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i was made for loving you, baby

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It all started when Paulette found that stupid magazine stashed in the under-sink cabinet in the women’s employee restroom, a Cosmo from a few months back, well worn, with pages dog-earred and paragraphs circled.  She was leaned back in the office reading it, boots propped up on the desk, chair tilted back precariously as she flipped through the pages, only just catching herself from tumbling backwards when Bobby swung open the office door, the poor thing rattling as it slammed behind him. The legs of the chair squeaked on the floor as they slid and came clattering down on all fours, leaving her awkwardly sitting in the middle of the office, magazine hidden as much as possible under her hands, staring up at Bobby with an entirely normal, not at all suspicious sort of deer-in-the-headlights look on her face.

 

Bobby paused, giving the office a once-over before settling on his wife with a concerned look. “The hell you doing in here?”

 

“Readin’.” Paulette said loudly, tucking her fingers under the edge of the magazine, as if she could absorb it or sneak it out of sight without being noticed.

 

“Oh.” Bobby narrowed his eyes, tilting his head to try and read the title on the front, just hidden by Paulette’s left arm.  “New Better Homes ? Lemme take a look, I was thinking about painting the deck this weekend.”

 

“Er–” Paulette floundered, shifting her arm to conceal more of the cover. “No, no paint in this one, it’s um– all about dirt, it’s the dirt special edition, really boring. Wouldn’t interest you.”

 

“All about dirt, huh?” Bobby chuckled, crouching down next to her now, one hand on the back of the chair, the other reaching out to peel her hand away.  “Well now you’ve peaked my interest, let’s see–”

 

Paulette gave in, holding her hands up in surrender, revealing the flashy pink cover, ‘COSMOPOLITAN’ on the top half obscured by some blonde model’s perfect poofy curls, "SPICE UP YOUR SEX LIFE WITH THESE HOT TIPS" jarringly printed over her right cheek, next to a handful over other much less eye-catching titles. 

 

"Huh." Bobby frowned, took a breath like he was going to say something, then paused. "Er. Women's bathroom?"

 

"Women's bathroom." Paulette agreed with a sigh of relief, happy her husband had chosen to avoid the elephant in the room, at least for the time being. "Anyways."

 

She stood up abruptly, rolling the magazine up tightly in her fists. "I'll just, uh, dispose of this nonsense appropriately."

 

"Why don't you, uh," Bobby cleared his throat, gesturing to the desk as he took a seat in the chair Paulette had just been in. "Leave it, I'll throw it into recycling. Got enough plastic in it, I reckon."

 

"Yeah, yeah." Paulette placed it on the desk, cringed when it unfurled, quickly flipped it over face down before patting the back cover gingerly. "Um, see you later, honey."

 

She darted out of the office, stumbling down the stairs of the little porch as she ran out into the park looking for someone to help, or someone's shoulder to stare over as she observed what they were already doing just fine. 

 

Bobby flipped the magazine back right side up, straightening his chair and squaring up to the desk. What was Paulette doing with this thing? If she was really just having a laugh, wasting time before he got back from his after lunch rounds, what was she hiding it for? It was a good five minutes of staring contest between him and the vapid model on the cover before he finally reached a hand out to swipe the magazine open to the fabled page 28: SPICE UP YOUR SEX LIFE WITH THESE HOT TIPS. The first page of the article promised a steamier sex life, renewed passion, better orgasms, and infinite pleasure. Bobby cleared his throat, licked his index finger, and turned the page. 

 




They were cozied up in bed a few nights later when the topic came up again.  Weekend nights were always busy at the park, and after coming home, taking turns in a hot shower, and curling up in bed with the TV on and Paulette’s hair still twirled up in a towel on her head, neither one of them felt particularly sexy.  But on Monday nights, after a long weekend of pent-up frustration, they were usually more inclined to get into the mood.

 

“So, honey.” Bobby broached the subject first, grunting and sitting up straighter in bed as he muted the television.  “That, uh, magazine?”

 

“Oh, that?” Paulette laughed, too loud and abrupt, waving her hand dismissively. “That old thing? So stupid, right? Kids these days, I swear.”

 

“No, no.” Bobby shook his head, turning to look at her, grabbing her hand where it was still waving nervously, holding it between his warm palms.  “I don’t think it’s stupid at all.  In fact, I was going to say– I had it in front of me the other night, and I thought, ‘What the hell,’ right? I might as well give it a once over. And there was this article, oh, what was it…”

 

He trailed off, scratching his chin in thought. “Sex hacks? Hot, new sex tricks? Something about getting spicy?”

 

“I got it, I saw it, yes.” Paulette hurried him along, cheeks turning pink as he threw out different possible titles.

 

“With these cool tricks you too can fuck better?” Bobby continued, straight face even as Paulette was covering her mouth, half giggling, half cringing with horror.

 

“I get it, baby, I know the one–”

 

“No, now it’s bugging me, what was it– get it on in style, fresh positions hot off the press?” 

