Eric came home Thursday, late. He was jet lagged and worn out.
Friday was busy and we didn't end up seeing each other until after 9pm when I came home from a co-workers graduation event. The lights were off, except for a small table lamp in the den. Eric was seated on the far end of our couch.
"Come in here Love," he said and I kicked off my heels and went to him. He looked comfortable, in casual jeans and a blue and yellow plaid button down. He seemed relaxed, patient, and calm.
When I walked over to him, Eric's hands slipped under my dress and pulled the black satin thong from my hips to the floor. He lifted the pleats, up around my waist, and pulled me into a seated position on his lap. Passionately, he kissed my lips and I nestled into his arms, feeling safe and securely buried against the chest of the man I married.
"Tell me about your boss," Eric said, tucking a strand of hair behind my ear and looking intently into my eyes. "I want to know everything that happened and where you stand today."
Eric has always been a good listener, a skill we both picked up with endless hours and days on the phone rather than in person. True to form, I spent an hour detailing every second of my distaste for my boss, the situation, and the drama that had ensued while Eric was away. There was no judgement, no condemning, and no outrageous reaction to my tale. Just a quiet understanding of what I had been through.
"Did you write everything down?" Eric asked at the end of my story.
"Yes," I said emphatically, but my body language did not give the resounding confirmation that my voice was attempting to portray.
"Aaaaaaamy?!" The tone. Ugh. I know that tone all too well.
"Yes Eric!" I reiterated. "Yes, I wrote it down. It's just that, I wrote it in the blog so I haven't technically put it in something that I could turn over to HR but it is written. If I ever had to complain, I could easily rewrite it."
Eric didn't move a muscle but simply said, "You need to write something that you can turn over to HR."
"And as a reminder, I'm going to turn you over my knee right now and spank you for not doing it right the first time."
I heard the words and then there was this pregnant pause. You know what I mean? That moment of realization where even your breath stands still, your body knowing full well what is coming while your mind takes a moment for it to truly sink in.
As promised, dress and I flipped from the safe keeping of a giant hug, to a solid head down, butt up position across his lap. Eric took his time spanking each cheek, hard and steady as he made his point.
"You are an intelligent, trusted, hard-working woman who deserves to be respected as a valued employee at work," he insisted as his palm landed squarely on my bottom. "You did the right thing, standing up for yourself, but you have to follow through with documentation or it won't matter."
My cheeks were quite warm by this point in the lecture and I was just about to reach back, when Eric paused.
"Amy Lynn, I am proud of you," he said and I relaxed, draped over his knee with my hands holding onto his ankle.
Eric told me to spread my legs and I closed my eyes, expecting his fingers to dance and play with my girl parts.
I jumped and my hand grasped the searing flesh of my right buttock where the cheese board had just made it's mark. Ready, Eric clasped my wrist and pinned it down to the small of my back, swatting the same spot five more times while I screamed out and begged him to stop.
Finally, the board was placed on the floor and Eric's hands massaged and caressed all of the places that longed for his touch. His cock cut into the side of my ribs, stretching beneath the denim of his jeans, and we both knew homecoming was not far off.
Eric shifted and then picked up the board again.
"I'm going to punish you, Amy Lynn, " he said with a strong authoritative voice. "All I wanted tonight was to make love to you but instead, I'm going to paddle you for making me wait while you finish your job."
I wriggled and twisted, trying to avoid another round with that paddle and promising that we could go straight to the bedroom. There was no need to wait, but Eric's arm was already tightly holding my middle as he leaned across my back.
Fifteen hard smacks and I was on my knees on the floor, clutching each cheek and melting under the burn of wood on skin.
Eric stood and walked into the kitchen, pulling an old farmhouse style chair up to the table and opening my laptop. Led by the back of the arm, I was seated on my bare red ass and told in no uncertain terms that I was not to leave that spot until a written account suitable for HR was complete.
I started to type and Eric called my name one more time. Turning, I found him standing on the stairs, halfway up to our room. His jeans were unzipped and down around his knees. There was no question he was ready for me to be done.
"Better type fast," he said, his eyes glistening and a huge grin across his face. "We'll be waiting for you!"
Eric stepped out of his jeans and turned, his sexy butt walking away up the stairs. Trust me, it took every ounce of restraint I had not to run up behind him and smack that thing. ;)
"Oh, and Amy," he called out as an after thought. "When you finish that memo, I'm going to need a list of your band of thieves."
Eric peeked back at me and raised his eyebrow.
"I've been reading," he noted, shaking his finger at me, "I know what you bad girls have been up to."
I don't think I've ever typed so fast.