Disclaimer: All publicly recognizable characters, settings, etc. are the property of their respective owners. The original characters and plot are the property of the author. The author is in no way associated with the owners, creators, or producers of any media franchise. No copyright infringement is intended.

Jim and Pam were silent in the car on the way home from work. It was a thoughtful silence, as they both had a lot to consider after a brief conversation became far more complicated than they ever thought possible.

It was autumn and the changing trees formed shadows on their laps as they traveled the streets that led to their home. Pam’s favorite time of autumn was the brisk temperatures in the air, a welcome relief from the summer heat. She stole a glance at Jim, who looked to be deep in thought. One hand was at the top of the steering wheel while the other one toyed with the smooth, gray interior overhead. She knew that he was replaying their lunchtime conversation in his mind. Jim sensed that he was being watched and glanced in Pam’s direction. Her face, while calm, carried an undertone of concern. His face broke into a reassuring smile and he moved his left hand to the wheel, so he could reach for her hand with his right. Interweaving her fingers with his, Pam rested their hands on her thigh. She loved his hands, especially their quiet strength in times like these. Jim steered the car around one more corner and then under the carport next to their house. Usually, at the end of the workday, they left the car in the driveway. Sometimes they changed into jeans and t-shirts and headed back out to Cooper’s or Cugino’s. Other times, a quick dinner run to the supermarket was needed. This evening was different. They would definitely be staying in this evening.

Jim turned off the car and removed the keys from the ignition. He was quiet for a few seconds, then looked cautiously at his wife.

“Are you sure this is what you want?” he asked. He was both hopeful and a little bit fearful that the answer would be “yes”.

Pam nodded slowly and confidently. She turned her body toward him and replied, “I do. I really do.”

Jim exhaled and handed her his keys to the house. “All right, then,” he said and then the timbre of his voice became deeper and more authoritative. “Go inside. Change out of your clothes. I want you to be waiting on our bed and I only want you to be wearing a t-shirt and panties. Do you understand me?”

She shivered slightly. It was a rarity for her to hear Jim use that tone of voice, especially when speaking to her. She searched through the key ring for the key to the front door, possibly stalling a bit. She looked up at his face, which held a very expectant and stern expression. “Now. Please.”

“Okay,” she said, meekly, opening the car door. She reached into the backseat for her brown leather purse. Her stomach started twisting nervously as she wondered exactly what she had gotten herself into. Pam walked up the sidewalk to the door and turned to see if Jim was following her. He wasn’t. He was still in the driver’s seat, rubbing his chin thoughtfully. He looked her way and noticed she was watching and waiting. A jerk of his chin implied that she should go in and he would follow.

The house was cool and silent. She turned on the end table lamp and laid her purse on the couch. After briefly checking to see if there were any messages on the answering machine, Pam headed upstairs to the master bedroom, still listening for the sound of the front door.

After a few more minutes, Jim exited the car and headed for the house. He wasn’t sure he could do this and he was surprised that Pam had even asked for it. His wife, the absolute love of his life, wanted him to punish her; to spank her. On her way past his desk as she was heading to the kitchen, she leaned down next to his ear. In a voice soft enough for only him, she whispered, “I feel like I need to be spanked and I want you to do it.” Positive he had not heard her correctly, he pushed back his chair and followed her. Thankfully, the kitchen was empty. When he entered, he looked at her with a completely mystified, if not aroused, expression on his face. In a low voice, he asked, “So, did I hear you right? Did you tell me that you want to be punished? That you want me to . . . spank you?”

Pam’s cheeks flushed scarlet and she felt a little bit squirmy inside. But she made eye contact with him and quietly said, “You heard me correctly and I want it to happen this evening after work.” The confident, new Beesly slipped away briefly, and she added, “Please?” Jim was more than a little dumbfounded as he regarded her. When he realized that she was quite serious, he said, “Okay. This evening. After work.” Her eyes widened as she looked up at his face. Then her eyes dropped and, staring at the linoleum, she murmured, “All right.”

That was hours ago and now he was making his way into the house and this was actually happening. He closed the front door, then locked it out of habit. For a few minutes, he stood in their entryway and studied the framed photos of the two of them. His favorite was the picture take at the apple orchard. They both had pink cheeks and Pam had this incredible sparkle in her eyes. He was deeply and passionately in love with that woman. Jim headed to the kitchen to grab a drink of water and calm his nerves.

