A quiet morning at home has unexpectedly been disrupted. Joe's attempt to catch up on tedious but necessary paperwork is annoyingly disrupted by Ashley, who reaches up to dust a light bulb (who does that, and in heels for heaven's sake?) before bending low to adjust a curtain hem. Tasks for some reason requiring proximity to the increasingly grouchy love of her life.
Joe recognises the signs; Ashley is in teasing mode. It's all about the body language; superficially innocent, but unambiguously provocative postures ensure each dip and stretch thrusts her delightful bottom into prominence.
She's recently made the uncharacteristic purchase of an extremely slim-fitting pair of white jeans. Where so many of her friends have succumbed to thickening waistlines and spreading derrieres, Ashley's rear remains enviably shapely. Joe doesn't blame her for flaunting her figure, he just wishes she'd do so less disruptively. When she bends over yet again to straighten a rug, wiggling her delightful moons inches from his face, Joe finally accepts he isn't going to get any admin done today. Far better to take the hint, abandon that fruitless endeavour and pursue a more pressing matter.
"Just got to get something from upstairs," he says matter of factly, "back in a moment."
From deep within their wardrobe, he retrieves an adult toybox, selects a couple of items and returns nonchalantly downstairs, where an architrave is being pointlessly burnished. Teetering on tiptoes, Ashley's alluring posterior is delightfully outthrust, tempting Joe to give it a hearty slap. Her affronted expression fools neither of them. He laughs, grasps his wife's hands and pulls her towards him.
"We need to talk," Joe announces firmly, "for a start, what were you thinking when you bought those jeans?
"You know the old saying: 'Does my bum look big in this?'" replies Ashley rhetorically. "Well, mine doesn't, even though most of the women in the changing room were years younger. I thought the fit looked pretty dam good. And you," she continues artfully, "are very much an arse man."
"As you've been unsubtly reminding me for the last half hour," replies Joe. "What did you imagine would happen when you wore them?"
"Well, to be honest, I hoped they might turn your head."
"Then your plan was successful," continues Joe, "however I've decided to take you to task for distracting me."
"And how do you intend to do that?" enquires Ashley with feigned innocence.
"Since you've been encouraging me to pay close attention to your lovely bottom, I fully intend to spank it," says her man, the erotically charged words making Ashley blush.
Taking her hands, Joe slips a soft cord around Ashley's wrists and hoists them over her head to fasten onto an unobtrusive hook above the lounge door, ostensibly for Xmas decorations. He turns Ashley sideways and grasps her firmly around the middle.
"You're usually face down over my lap at this stage, it makes a pleasant change to look you in the eyes while I smack your bottom."
"Pleasant for whom... Ooof!" A firm slap across her denim-clad rear catches Ashley by surprise. Taking advantage of her confusion, Joe grasps one of Ashley's boobs and feels the nipple stiffen against his palm as he delivers a further flurry of slaps to the target area. Ashley cries out in alarm as the force of each spank makes her wobble unsteadily.
"Don't worry, I won't let you fall," Joe reassures. By unspoken consent they kiss, lips and tongues exploring avidly. The next succession of slaps draws audible gasps from Ashley as she feels her haunches grow hot beneath the cotton fabric. "Oh dear," says Joe, "you appear to be a damsel in distress?"
"Distinctly overheated, "murmurs Ashley, her voice low and sensual. In response, Joe undoes her tight jeans and tugs them down over Ashley's hips to her knees. A flattering pair of blue silk panties does little to cover her curves, already pink from his punitive attentions.
"Look at me," instructs Joe, forcing his hand between Ashley's thighs.
