Lucia’s Affair
"Damn, where is that damn school bus," Lucia muttered to
herself. "Do they want all the babies to catch a cold?"
Despite her complaints, the bus was just coming into view, and right
on time. But it was Thursday, and she was unusually impatient.
Lucia grabbed her daughter's tiny backpack. "C'mon, Maria! The
bus is coming! Give Mommy a hug and kiss." Maria, like a little
duckling in her yellow boots, rain slicker and cap, splashed over to
her mother, and tried without success to lift her face for a kiss
without getting it wet.
"If it's still raining tomorrow, Mommy, can I wear your big
raincoat?"
Lucia smiled, and gave her daughter a kiss on the nose. "We'll
see, baby. Now get on the bus before you have to swim to school."
They both laughed, and Maria blew her a final kiss as she jumped on
the bus. Lucia waved goodbye, and thought that even if it is not
raining tomorrow, I will not need this big coat to keep you from
asking me why I keep squeezing my legs together!
***
He looks furtively both ways as he exits the delivery van, as if any
of the neighbors have nothing better to do in this deluge than to
watch him slink up the walk. Of course, even if they do not actually
see him, it would be difficult not to notice the bright green
Morales' Florist and Gifts van parked in Lucia's driveway for the
third Thursday in a row.
Lucia is waiting shyly by the door. She cannot believe that it has
only been three weeks. It seems like forever. She shivers slightly at
the cool wet breeze coming in through the cracked door.
She is not wearing much in the way of protective apparel. But she is
warmed at the thought of that first Thursday. Lucia smiles as she
remembers how he arrived with the large colorful centerpiece for her
dinner party. He complemented her on her dress. They made small talk.
Then he told her she had such pretty ankles. She had giggled like a
schoolgirl, then on a devilish whim, had slowly lifted her hem to
reveal her lovely calves. He nodded with greater interest. She lifted
her dress above her knees. Without a word, he came to her, seized her
with his huge powerful arms and kissed her deeply. He lifted her
dress up to the small of her back. His strong hands squeezed her firm
ass, and lifted her to meet his fiery kisses. She has no recollection
of how he freed himself from his slacks, but she vividly recalls
being bent over the counter, having her panties ripped away, and the
crashing waves of pleasure that assaulted her with each pulsing
thrust as he took her fiercely from behind.
Lucia finds herself flushing, and short of breath as he enters the
hallway. Without a word, he crushes her to him. His jacket is wet and
cold against her diaphanous nighty, causing the brown nipples on her
small firm breasts to harden like marbles against his chest. She
breaks away to catch her breath, but grabs his hands and puts them on
her chest. "You're so cold! Here, warm your hands. Do you want
some hot coffee?"
He smiles and squeezes her breasts, causing her to moan. "You
know what I want!" She knows, and wants the same. He does not
bother to hang his jacket, but tosses it on the hallway settee. He
picks her up, causing her to squeal in delight, and carries her to
the bedroom. She nips his ear, and undoes the buttons on his shirt as
they move down the hall. She is surprised as they enter the bedroom
when he stops and sets her down at the door. She does not understand
the scowl on his face.
"What's wrong, darling?"
"You aren't excited to see me," he replies quietly.
Lucia is confused. She met him at the door dressed in next to
nothing, kissed and fondled him passionately, and practically
undressed him with her teeth. What more does he expect?
"Wh-what do you mean?"
He does not say a word, but merely points to the unmade queen size
bed in the middle of the bedroom.
"Oh, I'm sorry. The little one couldn't find her boot, and we
had to run for the bus. Then I just forgot when I got home, you know
..."
He puts a finger over her lips. "We must work on your memory."
He takes her by the hand, and leads her over to the unmade bed. He
sits on the end of the bed, and pulls her over his knee.
"Wh-What are you doing?"
Without answering verbally, he gives her firm round bottom a sharp
smack. Satisfied with her surprised yelp, he promptly gives her
another smack. Her surprise starts giving way to anger as he smacks
her again.
"Okay, next time I'll remember!"
"Oh, I'm quite certain of that," he assures her giving her
another loud smack.
"Ow," she complains, covering her stinging rear with her
hand. "That's enough! You'll leave marks!"
He laughs, and removes her hand. His powerful grip prevents any
thought of her pulling away. Although it offers virtually no
protection, he turns up her nighty, and gives her another smack. He
likes the feel of her hot round cheeks under his calloused square
palms. Rhythmically, he smacks her again and again, causing her to
cry out and kick her legs. Although the pain is extraordinary, she
finds herself lifting her thighs to raise her bottom up to meet his
punishing hand. She derives a perverse pleasure upon her descent,
grinding her pelvis against the ever-hardening rod beneath her. When
her bottom is red and blazing, he lifts her and effortlessly impales
her. She throws her arms backwards around his neck and locks her
fingers in his hair, pulling his head down to kiss away her tears.
She grinds her fiery tail into him until they both explode.
***
Lucia watches the van pull away. She rubs her stinging bottom, and
wonders whether to skip tennis this afternoon. Of course, it was her
girlfriends who suggested that she have an affair. Mrs. Morales
smiles wickedly, and wonders, what would happen to her naughty bottom
if she ever had an affair with someone other than her husband?
Copyright KC 2012
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