! Smack! Smack! Smack! Smack! Smack! Smack! Smack!!!!!

Her body churned. There were bucks and kicks, shimmies and shakes, twists and turns. Her legs spasmodically spread wide and then snapped shut again. Her arms clawed at our bedspread and her head bobbed.

"Unnnnhhh! Unnnnhhh! Unnnnhhh! Riiiii! Unnnnhhh! Ruuck!"

She was trying to call my name but could not get the words out.

I finished the hike by moving down Mount Right till I arrived at the Great Plains of the Thigh.

Smack! Smack! Smack! Smack!

I rested and, after several more seconds of gyrations and groans, she collapsed, her legs on one side of my lap and her head hanging to the other side. I noticed that her sex was wet and glistening.

After she hung there for half a minute, she stirred and pulled off her tank top. I'd been right about the absence of a bra. I glanced at Linda to see if she'd object, but she was watching the scene in rapt attention, fidgeting a bit herself. The show was as erotic for her as it was for me.

Ellen lay over me now, naked from toe to cowlick. She fumbled for the small handbag she had dropped by the bed earlier. Unzipping it, she removed a vibrator and handed it back to me.

This surprised me only momentarily, but it made sense that Ellen would use a vibrator, not her own hands and muscle power. Ellen was a princess, a princess of sex. Princesses did not engage in manual labor. They had servants for that sort of thing.

Ellen wasn't really a snob in her daily life, but she'd been ogled and fawned over by males since she was fourteen. In the domain of romance and sex, she was the equivalent of the idle rich: everything was handed to her. Masturbating herself would have been beneath her, so she would lie more or less passively while a servant did the work, or the closest facsimile to a servant that she could afford.

I slipped Mr. Belvedere halfway into her front canal.

"It has to go all the way to the hilt or it gets in the way of the spanking," I advised.

She nodded her understanding and then gasped as I pushed it in the rest of the way.

"There's a switch on the bottom," she said.

I turned it on and heard a low hum as the lips of her sex shimmied to a blur.

I resumed the spanking, alternating sides and striking with only moderate force for a few minutes.

Spank. Spank. Spank. Spank.

I kept up a steady pace and soon she was again "ow"ing and "ooh"ing to the rhythm of my spanks.

Spank. Spank. Spank.

After a minute more, she was squirming and twisting a bit, but now it was the erotic motions of arousal not the manic gyrations of pain. She wasn't aware of it, but she had started to rub her pubis from side to side on my lap. Her 'ow's became deeper and breathier and seemed to match the rhythm of her rubs rather than the rhythm of my spanks.

Spank. Spank. Spank. Spank. Spank. Spank.

Vibrators promote lubrication and Ellen leaked copious amounts from around Mr. Belvedere and her fur became clumped and soaked. As I sensed her arousal approaching its peak, I throttled up the power of my blows.

Spank! Spank! Spank! Spank!

Her cries of pain and pleasure merged into hybrid exclamations.

"OooooohhhhhAhhhhh! Mmmmmmmowwwww! Ehehehunah!"

Breathing hard and fast, she fumbled in the little purse again and pulled out a dildo, about four inches long and an half an inch in diameter. She handed it back to me and spread her legs as wide as they would go.

Hmmm, I thought, if the first one is Mr. Belvedere, this one must be Jeeves. I coated it with the juice from her hairy mound. Then I inserted it full length into her anus in a single hard push.

She grunted and stiffened at the invasion, but then resumed rubbing herself on my lap as I resumed the spanking.

Spank! Spank! Spank!

With each blow her red bottom flattened and ripples radiated outward from the point of impact. Before long her climax was upon her. She came powerfully as she jammed her battery-powered hips into my lap and shook there as she nearly screamed out "Unga, Unga, Unga, Unnnnnn!"

After resting over my knee, she slowly pushed herself up to her feet, still breathing hard. Her body glistened with sweat and her hair, in both places, was soaked and matted. Even the cowlick drooped damply. Although her face was tear-stained and her eyes red, those eyes shown with excitement and she seemed to glow in wonder at what she had just done. It's a look I'd previously seen only on athletes who have just won the championship. They are too tired to even cheer, but their faces glow with a triumphant satisfaction.

She was staring at me, again; but this time there wasn't a trace of fear. It was all fascinated curiosity as if to ask "how did you do that?" Her open mouth was smiling slightly even as she continued to pant for breath.

"Thank you, -gasp- Rick, for spanking me -gasp- long and hard. I thought it was -gasp- glorious, and thank you, Linda, -gasp- for letting him do it."

