Chapter 11: Marion is Provocative

Whether it was looking at the websites or the description of the hot session with Kiri and David that did it, I don't know, but Marion's behaviour definitely changed. She had always had her little quirks which I found annoying but put up with for the sake of peace - only little things in themselves but added together over the years they grow to be exceedingly irritating. She would never hang up a towel after a shower, for example, but leave it in a damp heap in the middle of the bathroom floor. This habit had, unfortunately, been adopted by Gemma and Connie and it wasn't unusual for me to come home from work and find piles of damp towels littering the bathroom floor. Nor would she take cups and glasses back to the kitchen after use but leave them until the coffee table was overflowing.

Now I would be the first to admit that I'm not perfect but, if there was some habit of mine that I could see offended her, I would make at least some attempt to moderate it. When we were first married I tried to raise these annoyances with her. Her reaction was to laugh at me incredulously, accuse me of making a great deal of fuss about nothing and then point out a list of major offences on my part. After a while I gave up and just lived with it.

On Friday and Saturday she seemed to run the entire gamut of all the little idiosyncrasies that I found most annoying. The euphoria from the session at the Club quickly wore off and by Saturday afternoon I was in a foul mood. I assumed she was reacting badly to hearing out my escapades. In truth I was still somewhat unconvinced that she really was okay with the Club and her behaviour seemed to bear that out. I determined to wait her out then sit down and talk once she had calmed down. I did notice that she was giving me strange looks, almost as if she was challenging me to make a fuss. A fight was the last thing I wanted so I bit my tongue and stuck to my resolution.

My resolve broke on Sunday. By then I was thoroughly pissed off as Marion's mood showed no signs of dissipating. For some peace and quiet I decided to watch the football. The match had barely started when she came in and started hovering the carpet.

"Marion, do you have to do that now?" I asked, desperately trying to keep my voice calm.

"It has to be done sometime," she said brightly.

"Yes, but does it have to be now?"

"What's wrong with now?"

"I'm trying to watch the football, that's what's wrong with now."

"I'm sorry, dear, but it has to be done. It's a mess."

"Then do it later."

"But I'm doing it now."

"Then stop doing it now and do it some other time."

"I won't be long."

"I don't care how long you're not going to be. Stop it now." She affected not to hear me. "Marion, if you don't stop that right now, then, so help me, I'll..."

"Yes, dear?" She smiled brightly.

That was it. With a roar of frustration, I surged to my feet and yanked the plug out of its socket. The sudden silence was deafening. Marion's smile contained more than a hint of challenge. I grabbed her around the waist, whirled her round and dumped her unceremoniously on the settee, manhandling her until she was kneeling with her face pressed against the cushions and her bottom high in the air. I flipped her skirt up over her waist and yanked down her panties. Without giving her time to draw breath, I placed my hand between her shoulders to hold her down and started to spank her hard.

"Is this what you wanted, Marion?" I panted. "Is this why you tried to provoke me? So I would spank you? If it was, you've succeeded. I'm provoked and I'm spanking you."

"Oh! Gerry! No! Oh!" she gasped.

The sound of my hand on her soft flesh sounded loud in the quiet of the room.

"Gerry, the neighbours," she cried.

I was beyond caring. "You should have thought of that before," I growled.

"Oh! Gerry! Gerry!" She was crying and struggling.

Her legs kicked. She wriggled and squirmed though I wasn't sure if she was trying to escape or not. I'm not sure she was even sure. With one hand planted firmly on her back, I spanked away furiously. Her bottom turned pink, then red. My aim wasn't all that good and a many blows landed on the sides of her hips and the tops of her thighs as on her bottom. The whole area glowed. She sobbed and moaned throughout.

My anger dissipated as I spanked her to be replaced with lust. I am not a violent man and prefer to do things by agreement rather than command but something about the situation of having her helpless and squirming got to me. She was mine to do with as I liked - a toy. The lust became a raging erection. One of my errant blows struck the top of her thigh. I felt dampness on my fingers. She was as turned on as I!

Still holding her firmly down, I unfastened my trousers and pushed them down, almost overbalancing as I tried to shake one leg free. I put one knee up on the settee and pushed my cock into her cunt in one swift, hard thrust. She gulped in a deep breath as she felt me enter then let it out in a long, low moan as I slid into her. I fucked her hard, caring not at all if she was comfortable or enjoying it. I needed to cum in her, to assert myself over her. I banged away, my thighs slapping against her bottom. It must have been sore. I didn't care.

She came longer and harder and more noisily than I had ever seen before. Even if I hadn't been about to cum myself, her reaction would have triggered mine. I jammed my cock deep into her thrashing body and spurted and spurted.

With a deep sigh, she slipped down until she was lying on her tummy with me on top, still half embedded in her. The heat from her bottom warmed my groin and I could feel my cum trickle round my deflating cock and onto the settee. I felt warm and satiated and comfortable.

She shifted beneath me. "You'll need to get off, Gerry," she said.

I was disappointed but appreciated she couldn't be comfortable with my weight on top of her so I clambered off and helped her up. A flicker of frustration flashed across her face then she smiled and stepped in close to me.

