by Rue Chapman
Beth lay curled up on the bed, flicking the pages of the book. She scanned the introduction.
"Is your love life getting stale? Is it the same old routine? Well it's time to spice things up before it's too late!"
Yes, she could definitely do with some spice. Same old routine was EXACTLY what she had - there used to be wild monkey sex in every room of the house just after they married, then all too soon it became 'Don't wake the baby', then years with toddlers sharing their bed after almost nightly bad dreams (How on earth did they manage to conceive the second and third kids? Osmosis?) Then a long, calmer time when all they had was a quick snuggle on Friday night.
"Did things just seem to slip away from you? Has the interest gone?"
And now the kids were grown and gone. Three months ago they waved their youngest off to college, and finally the house was their own again. And now that they had time, and enough places, and more than enough privacy (and sturdy furniture)... somehow they just didn't have the urge any more. What happened to the wild games, the inventive fun, the wonderful shivery Dom voice, the lovely hot spankings, and above all the totally intense sex? A few light smacks to her well-padded rear, a quick bonk and then he was snoring.
"It's time to take control! Get the interest back!"
Beth nodded. Interest, spice, fun - that's what they needed. She turned to Chapter 1 - "Find your lost passion - rekindle the flames."
Saturday, a great day for fun - and Mark was playing golf. Why wasn't he playing with HER?
She read on, carefully, then made a list:
Red nail polish
Map
Binoculars (might need to track him on the course)
Perfume
Legs waxed...
Fine. Passion. Rekindling. Beth was going to rekindle.
Mark frowned as the ball rose in the air, then moved in a graceful curve towards the greenery at the side of the fairway. He sighed as he trudged towards the spot where the ball disappeared. Now that the kids were off their hands he'd have time to work on his slice, and his handicap. Might knock off a few strokes by Christmas. It was good to have an interest, especially as you entered the more settled part of your life.
He pushed through the bushes, peering around, and then he saw it.
The foot.
A woman's foot, bare, with red toenail polish.
He froze, sick at the thought of a dead body being hidden on his favourite golf course.
The toes wiggled. His eyes tracked up the leg, to the very female form that lay half-turned away from him. The bare female form. He took a step back, "I'm sorry miss... madam... I ... er... I'll just play through."
"Can't you play with me?"
He froze. He knew that voice. "Beth? What are you doing here? You're not a member!"
Beth rolled over and sat up a little, jiggling her not inconsiderable assets and pouting a little, "I thought you could play with me for a while. I could do with a few strokes."
"But this is a par three hole. I mean - there's people - other players..."
"We're well hidden here. Come on Mark, let's rekindle our passion!"
"There's a dress code here, and you - you're not wearing the right shoes to be on the course."
Beth lay back down, trying to look as provocative as you can with a thistle scratching your bum. "We need more passion in our lives. We need to do things together."
"Do you want to take up golf? You'd have to become a member."
"The only member I'm interested in is HERE!" Beth lunged for his groin, intent on the zipper. Sometimes passion needs a kick-start.
Mark staggered back in surprise, tripped over his golf club and sprawled backwards. Beth was spreadeagled on top of him, one hand stuck in the waistband of his golfing pants.
"Hey! You can't do that here! Ladies' day is on Wednesday. Women shouldn't be on the fairway today. And you're breaking the dress code, too."
Beth looked up, startled, then dived back into the undergrowth. Mark glanced at the four men watching with horrified expressions, then realised why he felt a draught in the area of his now-open zipper and dived after her.
"Um, we'll just play through, shall we?" One of the four called after him, then turned to the others, "Honestly, standards are dropping everywhere. You'd think they could wait till the Par 5 on the back nine."
Mark followed Beth's rump as she bounded through the bushes until she found her clothes. "I'm sorry, I just... I thought we could..."
"Don't be in such a hurry to get dressed. We have something to take care of first." Beth watched as he reached towards a nearby tree.
Beth lay curled up on the bed. Well, they'd rekindled something. She'd watched in shock as he selected a thin, whippy branch and stripped it clean of bark and leaves. And then he'd sat with his back against the tree, turned her over his lap and lifted the switch. She'd never felt it before - and the first stroke came as a horrible shock. A thin line of fire across her cheeks, then a second pang just a moment after the initial shock. She was still gasping as the second one fell, then the next - striping her cheeks as she wriggled and yelped. And on, and more, high and low, each 'swittttttt!' sending another double shock wave.
