SSC '04
[Adult]
500 words

For the Asking
By Rhosymedre

The backyard baked and shimmered. No breeze ruffled the lap
pool or played in the spreading oaks shading the protected
enclosure. Emma lazed on her stomach, shielded from the grass'
creepy crawlies by a plush beach towel. She grunted
appreciatively at John who equally lazily sat cross-legged
and massaged her with sunscreen she didn't really need. He
adored a bikini-clad Emma. The skimpy periwinkle (trimmed by
cream) suit beautifully accentuated his favorite part of her
dorsal anatomy and he itched to drag the clingy material 
down.

So he did.

Emma shot him a knowing look, but then closed her eyes and
sank happily into the tactility of his finger pads drawing
patterns on her bottom.

"You'll never ask for one, will you?"

"For what, John?" She knew what he meant.

"For the spanking you crave," he prompted.

"Must I crave it for you to love me?" Emma retorted. Then she
volleyed into another area of the court: "Why must I ask, for
that matter?" She tossed her summer streaked hair behind her
shoulder and affected an exasperated pout.

John, ever the student of human nature and seldom hesitant to
infiltrate the inner life of his intimates, squidged his
eyes, feigning hurt. Gently cupping up from her gluteal fold,
he pressed. "I want you to ask, Emma. Don't shy away. Don't 
be coy either. Voice your longings. Trust me to give you what
you need. But *I* need you to ask me."

Reaching behind her to overlap his hand now dabbling inside
her natal cleft, Emma locked with his gaze again. "Johnny,
you know I trust you. But I'm scared that if we start down 
this path, I might get too greedy and want something more
extreme than a nicely blushed, smartly warm set of gluts."

"Sweetie, have faith in yourself. Have confidence; your
impulses are healthy."

"Not aberrant? Not perved-out?" She glowered, withdrawing her
hands; folding them under her head. Emma stared at the pool,
her butt clenching subconsciously.

"Those are labels, sweetie. Forget them! Be yourself. That's
who I love." John tickled her mounds, palms molded to her 
cheeks, thumbs arcing like little windshield wipers. He
sought to soothe. And to sway. "I know what you want from me.
Say the words. Tell me to reach one arm under you -- across
your abdomen -- to support. Tell me to rub your ass cheeks
with the other and then slap lightly, almost still a patting.
When ready, give me rein to cup my hand, snap my wrist,
exercise my elbow and shoulder. Let yourself go through
stages as I buff your bottom from mallow rose to lady bug
red. Relax and let me roast your ass -- and mind and emotions
-- consummately."

He'd said all he would.

"John."

"Mmm."

"I can't ask you."

Her bikini covering her unspanked buns again, they 
retreated indoors, slouching dispiritedly side by side.

++++++++++++++++++++++

This morning in bed, Emma whispers in her lover's ear:
"Johnny, please spank me. Exactly as you described last
week."