Meanwhile, Pam was upstairs, sitting on their bed. The house was almost deafeningly quiet. She’d shed her gray pencil skirt, wine-colored blouse, and dark gray cardigan and laid them on top of the hamper. Now she was wearing her favorite light green t-shirt. She loved it because the soft, brushed cotton only got softer with each wash. Plus, Jim couldn’t keep his hands to himself when she wore it. He loved how it fit closely to her frame. She noticed the length barely reached the top of her thighs and shivered a little. Rather than wring her hands or pick nervously at her cuticles, she tucked them under her lap. Pam really didn’t know how long it would be before Jim came upstairs. The waiting was both terrifying and exquisite, as she allowed her mind to wander.

She was just eight years old and it was a warm spring afternoon. Even though it was Saturday, her father had gone into the office. To tie up a few loose end, he’d said. Pam and Penny, who was four years-old, helped their mother with the weekend chores of bed-making, dusting, and folding and delivering laundry. Once they’d finished and after lunch, Pam asked, “Mama, can Penny and I go play at the playground?” Helene thought a moment and said, “Yes, but only for about thirty minutes because Penny will need to take her afternoon nap. I’ll come get you two when it’s time.” Pam grabbed her sandals and put them on. Penny put her sandals on by herself and just needed a little help with the stiff buckle part. They left the house and walked to the playground only four houses away. Penny ran to the swings and sat in one. “Pammy! Push me, please!” Pam was happy to push her sister for a while and then attempted to teach her how to pump her legs. Penny tried, but wasn’t able to manage to gain enough momentum to keep herself going. “Maybe when I’m five I can do it,“ she said, as she hopped off and trotted over to the twirly slide. They raced to see who could climb the steps and slide down the fastest. Penny was quick, but not always quick enough. So Pam, who was a good big sister, slowed down enough that Penny could win every so often.

After watching Penny bury her feet in the sand, Pam said, “You know, there’s another playground in our neighborhood. And it has one of those merry-go-rounds.” Penny exclaimed, “Oh, yeah! Daddy took us one time and he spinned us and he spinned us and we got sooo dizzy! I love that park!” Pam considered a moment. She tried figuring how much time they had left before their mother came to collect them. Since they had only been on the swings and the slide, she calculated that they had enough time to walk the few blocks, spin on the merry-go-round for a little while, then come back to this playground until their mother arrived.

“Hey, Penny? Why don’t we go to that one for just a little while?” Ever the honest four-year old, Penny said, “No, Pammy. Mama said we could go to this playground,” pointing at the grass beneath her feet. Pam argued, “But we can be really fast and come right back!” and studied her sister’s expression. Reluctantly, Penny said, “Okay . . .” and they headed off at a rapid pace. Every so often, Pam would get too far ahead and would stop and wait for her sister to catch up.

The playground was further than she’d remembered, but they kept going. Finally, they reached their second playground of the afternoon. Pam felt a little worried about what they had just done because she rarely disobeyed like this. Within minutes, though, she and Penny were having a splendid time on the merry-go-round and Pam lost track of time. She was lying on her back next to Penny as they gazed up into the clouds. She heard a car door slam and quickly sat up. It was her family’s maroon station wagon and her mother was walking briskly their way. Pam’s stomach dropped as she glanced at her little sister, then at her mother.

“Pamela Morgan Beesly! What on earth are you doing here?! I have been looking for you two for almost an hour!”

“I’m sorry, Mama,” Pam forced out the words, as tears formed in the corners of her eyes. Penny started wailing immediately. Helene took each of her daughters’ hands and led them to the car to head home. Pam stared out the window and sniffled all the way back to the house. Her mother carried a sound asleep Penny to the girls’ bedroom and laid her on the bottom bunk. Pam had been instructed to wait on the stool in the corner of the living room. She couldn’t remember the last time she’d had to sit on that stool. Tears flowed freely as her mother entered the room. She sat on the edge of the couch cushion, curled her finger at her daughter, and said, “Come here, Pamela.” Her mother only used her formal name when she was in trouble. Pam stood up and slowly walked over. Helene positioned her daughter so that she was standing in front of her and made direct eye contact with her eight-year old. “You disobeyed me. And you went beyond your boundaries without permission and brought your little sister with you. I was worried when I didn’t see you two and I was so disappointed and angry when I realized what you had done.” Nothing made Pam cry more easily than disappointing her mother. “I’m sorry, Mama . . . I won’t ever do it again.”

“I should hope not," Helene emphasized, “and you’re getting a spanking for what you did.” Pam cried even harder. “No, Mama, I don’t want a spanking. Please!” as she reached behind herself to cover her bottom. “You know the consequences for disobeying,” Helene stated, calmly. “Now bend over.” Pam knew she wasn’t going to change her mother’s mind. After several seconds of not moving, she gave one more tearful look and slowly laid herself over her mother’s lap. Helene lifted Pam’s sundress to expose the matching bloomers underneath. Pam kicked her legs outward at the sensation of the cool air. Her mother raised her hand and brought it sharply down on her bottom. Pam’s skin stung as tears streamed down her cheeks. She received several more stern swats until her mother felt that a lesson has been learned. Helene lowered Pam’s sundress and lifted her sobbing little girl to sit on her lap. She look her chin in hand and lifted her face. “I love you,” she said, “and I hope you never sneak away again.” She hugged her as Pam said, “Yes, Mama. I won’t do it again. I promise.”