Finally the switch broke and Mark tossed it away, then growled as he rolled her onto her back - all that wriggling had certainly made his interest rise. "Time for a hole in one, I think!"
And now Beth was curled up on the bed, making another list:
Arnica
Insect repellant (if there's ever a next time)
Calomine lotion
Heat rub
Bandaids
A year's membership fees at a new golf club (How DARE they throw him out of the club - behaviour unbecoming indeed. Where was the par 5, anyway?)
But at least he'd shown an interest. It was working.
Beth turned to Chapter 2.
Chapter 1 had worked quite well, apart from the stinging nettles, insect bites, a few scratches and bruises and Mark losing his membership of the golf club. Not too high a price to pay, really.
Beth sipped her tea and read Chapter 2.
"Cook up something hot and steamy in the kitchen."
Well, that was easy. She was a great cook, the kitchen was one of her favourite places. And it had to be far safer than the golf course - she was still scratching insect bites.
"The classics are often the best. Cook up all his favourites, with a few little surprises, and use plenty of the right kinds of spices!"
Beth started making a list:
oysters
steak
Premium ice cream
chocolate sauce
tiramisu
calamari...
The list went on for quite a while. Old favourites, and a few things they'd never tried. And hopefully their OTHER menu would be like that too. Oh, and for that... she added a few more things to the list:
...red garter belt
stockings
red silk tap panties
red lace and satin bra
red stilettos...
Beth was glad she only worked three days a week, it gave plenty of time to get ready for their special evening. Hot and steamy, yes, that's what it'd be, for sure.
Mark walked through the door to be met by the sight of his wife wearing a red satin robe of some kind - it certainly looked a bit more upmarket than her old blue dressing gown. Beth smiled sweetly as she handed him a drink, "Hi honey, here, this is your favourite. Come sit with me and tell me how your day went."
He glanced around, checking for hidden cameras. "Uh, this is some kind of joke, right?"
Beth shoved the love of her life onto the couch and snuggled close. "Now, isn't this nice?"
"It's an anniversary, isn't it? I forgot an anniversary?"
"I thought we could have some special time just for us."
"Birthday? Is it your birthday? Didn't I buy you a vacuum cleaner a few months ago?"
Beth decided that she needed more time to let the romance build. "I've cooked all your favourites. There's plenty of tasty morsels for you tonight."
Mark followed her to the dining room, checking for those cameras. At any moment a dozen people were going to leap out and yell, "Surprise!" When they reached the table Beth nodded to his usual chair. "You sit down and I'll get the first course."
Mark checked the seat for a whoopee cushion.
Beth sailed back into the room with a plate in each hand, and Mark forgot the whoopee cushion as he gazed at his wife. She'd left the robe behind and now he got the full force of red satin and lace, garter belt, stockings...
He didn't taste the first course. But he drooled quite a bit.
When Beth brought the second course she didn't go to her own place, but wriggled onto his lap. Mark had left coherent thought behind some time ago, he sat quietly as she fed him, wiggling in interesting ways as she did.
Then Beth leaned towards him and whispered, "I have dessert all ready in the kitchen, but if there's anything ELSE you'd fancy for afters..." And she did the little jiggle she'd been practising all afternoon.
Mark took a deep breath, smiled at Beth, and then -
- jumped up, depositing her in a heap on the floor, and rushed to the bathroom.
The ambulance arrived pretty quickly, considering the traffic. Beth's red robe got plenty of attention in the waiting room at the Casualty department of the local hospital. But the garter belt and undies would have got even more.
Finally Mark's stomach had been pumped, medication had been administered, and he was breathing unaided.
They climbed out of the taxi and trudged up the path to the front door. Once inside Beth headed for the kitchen, mumbling about coffee. Mark followed on rubbery legs.
"I'm so sorry, I wanted it to be a lovely romantic evening, I ... I forgot ..."
"You forgot my life-threatening allergy to shellfish?"
"Oysters are romantic!"
"Stomach pumps aren't."
"Mark I'm so terribly sorry, truly, I'll never do that again."
Mark stepped closer. "You'll never poison me again? You'll never feed me a life-threatening meal?"