"That was a bit more than I bargained for," she murmured, standing on tiptoe to kiss my lips lightly, "but thank you anyway. Perhaps, next time, you shouldn't wait so long."

"Yes, dear," I said automatically.

She sashayed towards the hall, her earlier concern about the neighbours apparently forgotten. "I'm going for a shower."

I admired the roll of her hips with detachment as I struggled to come down from my high and make sense of my wife's behaviour. What was going on? I had used force on her, spanked her unmercifully and fucked her like a whore - and her only reaction was to kiss me lightly and go for a shower! Come to that, what was going on with me?

My trousers were still flapping around my ankles. I pulled them off. If the neighbours were being nosy, they'd seen it all anyway. I straightened the room my mind still whirling trying to sort out the implications of it all. She wanted me to spank her, that much was clear. But the rest of it - did she want me to be the alpha male? After seventeen years of marriage? Did she really want me to act all macho and order her around? If so, why had she married me in the first place? I knew I wasn't her only suitor so why had she chosen me? Or could it be that she was just trying something different; something to break the inevitable routine that a long-term relationship brings? I sighed. This was getting me nowhere.

I stepped into the hall and heard the sounds of the shower upstairs. I grinned as a sudden impulse took me. Here was an opportunity to try something out. I went upstairs. No need to be quiet. You couldn't hear anything from the bathroom when the shower was on. The bathroom door was not locked, which in itself was unusual. Marion was normally very careful about privacy. I stripped off the rest of my clothes and stepped into the steam-filled room. Marion squealed as I pulled the open the shower doors.

"I need a shower too," I grinned.

"I might not let you after the way you treated me," she pouted.

"I don't think you have much choice." I pulled the door shut behind me, pulled her wet, slippery body to mine and bent to kiss her.

"Oh, Gerry," she murmured, melting in my arms.

Despite knowing Marion for nearly twenty years, we had never showered together before. It was an interesting and rewarding experience despite the fact that it was a rather small shower and required the flexibility of a Romanian gymnast to retrieve the soap without damaging some part of the body. Slippery bodies, I discovered, can be very exciting. For a long while, we endeavoured to clean each other thoroughly by the simple expedient of standing very close together and rubbing our bodies together while engaged in a long deep kiss. When the water started to run cold, we leapt from the shower and dried each other paying special attention to those areas that get particularly wet such as breasts, genitals and bottoms. Giggling like schoolchildren we raced to the bedroom where we tumbled onto the bed and made gentle love.

"You know, if I'd known how much fun this was, I'd have done it years ago," I said once I was firmly embedded in her vagina.

She laughed, causing interesting sensations in my cock. "Why, Gerry," she said in mock astonishment, "what was it we were we doing not an hour ago?"

It was my turn to laugh. "I didn't mean this," I said, moving more decisively inside her. "I meant showering together."

"It's not often we have the house to ourselves."

"Then we'd better make the most of it."

I started to really drive into her. She spread her knees wide and dug her fingers into my biceps.

"Oh, yes," she breathed. "Oh, yes."

When we came it wasn't the earth-shattering explosion of our earlier coupling but the quiet and satisfying release that comes from two bodies and two minds fully in tune with each other. We lay peacefully, enjoying the warm afterglow until Marion glanced at the bedside clock.

"Oh, shit," she cried, jumping out of bed. "Gemma will be home soon. I need to get the dinner started." There was the distinct sound of a balloon popping.

I puzzled over Marion's strange behaviour for the next few days without coming to any conclusions. In fact, the more I thought about it the less I understood. Expert advice was what I needed. I toyed with the idea of confiding in Jack but our relationship didn't really encompass intimate confessions about our married life. Indeed, I could hardly ever remember him talking about Donna at all. That led to a brief feeling of guilt. I had been so caught up in my new social life I'd been neglecting him. I made a resolution to take him for a pint sometime soon.

But I still needed some advice and then it struck me - Felix. If he couldn't help he'd surely know someone who could.

Felix greeted me warmly and led me through the office to a comfortable apartment.

"I didn't know you actually lived here," I exclaimed.

"We don't advertise the fact," he grinned. "I trust you'll be discreet?"

"Felix," I said reproachfully.

"Knew you would be. By the way, Margo's been asking after you. You seem to have made an impression."

"Oh? To tell the truth, Gemma and I found her a bit, shall we say, difficult."

He nodded. "How is Gemma, by the way?"

"Felix, I owe you more than I can say," I said sincerely. "Since you persuaded me to join the Slipper Club and helped me through those first weeks, our lives have been transformed. And that's what I wanted to talk to you about."

He beamed. Before he could reply, Bea came in. I remembered my manners and stood to greet her. She kissed me on the cheek like we were old friends and offered us coffee.

"Would you like Bea to be present for this?" Felix asked.

"Yes. I think I would. Her insight might prove valuable."

We chatted about this and that until she returned then, with cups of freshly made coffee in our hands he gestured for me to start. I told the story of how Marion found out about the true nature of the club and her reaction to it. When I got to the events of the previous Sunday both he and Bea listened attentively. They made me describe it in great detail, not hesitating to demand more detail or for me to repeat something. I noticed they glanced at each other more than once.