”“I think you might be going in with another sore bottom this Monday as well. How could you be so thoughtless. Now, serve dinner. We’ll speak of...this later.”And she stumbled to her feet and went off, shamefacedly, to the kitchen. The meal, when it came, was much better than that which had started this whole sorry episode, but I knew I had to be firm with her. That night she slept on the floor at the foot of the bed and most of the next day she was kept busy about the house while I sat in the. She used both hands, pulling, pushing and kneading the leg, working her way up my body.When she was ready to work on my upper thigh, she applied more oil to one hand, lifted the sheet and slapped her hand on my upper thigh. It didn’t hurt, but it splashed some of the oil on the crotch of my boxers. She apologized profusely and then insisted she do something else.“Slip off your underwear and I’ll put them in the oven where we warm our towels. They’ll be dry by the time we’re finished.” I already. More

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