The memory faded as she heard her husband’s footsteps on the stairs.

She looked up as he entered the room and they regarded each other for a brief moment. The stern look was still in his eyes, which made her drop her gaze to her thighs. He pulled out the upholstered bench from her vanity table and sat down. He rested his forearms on his lap and let his folded hands fall down in the middle, and then he spoke.

“I think you know why you're here,” he said. Pam looked up and started to answer. Jim quickly continued, “Because I seem to remember that a day or so ago, you got pulled over for texting while driving.” Pam's eyes widened. It was true. She had been pulled over on the way home from the grocery store, but the police officer released her with only a warning. When she told Jim about it, he was nonplussed but seemed to have let it go. This fantasy of hers just got a giant shove into reality.

“I only got a warning ticket,” she offered, feebly.

“That doesn't matter, “ he immediately interrupted. “What matters is, you could have been hurt or you could have hurt someone else.”

“But it was the only time I have ever even done it,” she protested, hating the sound of her voice and that she was even arguing her case.

He leveled his gaze directly to her eyes. “Really?” he asked, flatly.

After a couple of seconds of holding his gaze, she once again dropped her eyes and softly admitted, “No.”

He sat up straighter as he sighed, “That's what I was afraid of.”

“I know . . . I'm sorry,” she said. “I haven't done it since and I won't do it again.”

“I believe you,” Jim said, “But I want to make absolutely sure that you remember this and that you don't do it again.” He paused for a few seconds. “You're getting spanked for this.”

There. He had said it. He knew she could end this and back out.

At his words, Pam's stomach twisted in apprehension and she clasped her hands together briefly. Even though this was uncharted territory for them, in her heart of hearts, she knew she wanted this. “I'm sorry,” she offered again, looking into his eyes. She gave him the slightest of nods.

Jim exhaled a breath he didn't even realize he had been holding. Accepting her nod as compliance, he said, “I know you are. Now come here.”

Pam slid off their bed and walked the few short steps over to her husband. She stood in front of him as he reached out and took both of her hands into his.

“I love you so much,” Jim said, seriously. “And I want you to be safe. I need you to be safe. Pam, I can't even handle the thought of you hurt or worse . . .” His voice trailed off because he just couldn't bring himself to say the words.

Tears welled up in Pam's eyes and threatened to spill over as she slowly nodded. She hated this feeling of Jim being frightened and disappointed in her because of her behavior.

She let herself be guided by him to the side of his lap, feeling the world move slowly as if she were in a dream. “Jim . . .,” she whispered, almost pleadingly, “I'm really sorry.”

“I know, baby,” he said, “But this has to be done. Now bend over.”

He took her by the hand and she allowed herself to be ushered downward and draped over his lap. Her hands scrambled a bit as she searched for balance and she felt a bit breathless from the sudden, firm pressure of her abdomen against his legs. She felt Jim place a hand on the small of her back to steady her and possibly to control her movements. After a second, she felt him place his other hand lightly on her panty-covered bottom His hand was so large, it felt like it covered her almost entirely. Pam released a whimper at this new sensation and started squirming on his lap. His hand pressed more firmly on her back. “Be still.” he said in an authoritatively. Instantly, Pam became still, quickly responding to his tone of voice. He lifted his hand and brought it sharply onto the center of her bottom. A shock snapped through Pam's entire body and she kicked her legs straight out. “Be still, “Jim repeated and swatted again. Her rear already felt like it was on fire and she struggled to still herself. Jim continued to spank her and began to speak. “I need to know that you will be safe from now on. I never thought you would be so foolish and text and drive at the same time, Pam.”

The weight of his voice and the gravity of the situation squeezed her heart. Tears of shame began to roll down her cheeks. She hadn't really expected to cry but she knew she deserved this spanking and released a long, shuddering sigh as she wiped at her cheeks. When Jim heard this, he knew that he was driving the point home. He could see that her bottom was turning pink and could feel the warmth radiate off her skin. His hand was beginning to sting and he paused briefly. Confused, Pam looked tearily over her shoulder. She felt him pat her backside gently and then he quietly helped her to her feet. Immediately, her hands flew behind her as she tried to rub out the sting.

