SSC '04 [PICTURE - Crouched] "The Things They Do for
Love", by Rhosymedre. 508 words.

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Adult, explicit material; NC-17. If you are not a legal adult in
your jurisdiction, read no further.
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The Things They Do for Love

He sits back motionless, watching her. Shirt sleeves
rolled to the elbows, he drapes his arms along the top of
the overstuffed sofa wedged against the wall. One long
trousered leg rests flexed on the balls of his feet
against the seat apron. The other extends forward on the
heel, inches from her yielding, parted bottom and poised
to probe.

He loves coming home to this. After fighting legal
battles thirteen hours straight, he can make a 30-second
phone call and confidently stride into the darkened
master bedroom a quarter of an hour later to this
groin-inflating sight of his Lia, naked and prostrate;
kneeling in a tight curl with forehead to floor. He
fleetingly imagines himself a feudal Japanese lord
reverenced at court by a formal bow. Fleetingly,
because he could never as proudly cherish a subject's
obeisance as he does his submitted wife's.

The room's own blackness cloaks much of her. But, the
hall table lamp slants warm, golden light from the rear
right, illuminating her spread bottom cheeks resting on
her outward-turned heels, though not touching another
patch of inky blackness between.

She is gloriously sexy and open to him, yet shrouds her
womanly, paritectic secrets. He caresses her unmoving but
hyper-aware figure with his eyes for minutes more before
casually nudging his wingtip into that shadow and
pressing up against her core. The leather withdraws
shinier and copiously moisturized, and he smiles,
smelling the arousal wafting from her.

Reining in his own rising passion, Jack breaks their
silence. "My girl, you are the epitome of graceful
femininity. So beautifully surrendered. I'll take a
picture for our collection." The digital Canon glints
readily within easy reach. He grabs it, frames her in the
viewer, and depresses the button. "You can see it later,"
he tells the unchangingly quiescent woman on the floor.

Setting the camera aside, he decides what comes next and
decrees: "That enticing tail of yours won't hit the
sheets unmolested tonight."

Content he's churning butterflies in his woman, he
elaborates: "I'm going to spank you. *Very* soundly,
Lialetta.

"This light bastes a pleasing honeyed glaze on your
caboose, but I favor a less ephemeral bright coral glow.
Fast, firecracker smacks of my hand will guarantee
bee-hive sting too. Pinned closely over my knee, you're
in for sweet agony, girl."

He isn't finished: "Afterward, it's my bed for you. I'll
turn you on your back, hoist your sizzling seat off the
mattress, and plough your gushing heat until you splinter
apart uncontrollably. Then, driving deeper, I'll butt
through your womb's mouth, where I'll swell impossibly
and detonate, hurling you over the edge again with me."

He pauses to let her fate sink in. Softly he orders,
"Plead for it, Lia. Ask me to give you this."

He waits.

"Jack, I..."

He waits longer.

"I'm yours. Spank me. Bring me tears." Her alto quavers
excitedly. "Then make merciless, wanton love to me. 
Please."

"Up, love. Over my lap."

Her lush body finally unbends from its crouch. Rising to
meet what he has promised her.
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"The Things They Do for Love" by Rhosymedre.