 

“Oh, stop!” Paulette cried out in laughter, clinging to her husband’s arm, hiding her face against his shoulder. “I think it was–”

 

She cleared her throat, sitting back and taking a deep breath. “Ahem.  ‘SPICE UP YOUR SEX LIFE WITH THESE HOT TIPS’.”

 

Bobby nodded solemnly.  “That’s the bitch.  Anyways– took a look, and you know? Not bad stuff, definitely a little out there, but not bad.”

 

“Bobby, I wasn’t trying to imply anything, I was just–”

 

“Honey.” Bobby said, and she paused, pursing her lips. “I thought we could try something off of the list.”

 

She sat in silence for just a second. “Really? You– you want to?”

 

He shrugged. “I was thinking, uh. Start out simple?”

 

“Yeah, of course.” Paulette took her hair down out of the towel, letting it drop to the ground by the bed.  Her hair was damp and messy, bangs combed back with the rest of her hair, but having it down felt more appropriate for the conversation.  She briefly wondered if she should have worn sexier pajamas than her half of the matching button up set they had gotten themselves last Christmas. “So– what were you…”

 

“Spanking?” Bobby offered bluntly, making his wife blush even more. “Er– if you–”

 

“Sure, yeah.” Paulette choked out, managing an enthusiastic nod. “Wait, so like, me, or–”

 

“Um, me, I thought.” Bobby suggested.

 

“Okay.”

 

“Wait–” They both said at the same time. 

 

“So I’m– you’re doing me?” Paulette laughed, taking a nervous breath. “Or like–”

 

“I thought, uh. You could be the– um, spanker, and me, the spankee.” 

 

Bobby’s serious expression made Paulette break out into more peals of laughter, desperately trying to catch her breath, leaning over as she clung to his arm. “God– don’t say it like that, but yeah, that’s good, that’s good.”

 

“Then, should I–” Bobby elected not to cause more awkward misunderstandings with too much conversation, instead swinging his legs over the edge of the bed and standing up with a grunt, making his way to the foot of the bed and bending over it like a naughty eight year old, but with a grown man’s mustache and a grown man’s focused expression on his face and a grown man’s wife tentatively standing behind him, one flattened palm raised. 

 

“Honey,” Paulette stalled, fluttering her fingers nervously up in the air. “Are you sure?”

 

“Yeah, just.” Bobby paused, wiggling his ass slightly as he got himself comfortable, crossing his arms and resting his head on top of them, just able to see Paulette in the corner of his vision. “What’s my story?”

 

“Your story?” Paulette echoed, tilting her head. “I’m spanking you.”

 

“Yeah, like– why?”

 

“Oh.” Paulette dropped her hand to scratch her head. “I’m not sure.  You’ve been bad, I guess?”

 

“But bad how?” Bobby insisted. 

 

“I don’t know, does it matter?” Paulette asked gently, letting her hand rest on her waist now. “We don’t have to do this, if you’re–”

 

“No, no.” Bobby sighed. “I want to, it’s just– I gotta get in character, you know? Get my head in the game for this role play stuff. What did I do that was bad, why am I being spanked for it? Really gotta… get in the guys head.”

 

Paulette mouthed a puzzled ‘What?’ and contorted her face, but indulged him anyways. “Um, okay then.  Well, you said it was okay to cook a whole batch of expired corndogs today.  You could have put a lot of kids in danger. Of, um, upset tummies. That’s pretty bad.”

 

Bobby hummed, turning the idea over in his mind. “Okay.  Okay, I can work with that.  I don’t care about kids. I’m a stone cold bastard and I don’t care about the children, and I deserve a spanking for that.  Hit me, baby.”

 

“Um,” Paulette hesitated, rubbing her hands together. “Just like–”

 

“Just have at it, sweetheart.” Bobby encouraged, bracing himself on the bed. “Give me your wo– AAH!”

 

Paulette wound her arm up and swung, colliding with Bobby’s ass with a discernible smack, even through the layers of his pajama bottoms and undershorts. 

 

“Shit!” She cried, shaking her smarting hand. 

 

“Fuck!” Bobby cursed, hands flying back to cover his ass as he jolted upright, nearly toppling all the way over and landing onto the floor.  “What was that?!”

 

“You said–” Paulette gasped, clutching her hand to her chest in a fist, reaching her other hand out to tentatively touch his shoulder. “Baby, I’m sorry, are you okay? Was that too much?”

 

“Yeah, it was, uh–” Bobby sniffed, adjusting his jaw, trying to put on a strong face. “Maybe a little much. You wanna just call it a night?”

 

“Please,” Paulette breathed a sigh of relief, happily turning the light off and crawling into bed next to her husband, who was gingerly laying on his stomach.  

 

“Not your fault, by the way,” He mumbled, turning to crack a smile up at her, even in the dark. “We’ll figure it out. Just– don’t fuckin punch my tailbone in the future.”

 

“I didn’t–” She protested, covering her face with her hands. “I thought there would be more padding there, I didn’t–”

 

Bobby started laughing, so she started laughing, and she couldn’t remember, in the morning, when they had stopped laughing and curled up next to each other to fall asleep.