Jim said, “It's not over yet,” and Pam's eyes widened as she sniffled loudly. Her eyes grew wider still when she saw him turn to pick up her wooden hairbrush from her vanity. She felt a little bit panicked as she realized what was about to happen. She bounced up and down with her knees and protested, ”No, no, no! Please not the hairbrush!” feeling very much like a very childish version of herself. A patient, yet unyielding expression entered Jim's face. “Pam. Yes. I need to know that you have learned your lesson. After I spank you with your hairbrush, it will all be over. Now, do you want to pull down your panties on your own or do you want me to do it?” Pam knew that was an impossible choice since she didn't want either to happen. She only managed to shake her head.

“That's not really an answer, “ he said, arching his eyebrows. He reached out deliberately and tenderly to hold her waist as he captured his gaze. Even through her new set of tears, he saw quiet acceptance. Jim hooked his thumbs into the elastic waistband and tugged her panties downward until they hit the floor. Pam placed a hand on each of his shoulders for balance as she stepped out. Once again, her hands went behind her as she covered her bottom underneath her green t-shirt. Jim guided her to the side of his lap, feeling the resistance of Pam's feet dragging the carpet. She balked a little bit more this time as she was maneuvered over his knees.

“Please . . .,” she said, her voice catching in her throat.

“Eight swats,” was Jim's reply, and Pam let out a sob.

“Honey, please, I won't do it again. I won't, I won't, I won't . . .”

She felt the coolness of the lacquered wood rest on her bare skin and instinctively tensed.

“Pam . . . relax your bottom, please,” Jim said in a low voice, stroking her back. He waited patiently as she gathered every ounce of self-control and courage she possessed and gradually relaxed.

“Good girl,” he said. “Eight.” he repeated and lifted his arm halfway. He flicked his wrist to lay a stinging swat onto her bottom. He had zero intention of using even half his strength. Immediately, he could see a pink oval begin to form on her soft skin. Pam squeaked at the first blow and fought the urge to reach backward in protection. Three more swats and the tears flowed freely and she could not help it. She desperately reached behind her back in an attempt to cover herself, as the balls of her feet drummed the carpet.

“Move your hands,” Jim ordered. A few seconds passed. He had to repeat himself sternly and watched as she reluctantly placed her hands in front again. She found his forearm and held on to it. “I'm sorry,” she sobbed, quietly. Even though Jim's expression and tone of voice was stoic, he felt ready to end this so he could gather his sweet wife up into his lap and hold her in his arms. Four more flicks of his wrist, four more little squeaks, and he let the hairbrush fall to the carpet.

Pam was openly crying as he awkwardly pulled her to a sitting position on his knee. She laid her head on his shoulder and wrapped her arms around his neck. He encircled his arms around her waist and laid his cheek on the top of her head. He subconsciously began rocking his body from side to side and he quietly said,”I love you, baby.” It was muffled but he heard an “I love you, too.” Gently, he lifted her chin so he could see her face. Her mascara had run and she had red blotches that were beginning to fade to pink. A couple tear stains remained on her flushed cheeks.

Jim kissed her delicately on her lips and she released a shaky, cleansing sigh and laid her head back down on his shoulder. After a few seconds, he heard her yawn and he knew she was exhausted. Jim stroked Pam's tousled hair and felt her body relax into his.

“Hey,” he whispered, “Let's get you to bed. I'll take care of dinner and wake you up when it's time.”

“Mmmmpf . . . okay,” she replied, shakily standing on the carpet. Jim held her elbow to help her become steady and with his other hand pulled back the comforter and top sheet. She slid in between the cool, cotton sheets and curled up on her side, facing him. She tucked her hands underneath her pillow as he covered her. Suddenly, completely overcome with his love for her, along with what had just transpired, he dropped to his knees so they were face to face.

“Pam . . . I love you so much. I . . .,” and words faded him as he felt tears brimming. Love overflowed her eyes and she whispered, “I love you,” and then, “thank you,” as she drifted off to sleep.

Jim stayed in their room until he was sure Pam was sound asleep. He closed the door quietly and headed downstairs to the kitchen. The realization quickly set in that while dinner still need to be put together, he was still feeling overwhelmed by the events of the evening. He sat down at the kitchen table and propped his chin. He couldn't believe that Pam had asked him to spank her and that he had actually been willing to go through with it, along with the fact that she had not backed out at the last second. He found himself staggered by the strength of his love for her. Running his hand over his face, he stood up, thinking about dinner. Pam would certainly be starving after such a long evening and a later dinner than usual. He busied himself seasoning four chicken breasts to grill on the George Foreman grill that Pam had bought him as a gag gift at Christmas. Jim figured he would definitely eat two of the breasts and wanted Pam to have the option of eating two, even though she usually only ate one. He tossed a bagged salad and added halved grape tomatoes, her favorite. After warming some crusty rolls in the oven, he set the table, checking to make sure he hadn't forgotten anything. The bottle of house dressing from Cugino's, wine, and wine glasses made it complete.

