HW: The Portrait M/F (Spark)
ssp...@webtv.net
vicinity of Cape Cod. It was clear that you had wanted to purchase something
contemporary with clean, geometric lines and Jetson-inspired conveniences. Yet,
you knew I longed for a house with history where I could gaze wistfully toward
the sea from my bedroom window. Looking at the churning waves, I would dream of
people that lived there in the distant past and speculate on the events of their
lives.
Furnishing the house was lots of fun! We scoured antique shops and
garage sales for perfect pieces that seemed to fit just right into the decor of
each room.
One Saturday, we ventured into the attic. While you sneezed from
the dust, I found a treasure trove! Opening the lid of a cedar-lined chest, I
found the keepsakes of a past lady of the house. A leather-bound diary protected
by a sheer scarf rested on top. I carefully unfolded a velvet shawl, exclaiming
with delight that it had retained it's lovely sea-blue color and luxurious
texture. With wonder, I unwrapped a scrimshaw mirror and hairbrush set. I also
found a set of delicate, beautifully-crafted combs. Holding them to the light, I
guess they were also made from whalebone. Closing my eyes, I pictured the Lady
with her back to me. She wore the shawl around her shoulders to combat the
drafts, and was brushing her long raven hair with lazy strokes. Lifting the
mirror, the Lady would gather up strands from each side of her temples and
secure them with the lovely combs. I smiled at the actions of my fantasy friend.
Hearing you call my name, I reluctantly returned to reality and walked over to
see what you had discovered. I was thrilled with the pictures you had found
covered with heavy cloth. Looking critically, I noticed the paintings must have
been cleaned and restored sometime fairly recently.
I couldn't take my eyes
off one picture in particular. It was a portrait of a handsome sea captain,
posed in front of a table strewn with maps and a sextant. There was something
about him that I found arresting. His eyes were intelligent and challenging. His
lips formed a teasing smile. His hands looked large, strong and capable. He
seemed alive--vital, demanding and carnal! A self-assured man with a confident
air of command. I shook my head at my fanciful thoughts, reminding myself that
I was looking at the likeness of someone who had been dead over a hundred
years.
You were not pleased when I insisted on hanging the sea captain's
portrait in our bedroom, but you eventually shrugged and let me have my way.
There was something so right about having the Captain keep vigil on the wall
opposite our bed.
Later that night while we made love, I sensed the Captain
was avidly watching us. After you had stripped me and I knelt nude before you
bathed in moonlight, I thought I heard a man's pensive sigh. When I took your
cock into my mouth, I could have sworn I heard him make an approving sound. As
you entered me from behind, I looked up to see the Captain standing beside our
bed. His eyes were bright and hot as he intently watched you thrust in and out
of me. Without breaking our stare, he reached down and squeezed the large bulge
straining his pants. He nodded affirmatively as I orgasmed, bucking back against
you. Upon feeling my pussy contract, you emptied inside of me. The Captain
slowly smiled. I dropped my head, savoring each exquisite, erotic sensation.
When I raised my eyes, the vision of the Captain was gone.
You gathered me
close to sleep in your arms. Drowsily, I considered telling you what I had seen.
Knowing you would chide me for my vivid imagination, I kept quiet. I dreamt of
the sensual image of the Captain.
The next morning, you left early to run some
errands. I worked around the house, trying to make the rooms look settled, homey
and inviting. Late afternoon, I took a break. I poured a glass of chablis and
brought it upstairs. Passing my dresser, I glanced at the brush and mirror I had
found yesterday in the trunk. Picking up the hairbrush, I absently tidied my
hair. As an afterthought, I put in the combs, Using the hand mirror, I admired
the effect. When I had finished primping, I sat on the window seat to watch in
rapt fascination as ominous storm clouds gathered on the horizon.
Eventually,
I opened the leather diary and learned about the owner's life. Sipping my wine,
I smiled at her descriptions of everyday life in the Captain's household. The
Lady described her surprised delight the day the Captain returned from a long
journey and brought her the brush, mirror and combs as a gift. I noticed the
wind had picked up, swirling leaves outside the window. I reached for the Lady's
shawl, placing it around my shoulders and continued to read. I gasped when I saw
a passage describing the Captain's anger. The Lady had gone riding alone,
without a groom. After being made aware of this, the Captain became enraged that
the Lady had put herself at risk. He had dragged the Lady to her room, lifted
her voluminous skirts, lowered her pantalets and vigorously spanked her bare
bottom with the scrimshaw hairbrush!
