The wine was a bad idea.
You know you shouldn't have the third glass but it's been such a long week and it just makes dinner so much nicer. He keeps pushing you to have another no matter how much you say no. Of course, you're not fighting him too hard either. But you didn't like the smug look in his eyes when he stared right into yours as he told the waitress, "Give her one more, she's going need it." You wonder how often the wait staff has to listen to little jokes and innuendos shared between couples. Do they keep notes on the one-liners and bad jokes they hear? Do they keep the best and use them on their own dates. Or, more likely, do they just roll their eyes as they trudge back to their stations?
You were already feeling good with the second glass but the third really brings it home. The food was good and relaxing and now you can feel the airplane in your head making a slow, easy landing in Happytown, USA. The efficient, sensible stewardess who usually runs the show was suddenly replaced by a 20-something blonde with a really short skirt.
"We'd like to welcome you to Happytown," she squeaks out from lungs that are straining the buttons on her blouse. "The local time here is half-past Forget-Your-Inhibitions P.M. The Local temperature is a personal favorite, 69 degrees," she giggles with a hand over her mouth, "...with a light breeze blowing in from the Forget-About-Kids-For-Ten-Minutes-West. Feel free to remove your panties and frolic about the cabin."
You tell him that it's getting late and you both need to get home to relieve the baby-sitter. Without looking at you he puts a credit card down on the check and tells you, "Oh, I hit her with an extra bill or two and told her she was spending the night. I have plans for us."
You ask what the plans are but he keeps quiet as he takes you by the arm and leads you out of the restaurant. "From this moment on," he says, "you will do exactly as you are told. If you speak without being spoken to you'll be punished. If you don't do what you're told you'll be punished. If you hesitate you'll be punished. I've been planning this all week so do what you're told and I won't have to get rough."
"What if I like it rough?" you ask, smiling.
He smiles back and slides his hand from your arm to the back of your neck. He puts his fingers in your hair and starts to pull tightly. Anyone looking on would think you're just a couple feeling romantic, but it hurts. Using your hair like a pair of reins, he leads you behind the restaurant to a secluded corner. He makes you face the wall without letting go of your hair. He pulls back further so you have to look up, exposing your neck. You can hear a couple of employees talking and joking close by. They must be right around the corner taking a smoke break.
Your ass explodes with sharp pain as he spanks your four times in rapid succession. You stifle a cry with your hands worried that somebody will hear and come investigate. He's never hit you this hard in all the years you've been playing this game. These were not love taps. These were meant to hurt. He puts his lips to your ear and says, "I told you to shut the fuck up unless I give you permission. Do you understand me?" You nod your head to agree, not trusting yourself to speak. He's actually scaring you a little but you can feel your nipples tingle as they crinkle up underneath your bra. He lets go of your hair and orders you to turn around.
"I wasn't planning on getting rough so early but you obviously don't like the easy way. So let me go over the rules again. Speak when spoken to. Do as you are told when you are told. Argue with me or hesitate and I will make sure your ass is so sore you won't sit down for a week. I will NOT have my plans ruined because of your inhibitions. Do I make myself clear?"
You get as far as, "Ok but..." when your head rocks back as he slaps you. You are actually shocked more than angry or scared. He hit you. He actually fucking hit you! You get ready to lay into him and tell him exactly where he can put his plans when you hear footsteps come around the corner. He grabs your face in both hands and kisses you deeply. You hear an "Oh, sorry," mumbled out of the dark and the footsteps disappear back around the corner followed by quiet laughter. He pushes you against the wall despite your best effort to force him away. He looks you in the eye and says, "Babe, this can't work if you won't play along."
Your brain says that punching him in the chest and storming away is the best response. Then you notice the blonde stewardess in your head. She lost her skirt at some point and is now sitting on top of a random passenger with a smile. She seems to be dry-humping him to a happy oblivion. She's got a bottle of champagne in one hand and a loudspeaker mic in the other.
She happily announces, "The plane has come to a complete stop in Happytown. You may exit any old way you want and as always, thanks for flying Fuck-It-All Airways!"
You find it hard to look your husband in the eyes as you say quietly, "Yes, sir."
"What was that?"
"Yes, sir," you say a little more loudly.
"I want your panties off right now," he says as he steps back to watch.
With a nervous glance around you start to reach up under your dress when he says, "Stop! I want to see your pussy. Pull your dress up while you take them off. I want to see what kind of shape things are in down there."
You glance at the corner where the voices are still chatting while you pull your dress up above your hips. You snag your fingers into your panty top and slide them down off your body as quickly as you can, nervous that whoever came over before might peek again. He holds his hand out for your panties and snaps his fingers. You step forward to hand them to him and pull down your dress. He snaps his fingers once more and motions for you to lift your dress again. You feel a little angry but you don't want to ruin the game so you do as you're told. He nods approvingly when he sees you're freshly groomed. Smooth skin with a small landing strip is the fashion you've been keeping lately. You're glad you touched up with a razor that morning in the shower. Otherwise he might punish you for being unkempt down there.
He moves a little closer and tells you that he can't see enough. He flicks on a small flashlight from his keychain and tells you to spread your legs wider. The light shines right between your legs as your thighs move apart. Anybody walking around the building now would have quite a nice view. You're hands are on your dress, ready to pull the material down to cover your body at a moment's notice.
"I'm still not seeing what I want. Turn around and face the wall."
"He's going too far with this," you think to yourself.
You feel nervous but excited; you love how much he always wants to see your pussy. His need for your body; to see it, touch it, to taste it has never wavered in all the years you've been together. You can feel your body wake up as juices start to flow pleasantly between your legs. He tells you to bend over and put your hands on the wall. You are painfully aware of the cool breeze that is rolling over your pussy. It's making your nipples hard again. He steps close and runs his hands over the goose bumps that have formed all over your ass cheeks. He steps back and it becomes obvious from the shadows dancing on the wall in front of you that he's using the flashlight again.