It was nearly an hour later when Jim headed back upstairs to the bedroom. Opening the door, he could hear her soft, even breathing. The streetlight was shining through the window by this time. Most nights, it was an inconvenience that was blocked out by the blinds. Tonight, however, the warm light cast upon his sleeping wife made her look absolutely angelic and he almost couldn't bring himself to break the spell. He knelt by the bed once again and reached out to smooth a curl off her cheek and behind her ear. The sensation made her eyes open slowly and focus on him, giving him a languid and well-rested smile.

“Dinner's ready,” he said. “Do you want to come down and eat?” She rolled to her back, stretched her arms over her head and extended her legs as far as possible for a few seconds. With a satisfied sigh, she answered, “Yes.”

Pam uncovered herself and stood up, still naked from the waist down. She glanced around to find her discarded panties from earlier. Jim picked them up from under the vanity bench. He really wanted to help her put them back on but wasn't sure of her reaction, so he handed them to her with one raised eyebrow. “The blinds downstairs are all closed. You don't have to put on pants.” Smiling as she dressed, Pam said, “Perfect.”

At the bottom of the staircase, she paused and took his face in her hands, pulling him in for a kiss. Their lips touched gently, igniting an instant spark of passion. The kiss deepened and as their tongues touched, she pressed him back against the wall. He moaned into her mouth and pushed his hands through her curls, then down her back to her bottom and pulled her toward him. She winced just a tiny bit and he caught her expression.

“Are you--?” he began.

“Still a little sore? Yes,” she admitted. “But believe me, it's a good kind of sore,” as she allowed her hands to drop below his waist, feeling how hard he had gotten.
He murmured, “Pam . . .,” and she raised an eyebrow playfully, as she moved her hands away from where he wanted them most.
“I am starving! Dinner smells great,” and sashayed away to the table. Groaning inwardly at the sight of the sexy walk his wife had just given for his benefit, he joined her at the table. Two chicken breasts apiece later and splitting the last dinner roll between them, they left the dishes and relocated to the couch. Pam snuggled against Jim. This was her favorite place in the world and he knew it . . . because it was also his favorite place. They were silently contemplative for a minute or two, then Pam looked up at him with a twinkle in her eyes.

“I can't believe you spanked me with my hairbrush,” she said, elbowing him slightly. “Brute.”

Chuckling, Jim replied, “I can't believe you whined about it so much . . . Baby.”

“Okay, I see how it's gonna be,” she giggled.

Then she said, “Seriously, though. You're a good spanker.” He replied, “Well . . . thank you?” She nodded and then twisted her hands together, “I can guarantee you I won't text and drive again.”

“Good.” Jim affirmed, nodding and taking her hands into his, “I'm glad you learned your lesson.”

“Definitely learned,” she replied, regarding him closely. She continued to hold his gaze until he finally said, “What?”

“I just wanted to know if you were ever spanked as a kid,” she asked.

“Oh, man . . .,”he said, “Definitely yes, and definitely more than once. I have two brothers and a sister. Someone was always in trouble at any given time at my house.”

“Tell me?” Pam pumped for more information. “Tell me a story about when you were in the most trouble.”

“Really?” he said, “Gosh, it could be hard to narrow down to just one. Like I said, someone was always in trouble on any given day.”

“Then it shouldn't be hard to think of one,” she said, not giving up.

Pam adored when he told stories of his childhood. She had managed to snag a photo album when they last visited his parents' house. After lunch, she sat alongside Betsy as they leafed through the pages. She told the stories, always happy to talk about her baby, Jimmy. Jim sat in the recliner that day and listened, just in case he needed to clear his name on some of those stories being shared by his mother. And the expression on his face was akin to the expression he held at his barbecue as he watched Pam pore over his yearbook. She was good at snagging anything that had photos of him. And he was a pretty cute kid, if he said so himself.

“I think you're stalling,” Pam said, patting his thigh. Even though she knew it would be a story he probably wouldn't want to tell on himself, she was confident he would indulge her curiosity.

“All right, Beesly,” he laughed. “When I was nine,” he smiled down at her, “I escaped from Mass on a Sunday morning and was discovered by a nun, who delivered me back to my family in the sanctuary.”

“You did what?!” Pam exclaimed, “And you got caught by a nun? Oh, I need more details, please!”

“Well, it was during the liturgy. Pete had been jabbing my leg the whole time. And every time we knelt, Tom shoved into me to make me lose my balance. He was being just sneaky enough about it that my parents weren't seeing it. Usually, Larissa was my buffer between me and my brothers. But she had stayed home sick that morning.”