"I said I'm sorry! I just wanted a nice evening, I went to so much trouble..."
"Yes, I noticed the outfit. Let's see it all again, shall we?"
Beth smiled hopefully and dropped the robe.
Ten seconds later she was bent over the kitchen table. Two seconds after that the pretty red silk tap panties were at her knees.
It was several long minutes before the wooden spoon stopped dancing on her bottom. It didn't stop until that jiggling bottom was as red as the panties that were now lying on the floor, kicked into a corner by her flailing feet as the spoon lit a fire on her backside.
Mark admired the results of his work, patting the hot cheeks. "I think you'll remember this for a while." Beth lay across the table, trying to get her breath back, then felt his hand smoothing her sore cheeks. She whimpered theatrically as his hand stroked the hot skin. Then his fingers explored another area that was hot, for a different reason. Beth shuffled her feet apart, the whimpers becoming happy moans.
It was many, many minutes later that they snuggled together in bed. Mark stroked Beth's cheeks, still warm from their encounter with the spoon, until they were both asleep.
Beth sipped her morning coffee and made a list,
Epipen
Cold packs
Replacement spoon...
Beth sipped her morning cup of Earl Grey and opened the familiar pink cover, tracking the bookmark to:
"Chapter 3: The Work Place can be a Fun Place too."
Yes, it was time she did something to make his long day at work more interesting. It had been almost a whole week since her last attempt to liven up their lives, and Mark was totally recovered now, although he still checked through every meal she served him before he ate anything.
How could she surprise him at work? Beth and Mark worked for the same company, she was in the front office three days a week, and Mark was chief draughtsman in the drawing office.
"Think of something that you haven't done in a long time, or a fantasy of his that he'd love to act out. Be bold! Be brave!"
Bold. Brave. Ok, she could be brave. Now, what fantasy did he have?
As far as she could tell, Mark's biggest fantasy at the moment was to stop the neighbour's dog leaving messages on the front lawn. Probably not what the author had in mind.
So she had to be bold and brave, and act out a fantasy in the workplace. And she'd have to provide the fantasy. Simple.
Beth started making a list:
Lace-topped stay-up hose
Black stilettos
Perfume...
She worked Tuesdays to Thursdays, so next Tuesday Beth slipped into the car beside Mark with a smile.
"What's in the bag?"
Beth glanced at it vaguely, "Oh, just some bits and pieces for the office." Beth had been planning carefully, she'd decided that lunchtime would be best for her big surprise. "Mark, I was thinking we could have lunch together today - just for a change?"
"Oh, ok, sure - want to meet at that cafe round the corner?"
"Um, how about you come to my office when you're ready for a bite? I fancy something hot today." Beth's office wasn't much more than a broom cupboard, but it had room for a desk and a chair. And it had a door. Doors are important when you want to be bold.
"Sure. Whatever you want."
Mark leaned into her office, "Ready for lunch?"
Beth stood beside her desk, "Oh, I'm ready. I'm SO ready. But can you just come in here a minute? And close the door? I want to show you something."
"Show me what?" Obediently he stepped in to the cramped space and shut the door. Twenty-five years of marriage leave their mark on a man. "So what do you need to show me? And do you think you'll need that coat? It's pretty warm outside - you'll get too hot."
"You're right. I'll get rid of the coat." Beth slowly opened the coat and dropped it to the floor. She was wearing high heels and lace-topped thigh-high hose. And absolutely nothing else.
Mark got his voice under control. "Well, yes, you won't be too hot now."
"Oh, I'm feeling very hot already."
"Uh, maybe it's not all that hot - perhaps you should have something more on..."
"Oh, I want something more. I want YOU on me!" She leapt at him, landing on his chest and propelling him backwards. Mark bounced off the door and tripped, twisting as he fell in an effort to protect her.
They landed in a heap, limbs twisted together, on the tiny patch of carpet between desk and door. Beth enthusiastically embraced her husband, this was the perfect naughty fantasy - and Mark was really enjoying this one. He was already moaning in pleasure.
Or moaning, at least.
"Mark? Honey? Do you want me to be on top?"
"No."
"Well then, can you move a bit and let me get under you?"
"No."
"Well, what do you want me to do? I'll do anything, anything you want."
"Call an ambulance."
Beth sat up, "Mark? That's not funny!"
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