(OK, I just realized I misspelled “Impertinence” but I can’t change the title of the blog at this point or the link will be broken. But I had to mention it or it would bother me like an itch I can’t scratch!)
Thank you for coming back! This is WIP it up – for Works In Progress. Refining Fire, Book 3 of the Finding Home series, is due to be out the end of the month. Liz and Jenny have both been working really hard, and their men have decided they need some time off.
A moment later, Liz joined her on the floor, bare skin brushing against Jenny’s arm and hip, both girls now kneeling submissively before the masters of their hearts.
“Ryan, that’s an incredibly beautiful sight. We are really lucky, aren’t we?” Michael shook his head.
“Yep,” Ryan sighed. “Why didn’t we realize it sooner?”
“Because we’re men, and idiots.”
As if on cue, both girls giggled at that statement.
The two men looked at each other.
“You going to let that go, mate?” Ryan inquired to his best friend.
“Hell, no.” And as if they had choreographed their moves, each picked up his respective wife with one arm wrapped around her waist. Michael fell onto the overstuffed lounge chair with a suddenly squirming Jenny laid neatly over his lap. Ryan fell onto the couch with an equally indignant Liz, and as one they raised their large strong hands and brought them smartly down on their girl’s creamy smooth ass. Liz kept her protest to a squeak, but Jenny let out a yelp.
The men paused to admire the perfect red imprint on each other’s wife. “Nice one,” commented Ryan.
“Thanks! Likewise,” quipped Michael. “How many, for impertinence?”
“Impertinence!?” squawked Jenny. “YOU called yourselves idiots. WE just agreed!”
“Jenny! Stop making it worse,” begged Liz from underneath the curtain of her blond hair that hung down to the floor. “Even if it IS true!”
The men heard a giggle and looked at each other with raised eyebrows and grins. This was going to be so much fun.
Without another word, they laid into each girl. It only took a few more smacks for the wiggling and giggling to change to shrieking and struggling. Jenny was the first to throw her hands up and behind to try to block the smacks, and was therefore the first to have both wrists pinned to her back. She struggled even harder, and with a sigh of exasperation, Michael slipped one of his legs over her kicking limbs, neatly pinning them in place.
“I don’t think you trained this one as well as that one,” groused Michael.
“Hey, whaddya expect? I had mine for four years, and yours for only eight months. You can’t perform miracles in eight months you know.”
Jenny started to shriek out an indignant protest, but Michael anticipated it and reached between her legs to tweak her clit, turning her insult into a cry of pleasure instead.
Liz, who wasn’t feeling like being the poster child for a perfect slave right then, took up where Jenny had tried to go. “You had it easy ‘cause I decided I liked being spanked. I’m not usually that easy to tame ooohhhh!!!!!”
Her monologue was rudely interrupted as Ryan placed a flurry of short sharp spanks on one very specific spot on one thigh that was going to be very sore for a few days. She abandoned her carefully-held obedience, letting herself yell and flounder around.
Ryan, as broad and strong as Liz was small, sighed, pinned her swinging arms against her back, and gripped her tighter. They would be here a while.