their unique sensibilities.
Some of their best times revolved around semi public exhibition. Roslyn was an exhibitionist who loved to flaunt her shapely body to admiring audiences. In their Jeep outside a girlie bar, Jack would fondle her tits and squeeze her nipples through her blouse, so some hot young stud in the car next to them couldn't help but see the show. What horny man wouldn't stop to enjoy the sight of a woman with her breasts seductively exposed, and a hand between her legs playing with her cunt?
After playing their game for a while, when Roslyn and Jack were so hot they couldn't stand it any longer, she'd flash the voyeur a last flirting smile, and Jack would drive away. They'd find some country road to mosey down so they could both get off, Roslyn first, followed by a quick blow job to Jack's stiff prick.
Their semi public frolics drove their sexual appetites nearly as high as their punishment rituals and spanking scenarios. They were never bored; there was so much creative variety in their love making and their lives.
They expressed what came naturally from their loins, preferring to be spontaneous rather than contrived. Trying to be too specific with any fantasy never really worked, and that was why Jack didn't often tell his wife what plans he had in mind. He was a maestro at taking Roslyn's raw creative material and setting up possibilities. What happened in the end was up to the moment and their immediate fancy.
And hour later, Jack asked again, "So what's this secret desire?" Instinct told him that Roslyn had the mysterious answer to her earlier quandary.
She fidgeted. That was a dead give away.
"I. . . I don't exactly know how to put this Jack . . ." she hedged.
"You usually don't have a problem telling me your thoughts."
That wasn't true at all, she thought. She had a hell of a time telling him things because she knew he'd only have more raw materials to work with. Before she knew it, she'd see her day dreams played out in real life. Sometimes before she was ready.
Jack never balked at anything; he never had a problem enjoying her outlandish sexual reveries, whether they were exhibitionist or spanking. But Roslyn was decidedly more cautious, often troubled by the exuberant creativity that spawned such weird wild orgies in her head. Through years of experience with Roslyn, Jack had learned to temper his immediate enthusiasm for her delicious desires, trying to make certain that Roslyn was as ready for her fantasies as he was, before he'd make them real.
"C'mon, you're going to tell me sooner or later," Jack encouraged her.
Roslyn looked at him sheepishly. "Well, this sort of combines my most "out there" ideas," she began.
"In what way?" he asked.
"Well," she was hesitating like a guilty child, "I thought it would be really nasty if you spanked me in front of someone else."
Jack looked at her, surprised by her admission, though pleased. "An audience? Is that so?" he said at last.
"Yeah," she confirmed. "But listen, it can't be something contrived, it's got to be real, I mean I'd really want to get into it, really enjoy it. Goddam, it makes my belly churn just thinking of it."
"Good," Jack said. He was suddenly looking pensive, pondering carefully, as if he were right then deciding how to give his dear Roslyn this latest desire.
"But you don't have go out and make it happen tonight, I'm just telling you because . . . because you asked."
"Of course, trust me sweetie," there was a delicious smirk on his face. "Only when you're ready." He looked at her, loving her beautiful face and her soft fragrant body and her wild imagination and even her reluctance. He loved controlling her, though she was like putting a flame in a bottle, like capturing a savage tiger; the flame would go out if not allowed to breathe, and the wild tiger would not remain wild if he kept it captive too long.
All in good time, he thought to himself as he considered her desire, all in good time. This one requires delicacy
Some of their best times revolved around semi public exhibition. Roslyn was an exhibitionist who loved to flaunt her shapely body to admiring audiences. In their Jeep outside a girlie bar, Jack would fondle her tits and squeeze her nipples through her blouse, so some hot young stud in the car next to them couldn't help but see the show. What horny man wouldn't stop to enjoy the sight of a woman with her breasts seductively exposed, and a hand between her legs playing with her cunt?
After playing their game for a while, when Roslyn and Jack were so hot they couldn't stand it any longer, she'd flash the voyeur a last flirting smile, and Jack would drive away. They'd find some country road to mosey down so they could both get off, Roslyn first, followed by a quick blow job to Jack's stiff prick.
Their semi public frolics drove their sexual appetites nearly as high as their punishment rituals and spanking scenarios. They were never bored; there was so much creative variety in their love making and their lives.
They expressed what came naturally from their loins, preferring to be spontaneous rather than contrived. Trying to be too specific with any fantasy never really worked, and that was why Jack didn't often tell his wife what plans he had in mind. He was a maestro at taking Roslyn's raw creative material and setting up possibilities. What happened in the end was up to the moment and their immediate fancy.
And hour later, Jack asked again, "So what's this secret desire?" Instinct told him that Roslyn had the mysterious answer to her earlier quandary.
She fidgeted. That was a dead give away.
"I. . . I don't exactly know how to put this Jack . . ." she hedged.
"You usually don't have a problem telling me your thoughts."
That wasn't true at all, she thought. She had a hell of a time telling him things because she knew he'd only have more raw materials to work with. Before she knew it, she'd see her day dreams played out in real life. Sometimes before she was ready.
Jack never balked at anything; he never had a problem enjoying her outlandish sexual reveries, whether they were exhibitionist or spanking. But Roslyn was decidedly more cautious, often troubled by the exuberant creativity that spawned such weird wild orgies in her head. Through years of experience with Roslyn, Jack had learned to temper his immediate enthusiasm for her delicious desires, trying to make certain that Roslyn was as ready for her fantasies as he was, before he'd make them real.
"C'mon, you're going to tell me sooner or later," Jack encouraged her.
Roslyn looked at him sheepishly. "Well, this sort of combines my most "out there" ideas," she began.
"In what way?" he asked.
"Well," she was hesitating like a guilty child, "I thought it would be really nasty if you spanked me in front of someone else."
Jack looked at her, surprised by her admission, though pleased. "An audience? Is that so?" he said at last.
"Yeah," she confirmed. "But listen, it can't be something contrived, it's got to be real, I mean I'd really want to get into it, really enjoy it. Goddam, it makes my belly churn just thinking of it."
"Good," Jack said. He was suddenly looking pensive, pondering carefully, as if he were right then deciding how to give his dear Roslyn this latest desire.
"But you don't have go out and make it happen tonight, I'm just telling you because . . . because you asked."
"Of course, trust me sweetie," there was a delicious smirk on his face. "Only when you're ready." He looked at her, loving her beautiful face and her soft fragrant body and her wild imagination and even her reluctance. He loved controlling her, though she was like putting a flame in a bottle, like capturing a savage tiger; the flame would go out if not allowed to breathe, and the wild tiger would not remain wild if he kept it captive too long.
All in good time, he thought to himself as he considered her desire, all in good time. This one requires delicacy
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