“And then what happened?”

“I decided I'd had enough and I pretty much knew that making any kind of fuss about it in church wouldn't end well for anyone. So my alternate solution was to fib and say I had to use the bathroom so I could get away from my brothers for awhile.”

“Smart.”

“Except as I was walking down the windowed hallway to the restrooms, I could see out into the empty courtyard where there was a sitting area with grass and benches. I looked around to see if I was alone then I went outside and headed for the benches. I could just barely hear the organ playing inside and figured I would stay outside until I couldn't hear it anymore. Well, sitting on a bench quickly turned into running and jumping over them and trying my best to leap from bench to bench. And then I hear a voice call out, 'Young man! Come here at once.” I was totally busted. I walked her way and she took me by the hand, which made me feel like a baby. She asked me my name and where I was supposed to be. And then she walked me up the aisle until we got to the row where my family was sitting. I don't think I can accurately describe to you the look in my mother's eyes, or my dad's, for that matter. My shirt was untucked and my face was red and sweaty. I was basically a mess by that point. I slid into the pew and sat down. Tom and Pete didn't even budge. They knew exactly how much trouble I was in and suddenly became perfect angels,” he said, wryly.

“Wow,” Pam said, “I've never seen your mother mad before or your brothers act like angels.”

“Right. Well, she was pretty hot. By that time, Mass was just about over and the priest made a few announcements, then we were out of there. My brothers were mad because we went straight to the car, instead of to the fellowship hall for doughnuts and juice. I got elbowed a couple times in the backseat for that but I was too miserable to care.

“I bet,” Pam remarked.

“Our Sunday routine was to come home, change out of church clothes, eat a quick lunch and then relax for the rest of the afternoon.” Larissa met me in the hallway just as my mom said, 'Jimmy, go wait in our room.' My sister then knew something was up and asked, 'What'd you do?' I didn't want to answer her question so I just made a face at her before I went into my parents' room and shut the door.”

“It seemed like I had to wait in there forever. I could hear the conversations and the table being set for lunch. I didn't know if it would be my mom or my dad who came into the room and I couldn't really decide which would be worse. Mom, who always used the wooden spoon, or Dad, who tended to use his hand but also would use the belt if he was really steamed. He had seemed pretty steamed, so I then decided to hope for my mom because I hated getting the belt.”

Pam snuggled deeper into Jim's side, feeling protective of him and the nine-year old version of her husband.

“Their door opened and Mom came in, carrying the wooden spoon like I knew she would be.”

Pam released the tiniest sigh of relief and Jim heard her. He smoothed his hand over her hair, smiling.

“I got a really good and stern lecture from her about lying and being sneaky and embarrassing her when a nun had to bring me to her. I didn't really get into major trouble very often. Mischief, yes. But the major stuff was mostly left up to my brothers. So I was crying before she even finished her lecture and I knew what was coming next. She told me to bend over her lap, which I hated since I was nine and already getting tall. But I sure wasn't going to struggle with her. I didn't want her to call my dad in to deal with me. She spanked me pretty good with that wooden spoon. I was still wearing my dress pants and they were super thin, so they offered, like, zero protection. I don't even remember how many swats she gave me but it was more than usual. There was a definite lesson being taught. A couple of times I tried sliding off her lap, but she didn't allow that to happen. I was a sobbing mess by the time it was over.”

He laughed, “That wooden spoon was evil.”

Pam was quiet. He looked down at her and asked, “You okay?” She nodded and climbed up on her knees to hug him around the neck.

“Hey, hey, hey . . .” he soothed her, “You don't have to worry about this or me or anything. You know my parents. You know they parented with love. I deserved what I got. I think a nun returning me to my parents was almost worse than if it had been a cop.”

Pam chuckled and sat back down, ready to listen to the rest.

“So anyway, Mom hugged me and gave me some time to compose myself before heading to my shared bedroom to change into play clothes. My brothers had already finished their lunch and were out in the tool shed, building some instrument of doom or something. Larissa came to check on me after I'd changed. She hadn't eaten her lunch yet because was waiting to see if I was okay. You know Larissa. I think she thought when I was born, Mom had had another baby just for her. Mom, Dad, Larissa, and I ate lunch and then Larissa and I played chess until it was time to do homework."

Imitating the radio personality, Paul Harvey's, voice, he said, “And that's . . . the rest of the story.”

Pam giggled at his impression. His ability to mimic was uncanny and never failed to make her happy.

“Good story,” she said. “I hardy ever got into trouble as a kid. I was kind of a perfect angel.” Her eyes sparkled, teasingly.

Jim scoffed playfully and reached for his phone on the end table. “Seems like I need to make a phone call for confirmation of this information.”

