I still keep the special paddle on the wall with her name on it.It will always remind me of how she blubbered her silly excuses and pleaded for mercy just to stir me into greater effort with my arm and skillful use of the nasty hard paddle. My memory holds true with the perfect shade of her reddened cheeks. They changed gradually from snow white to fire engine red as the blows from my paddle stacked up into an impressive cumulative quantity of affronts to her self-respect.The feel of being fully seated in her saddle at the final act of such sessions tended to make me ache with the need to keep her sensuous rump under my control. I would guide her with my knees and dig my fingers into her yielding flesh just before giving her the gift that keeps on giving and dripping and filling her void of emptiness. For some reason, the process of draining into Miss Brooks from behind seemed to go on for an eternity and she would tremble and shift in different directions underneath me forcing me to. And oh yes, she had a little bastard planted in her during that time too. I wanted Mary, but I wanted to reject her at the same time, which boiled down to not knowing what I wanted.I realized that Mary had a head start on the drinks we were consuming. I had two before the ball dropped and she had three more. When I asked her how many she had altogether, she slurred, "Just enough to feel good and sexy. Don't you think I'm sexy, Dirky old boy?"I figured she was about in the same drunken condition as she was the night of the party when she got knocked up. All thoughts of sex with her left my mind. "Come on Mary, the new year is here and you're tired. Let me take you to bed so you can get some sleep." I left her sprawled in bed and went back out to the couch. I didn't hate Mary, but I didn't think we could make this marriage work much longer.I left the TV on and turned out all the lights and tried to go to sleep. I must have dozed off, but I suddenly was wide awake. I felt someone.
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