LSF Publications: spanking fiction ebooks

This Thing That We Do
Was it a game they played or was it for real? Neither answer to that question really satisfied. Maybe both of them had their own reasons or at least, their own questions. For as lifestyles went, each day brought more questions than answers.

To call it a game was to trivialise something important to both of them. After all, their lives were a quest for order, a perfect pursuit of improved imperfection. They danced together amid sometimes shifting rules, each trying to better the other.

It was certainly real for them, but it was their own kind of reality. Not one normally drawn upon in the wider world. For what they did and what they shared was far too unfashionable, too fundamental for that.

Michael was pushing 50, although she swore he looked younger. He certainly still had his own hair, albeit largely grey, and his stomach was more or less washboard flat. And although he wasn't particularly tall, he was a head or more above her with a decent enough physique for a man 10 years younger. She particularly liked his arms that were thick from the biceps and hung from powerful shoulders.

He might have said that she saw him through the lens of love, for God knew he had his issues as time went by. He didn't bounce as easily as he had for one thing, and something had no sooner healed when another ache appeared.

Polly was much younger than he, still in her 30s and looking well on it. She was a little below average height for a woman, although most people would not wish to be on her bad side. Proudly ginger, she took no prisoners and had the fiery temper to go with it. Her curves were a little fuller than she would have liked and if she hadn't been such a keen runner she might have drifted too far towards chubby for her liking.

She was a proud, independent, professional woman whose education was every bit the match for her rather bookish husband, and in her life she had made some hard choices. One choice she had never regretted was Michael and their life together, even as unconventional as it may have been.

They were two people on a mission to re-craft their lives to their own needs. Beyond judgement, although others would judge them if they knew; beyond even what had gone before. Although each had a vast pool of fantasy and desire to draw upon as they fused two dreams into one.

For her there could be no easy submission. True, she wanted him to win, for his victory was the only road available to her own. But his triumph could only follow her soul-tearing best effort to defeat him. The open secret between them was that she demanded to be conquered only after a true battle.

For him the nature of their relationship was far from clear.