Exactly how long had she been craving a good spanking? Logan knew how she liked to be spanked and wasted no time in bringing his hand down on her ass again, and again, and again. Lanie’s moans and cries were loud from the start and something about the volume spurred him on. Over and over his hand came down on her ass, the blotchy red hand-print quickly developed into a redder and more defined shape with each blow of his hand against the tender flesh. Lanie was moving her hips in circular motions and, when he stopped after every few blows to rub his hand gently over the reddening hand-print, he had to resist the urge to drop his pants, step in behind her and feel the undulations of her hips with his cock buried deep inside her pussy. “Harder,” Lanie begged breathlessly and Logan immediately did as she asked. Her cries and moans became louder, the motion of her hips tightened and sped up, and he could see wetness beginning to coat her inner thighs. The scent of her sex was faint but. She decided that she was just bored. She pulled down the visor and ensured her makeup was straight and her hair wasn’t out of whack. It was the least she could do. She walked into the hotel lobby—the nicest in their town—and waived off the guy behind the counter. She looked into the bar and saw him. It was still early—about six-thirty—so there was still light coming in through the windows of the bar. It was pretty much empty. Luke smiled meekly at her when he turned his chair and saw her come in through the front doors. It was a smile that asked, ‘What do you think?’ Sitting on the bar next to him was a bouquet of a dozen red roses. Despite their recent distance, her heart swelled, supported by the memory of the man that she had fallen in love with. Her eyes began to well, though she quickly gained her composure. She walked to him, slowly at first. Then, she moved to a trot ultimately landing her in his outstretched arms. They kissed and she felt the warmth of her husband’s arms.
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