She reached for her Capri pants and both Linda and I spoke at the same time, saying pretty much the same thing: "Wait! The vibrator, the dildo!"

"I'm leaving them in," said Ellen as she pulled up the tight pants. She winced in pain when they reached her bottom, but she gritted her teeth and fastened them anyway. The pants completely smothered the sound of the vibrator.

She stuffed her panties in a pocket and pulled the form-fitting tank top over herself. Her stiff nipples pushed out the fabric prominently. She picked up the purse in one hand and her sandals in the other and we walked toward the living room. After just three stiff steps, however, Ellen let out a groan of defeat and frantically undid her pants and pulled them down to her thighs, re-exposing her red behind. Then Linda and I watched as the tall, cool, beautiful, British professor waddled ignominiously and rapidly to the kitchen while holding her pants at thigh level. We heard the refrigerator door open followed by a loud sigh of relief.

I didn't have to look at Linda to know that this sight would touch something deep inside her and bring a flush to her face and a light to her eyes.

KeeKee and Arundati had pulled up their pants and they were both seated in easy chairs where they had been listening to Ellen's spanking, but they were positioned so as not to actually put any pressure on their bottoms. Each woman leaned sideways as she sat, with her weight on the flank of one hip. They called out smiling greetings to Linda who was ahead of me; but when I entered the room, they instinctively stood and became more serious; and each of them unconsciously moved a protective hand to her bottom. Both gave me The Stare again, KeeKee at my face, Arundati at my hand. This time the stares were leavened by the slight smiles on their faces.

We chit-chatted amiably about nothing, as if this had been a coffee klatch. I smiled, letting go of the stern professor persona. Ellen participated as well as she could from the kitchen, calling out her contributions to the conversation. After about ten minutes, we heard the frig close and she joined us stiffly in the living room, her pants up and fastened.

The way the women were beaming at me, I felt like Brad Pitt, Leo DiCaprio, and George Clooney combined into one supremely manly hunk. Linda saw how they looked at me, too, and she crossed her arms in jealous annoyance.

"I must say," I mused aloud at a lull in the conversation, "I would never have agreed to let Linda be spanked by another man unless I was nearby. You three all have remarkably trusting husbands who seem free of any jealousy at all."

Ellen and Arundati looked at me with surprise and a look of guilty panic came into KeeKee's eyes. I looked back at them in bafflement. It was Linda who connected the dots first.

"Oh, my God! KeeKee!" she exclaimed angrily, "You told us the husbands had all agreed!"

"She told youwhat?" Ellen was nearly shouting, "Danny would never have agreed to this! And he must never ever know!"

"Yes, yes," sang Arundati in agreement, "Karam not be understanding at all. He not be agreeing to me being spanked by another when he not being here."

"I'm solly," KeeKee began to cry, "I had to. I leery [really] needed this and I knew James would not aglee. We have been malleed [married] for seven ye'ahs. He is very sweet and genter [gentle] man. But sometimes I want ... I give him hints, but he not undelstand ... seven ye'ahs a long time ..."

We understood her, even if we didn't yet forgive her. We all calmed down and after much discussion it was agreed that telling the men now would only hurt them and their marriages. KeeKee had created afait accompliand we would all have to live with it.

In truth, Linda and I were to blame as well. We should have insisted on hearing directly from the three husbands that they approved. I had allowed a secret desire to see, again, those three women naked below the waist to cloud my judgment. I now recognized that it was inherently implausible that the other husbands would have agreed. Even if they didn't mind having their wives get a prolonged spanking and climax over another man's lap, they would at least have wanted to be in on the fun and have a chance to reciprocate with my wife.

We said our goodbyes at the door, and when they had gone, Linda grabbed my hand and started pulling me to the bedroom, saying "For some reason I'm really horny."

"Really?" I said, "I can't imagine why, but by a strange coincidence I am, too."

Later that evening, when we were discussing the day, Linda pointed out that by leaving Jeeves and Mr. Belvedere in place, Ellen had ensured that the two of us would be thinking about her body.

"I see what you mean," I said, "I myself found myself wondering if the toys hurt when she walked, wondering if they would arouse her when she was driving home."

"I don't mean just the rest of today," Linda explained. "I mean for years. As long as we live in the same town with her, whenever we see her on campus, in a committee meeting, at a restaurant, in the grocery store; we'll always wonder if she's wearing a battery-powered toy in her privates."

"You're right," I said. "For an exhibitionist, it's a brilliant move. Now, whenever she's around, our attention will be focused just where she wants it: on her body."