I jumped at the boom of thunder and bolt
of lightening. The rain came down in sheets and the wind howled.
Looking back
at the faded pages, I puzzled over the next entry. Reading between the lines, I
realized that the Lady was delicately inferring that after the spanking the
Captain had made love to her fiercely. Behind her shy words, I sensed she had
gloried in it. You had never spanked me. I couldn't imagine being
unceremoniously dragged over your knee. I wondered if you had ever thought
about slapping my quivering ass until it changed from white to pink and then to
red. It had never occurred to me that I would ever consider a spanking a
desirable prelude to an erotic encounter. For the first time, I wondered what
it would be like to have you spank and then fuck me. I had never thought our
intimacy was lacking, yet I sensed this was something that could make the bond
between us even stronger. Shivering, I wondered if you would be shocked by
these newly awakened desires. Would spanking me repulse or entice you?
Ruefully, I shrugged. My musings were purely academic since you had never shown
the slightest inclination to spank.
Thumbing further through the book,
there were details of other events, including the mention of several other
spankings with hints of passionate conclusions. The diary ended abruptly because
the Captain had left on a voyage and never returned. The Lady recounted her
fears and finally her resignation that she would never see him again.
Setting
down the diary, I wondered what had become of them both. Had he drowned at sea?
Had she grown old waiting for him, sitting on this window seat looking
anxiously at the waves and praying for his safe return? Tears scalded my eyes
as I thought of her anguish and inevitable despair.
I cried out as you loomed
before me, shaking me awake.
"Little fool, you didn't even hear me come
in!"
"You see, I had been downstairs and decided to come up here for a while to
read . . . "
"And when I got home, the door wasn't even locked!" You
punctuated that remark with another shake.
"Well, I can't imagine any
problems out here . . . "
"This is a large house and it's dangerous to be alone
with the doors unlocked!"
"I'm sorry!"
"Sorry? What will it take to make you
learn?"
Staring up at you, I noted your eyes were hot with anger and something
else. There was a difference in the way you were looking at me. I'd never seen
that tense, implacable expression before. Or had I? I became wet realizing
your eyes now mirrored the Captain's.
You slowly pulled me to my feet, leading
me to the bed. As you passed the dresser, you grabbed the scrimshaw hairbrush.
Yanking my panties down, your hand crashed loudly against my ass. Eagerly
absorbing the searing sensation of pain, I squirmed as each spank was delivered
progressively harder. Pausing, you rubbed my flushed bottom caressingly. I
moaned as your fingers explored my moist opening. At the first strike of the
hairbrush, I shrieked. I couldn't decide whether my discomfort or arousal was
greater. Subconsciously, I felt myself drifting to a new level where I was both
detached and keenly aware. I felt my climax build and I ached for release.
The Lady stood at the window, arm outstretched with fingertips against the cold
pane. The Captain moved behind her, circling his arms around her waist
possessively. The Captain glanced at me over his shoulder. His eyes gleamed
appreciatively at the sight of my glowing cheeks being soundly spanked with his
Lady's hairbrush. The damned rogue had the nerve to wink before lowering his
head to lingeringly kiss the side of his Lady's neck.
Get REAL at alt.spanking.reality.moderated!
The Guv'nor
<ssp...@webtv.net> wrote in message
news:p2Ru7.15287$ev2....@www.newsranger.com...
What can one say!!~!!!!!!!!!!!!!
Mike!
**********************************************
Go on - Look at life from a New Perspective
"http://www.angelfire.com/ma/newperspectives/intro.html"
Lase...@aol.com
>
>I know you were indulging me when you agreed to buy a charming old house in the
>vicinity of Cape Cod.
**********
Beth,
Charming old house on Cape Cod...that alone give rise to all sorts of delicious
and eerie imaginings. :)
This has a Ghost and Mrs. Muir quality--with another couple stepping up and
being enveloped into the original fantasy!
Touching and beautiful. :)
Court
ssp...@webtv.net
says...
I am a huge Ghost and Mrs. Muir fan! Both the movie and TV show. Also a big Portait of Jenny fan!
Spark
Get REAL at alt.spanking.reality.moderated!
spankme1955
location and discovery of the keepsakes of the past made this a very enticing
and spellbinding read. And, as you know, I LOVE a good ghost story, and this one
was great! Thanks for sharing.
Chris M
ICQ# 37950995
AOL IM:kittycatgirl1055
email: Chr...@spoiledbrat.com