Pam grabbed for his phone but he deftly held it out of her reach.

“Now, who to call?” he wondered aloud, “Penny or Helene?”

“Oh, my gosh, don't you dare!” Pam squealed, practically climbing his frame to reach the phone, only to have him stretch even farther away. Cursing his length, but knowing his weakness, she tickled his ribs, causing him to squirm and curl his body downward just enough that she was able to wrest it out of his hand. She leapt to her feet and scampered upstairs with it. Jim was right on her heels. She stopped at the aquarium on the landing and held his phone over the water, eyebrow raised and eyes twinkling. Jim stopped short when he saw what she was doing, contemplated a moment, then decided to call her bluff. He stepped toward her and she lowered his phone closer to the water. He threw up his hands and said, “Okay, okay! You win this round, Beesly. I won't call your mother.”

“Or my sister,” Pam clarified.

“Or your sister,” Jim promised.

She studied him for a few seconds, then tossed the phone to him. Catching it, he said, “I won't call them . . . today,” and grinned.

“OH, you!” Pam exclaimed, rushing into his arms.

“I am curious, however, how a perfect angel would think of stealing someone's phone and then threaten to drop it into a fish tank to get what she wants.”

“Guess I'm not that much of a perfect angel after all,” she said, looking into his eyes, sweetly.

He wrapped his arms around her waist and said, “Oh, I beg to differ. You are my perfect angel,” and leaned down to kiss her on the forehead.

She slid her hands behind him and lifted her face for a kiss. Happy to oblige, he cupped her chin and raised it gently to kiss her softly. Pam kissed back harder and his eyes flew open in shock and arousal. The buildup of the evening was culminating into a massive amount of sexual desire. Jim felt Pam push her tongue into his mouth and he pressed his back into hers. An incredible heat was intensifying faster than they could imagine. Jim slipped his hands under her shirt, relishing the feel of her smooth, warm skin under his fingers. She moaned at the sensation of his hands traveling slowly up her torso, leaving a trail of fire. That was a Jim move that never failed to make her skin tingle in all the right places. Seconds later, she felt his hands graze the sides of her breasts and her entire body shivered. “Oh my God, I want you sooo badddd,” she practically growled. Without responding, he covered each bare breast with his strong, warm hands and crashed his mouth back onto hers. Her hands started grabbing at his shirt, desperately trying to untuck it and search for buttons all at the same time. Before she could do that, he was already tugging her green shirt up and over her head and she allowed it to be removed and tossed away. Sometimes she still felt modest when she was exposed and uncovered. Even though she was only wearing her panties, this was not one of these times. Jim could see her nipples harden and a small damp spot on her panties. He was definitely hard and wanting and he scooped her up and gruffly said, “Bedroom?”

“Bedroom,” she gasped.

He carried her with ease the several steps to their bed as she peppered his neck with hot kisses, tasting a slight hint of salt. He laid her down and started to unbuckle his belt, staring into her eyes. Jim slowly pulled it through each loop, just trying to tease her and, God was it working. She sat up and started to unbutton his pants and did a little teasing of her own, pulling down the zipper down slowly, notch by notch. She covered his bulge with both hands and automatically his hips bucked forward, eyes filled with desire and pleading.

“Shit—Pam, “he garbled his words as she pulled down both his black boxer briefs and khaki pants. As they fell toward the floor, she already had her small, cool hands on him. One hand gripped his hot, heavy length and the other softly stroked the very tip, lubricating him with the bead of pre-cum that was seeping out.

“Oh my God, you're going to kill me,” he groaned as she began to alternately stroke him up and down and slowly lick up the underside. His eyes darkened with unabashed desire as he gasped for breath and softly placed his hands on her head.

“Oh, really?” she said, smiling saucily up at him.

“God, please YES!” he practically was begging. Pam took him in her mouth and gently began to suck as her hands made up the difference, gripping him, stroking him, lightly caressing his balls until she could only hear the sound of his breathing. His entire body was taut and his fingers entwined gently in her curls as she continued to work him with her tongue. His balls started to tighten and she heard his breath hitch in his throat. Pam was ready and willing to take him all the way, her belly filled with a white hot coil begging for release. But he pleaded with her to stop. “No way am I finished with you yet,” he panted. He tore off the rest of his clothes and crawled into bed, gradually laying her down with him.

“These,” he said, smoothing his hand over her panties, “need to come off right now,” and he hooked his thumbs under the elastic waistband. She lifted her hips to help him pull them off and toss them to the side in one fluid motion. Admiring the sight of his now naked wife, he ran his hands over her flat stomach all the way up to her breasts. A sighing noise emanated from the back of her throat and he could not resist her a second longer. He needed to hear that sound again and lightly suckled her left nipple as he rolled the other between his fingers. Pam's vision blurred with arousal as she felt herself become slick and wet between her legs. He switched to the other breast and flicked her nipple with his tongue. She arched her body from the bed and barely managed to gasp his name. He pressed his lips against hers and she felt the room spin. Pam was hardly aware of Jim's hand sliding down her abdomen. Below her navel. Past her damp, curl-covered mound. To his ultimate destination. As he cupped her between her legs, he could feel the raw heat radiating into his hand. He slid his finger through her slit once, gathering the sweet juice. She panted in his ear as his finger drew nearer and nearer to her opening. Once he found it, he made it his toy, barely dipping the tip into her center., then sliding back out, over and over again. He knows the territory, he knows that it makes her crazy hot because she was now so slick he could barely feel skin. She cried out and begged of him, “Please . . . Jim . . . please . . . please.” The desperation and desire in her voice sparked within him and he made a new goal; he wanted to hear her scream. Gazing in her eyes briefly, he shifted downward. Her legs were bent at the knees and trembling slightly. Jim held each knee and slowly pushed them apart. She relaxed and let her legs butterfly all the way down to the sheets, completely exposing herself to him. He nestled himself in place and saw just how aroused and ready she was. Her lips were swollen open and she was practically glistening. He dragged each hand slowly up the sensitive insides of her thighs which produced a whimper of anticipation from above. His hands reached the place where her legs and mound meet and he gently spread her lips open further. “Oh. My. God. JIM, “ she panted, loudly She felt his hot breath before the sweet sensation of his tongue as he lapped from her opening all the way up her entire length yet avoiding her clit. Pam whined and shifted to try to get him to please make contact where she wanted it most. But he had a plan. Three more times he ran his tongue through her juices, stopping briefly to press the tip inside. She felt like she was going to lose her mind with excitement. Her insides curled tightly and ached for release. “Jim, I'm so close. I need you, I want you, I wanna cum, please let me cum,” she rushed her words all in one hot breath. Jim recognized the urgency in her voice and was oh so ready to give her that release. He pushed one finger inside her dripping wet pussy and then one more, seeking that slightly swollen and rough spot inside her front wall. A loud squeal and the arch of her body from the mattress told him that he was in exactly the right place. As he rubbed his fingers over her inside spot, he took her swollen bud in his mouth and barely flicked his tongue. Pam's entire body went rigid and she tossed her head to the side and froze in place as the tension finally broke in waves. She screamed and cried out his name into all corners of the bedroom, then laid and gasped for breath, her body still quivering. Jim slid back up the side of her body, leaving his fingers in place because he loved to feel the waves of her insides slowly subside.

“Kiss me,” she said. He pressed his lips to hers and she could taste herself but she didn't care even a little bit. “That . . . was . . . mindblowing. Good God.” He laughed against her cheek. After a minute, she pushed his shoulder steadily until he was flat on his back. She climbed on top of him and flicked his nipples with the pads of her thumbs. He was rock hard and needed a release of his own and she knew it. Pam reached down and held his cock then angled it toward her still swollen, still slick pussy and let the tip graze her juices. He closed his eyes and pressed his head backward into the pillow.

“Pam,” he pleaded, placing his hands on her hips, trying to guide her down onto him. She resisted and continued to tease the head of his cock against her slick skin. “Baby, please, I'm not gonna last. Let me be inside you.”

She arched her eyebrow at him and sank fully and completely onto his length in one smooth movement. She could feel that wonderful twinge deep in her belly, the way only he could reach. Jim held her hips still and gave himself several seconds to gain some control. She was so hot and slick and tight just for him. Impatiently, she squeezed him once and his eyes widened. “Not . . . fair,” he grunted, thrusting his hips upward and she cried out. Quickly they found their rhythm and moved together in a heated frenzy. He could feel her wetness spread out over their skin as she got tighter and quiet, concentrating and working toward another orgasm. The sight of her eyes screwed tightly shut in intensity nearly sent him over the edge. He thrust even harder, loving the way it made her gasp out loud as she tossed her head back, holding her breasts and stroking her nipples. “Oh, fuck, Jim, I'm coming . . . I'm coming again!” and as soon as he felt her inner walls tighten, he let loose with abandon and pushed into her heat over and over again, pulsing into her. Jim nearly blacked out, he had never come so hard in his life and he could not move. Pam draped over his chest, still connected to him as she tried to slow her breathing.

“Oh my God, Beesly. I think you broke me,” he managed to say.

She was only capable of a small laugh and said, “I think we are both broken.” They shifted to face each other while laying on their sides. As if they shared the same mind, Pam reached out to place her hand on his cheek, just as he reached out to do the same.

“I love you,” they whispered together.