If You Go Down To The Woods...

The Boxing Day walk had been an excuse to extract Emily from the ancestral pile, before her graceless behaviour and cutting remarks placed any further demands on the seasonal goodwill of kith and kin. Now, as she trudged ahead, up through the bare wood of tortured hornbeam coppice and straight thick sessile oak, her rubber wellingtons pulling against the deep cloying mud, I found myself contemplating those fleshy mounds encased beneath the taught blue denim, and wondering if perhaps there might be no more propitious occasion to take my wilful new wife in hand.

Out of the corner of my eye I caught sight of a slight, alert form watching us intently through the trees. "Emily," I said keeping my voice low, "look a muntjac."

"I couldn't give a flying fuck if it was an Irish Elk" she snapped, causing the deer to skitter off into the wood. "My toes are frozen, I'm splattered with mud, and you know what.?" she snarled, turning to face me, "I don't believe you know where we're going. We're lost aren't we?"

"No", I answered through teeth a dentist could have taken an impression of, "the road is just over the rise."

"Whatever, let's just get back to the Addams family."

"Emily that's enough! Come here".

She stood rooted, the defiant cast of her mouth betrayed by an uncertainty in those green flecked hazel eyes beneath the thick spectacles. In her bobble hat with the auburn curls peeking out she looked adorable, and for a moment I thought I might relent.

"You can fuck off," she snarled, turning away from me with such a ludicrously exaggerated throwing back of the shoulders and toss of the head that it could only be described as a flounce.

I swiftly closed the few steps between us and grabbed her hand in mine. She pulled away from me, but without real strength of purpose.

I had seen what I needed, a large windfallen bough. I dragged her across to where it lay, and seating myself, pulled her firmly down over my lap. Grasping her right wrist in my left hand I pulled it up behind her back. She gasped, and I loosened the half nelson a little, but keeping the hold tight enough to give me control should she struggle.

I whispered a silent prayer that what I was about to do would turn out for the best, and raising my right hand, brought it down upon the bedenimed butt.

"Ow," she complained outraged as I brought the hand down again, "You can't do this."

"Oh yes I can young lady," I responded with rather more confidence than I felt, aiming another swat at the wriggling rear.

"It's not fair," she spat, and I tightened my hold a little to still her writhing.

"I'll tell you what is not fair..." and, as I continued to lay down a slow but steady barrage of swats, I enumerated her tantrums and bad manners over the season of goodwill and all the many ways in which she had caused me to squirm in embarrassment.

As I fell into a comfortable rhythm, being careful to pay equal attention to each ample globe, she ceased to squirm under the rise and fall of my palm, and began to whimper softly. I swallowed hard, but did no desist immediately, forcing myself to finish what I had started. My cock had begun hardening as soon as I landed the first blow and was now rigid in my pants. As my sobbing wife lay draped across my thighs she could not but be aware of the throbbing phallus as it pressed against her.

We both, I felt, had had enough, and letting go my grip I gently raised her limp body. Cradling her with my right arm, I hooked her under the knees with my left, and sat her up upon my lap.

The freckled cheeks were streaked with tears, and a little snot dribbled from her nose. I traced the line of of a tear with my finger and on reaching her chin lifted it so she was looking me in the eyes. "I am sorry I had to hurt you," I said, my engorged cock giving the lie to the words.

"It's not that," she sniffed, and then it all came tumbling out, how she did not mean to behave as she did, and how she knew she was hurting me but could not stop herself. When I could bear to hear no more I silenced her mouth with mine, and drank deep of her kisses as our tongues wrestled with an urgency I had never felt from her before.

Encouraged by the ardour of her response, I took her firmly by the shoulders and gently pushed her away from me. "I am not done with you yet. That was just a taste of what you can expect should you misbehave in future. " She looked at me questioningly, and I felt my cock jump as she gulped at the resolution in my eyes. "Stand up Emily. Now unfasten your belt. Undo the button on your jeans. Now the zip." I pulled the jeans down roughly around her knees, and laid her once more across my lap. Hooking my thumbs in the elastic of her panties I eased them slowly over the ripe spheres; I was pleased to see the pale flesh already glowing warmly. It would be getting much hotter yet.

I traced a finger over each globe. When Emily tried on clothes she would ask did her arse look big; the truthful answer would have been, God, yes. And now those magnificent cushions had been yielded completely to my mercy. I found myself lost in contemplation of their glory as I stroked and fondled them. The fleshy outer lips of her labia were exposed and moisture glistened within. The temptation to dip my fingers into that pot of honey was almost beyond bearing, but my wife's pleasure would have to wait. Her lesson was not yet complete.

"I am going to give you two dozen strokes. I want you to count off the blows, and after each of them to say 'thank you'. Is that understood?"

"Yes sir."

I raised my hand above my shoulder. Could I really bring myself to do this? If ever a bum was made to be spanked it was before me now. I brought my palm crashing down on her right cheek with a smack that echoed through the forest. I swear the birds stopped singing.

"Aaagh!" Emily's gasp stifled the scream as the breath left her body.

"Count off the strokes, please".

"One".

I gave her bottom a short tap. "Manners."

"Thank you".

"You're welcome". I lifted my hand again, this time aiming for the left nate.

"Twoooo. Thank you."

"Threee. Thank you."

"Ahh. Fo..four. Thank you."

"Fiiiive. Ah God. Thank you"

"Six". Sniff. "Thank you"

"Seven...please...."

"Ahem"

"Thank you. Eight!! Thank you very much."

"Noo...Nine. Thank you, you bastard,"

"Ten." A more gentle one that. "Thank you. Sorry."

"That's okay. A couple more and we'll take a breather. But let's make these two count."

"Eleven, thank you. Twelve thank you."

With those last two blows in swift succession, Emily slumped across my lap, whimpering contentedly.

"Woof". I looked up to see a large black labrador straining towards me, its tongue lolling good-naturedly. At the other end of the leash was a tall woman in her fifties with an aquiline nose and a tight bun of iron grey hair; a tweed skirt and jacket were complimented by woollen stockings and sensible walking shoes. A truly impressive chest was encased in a sweater topped by a pearl necklace.

"Down Trojan."

Conscious of Emily's crimson derriere laying exposed across my knees, I found myself rather lost for words. What Emily was feeling did not bear imagining, particularly as Trojan was now quite unmistakably sniffing her bottom.

"Come away." Before she could pull the dog away he laid a big sloppy lick across Emily's arse. I absent-mindedly wondered if she might find it cooling. "Now behave. I am sorry he does get over-excited."

"That's quite all right." I found myself saying. "I do apologise. We did not hear you coming."

"I am sure you did not; not above the young lady's screams. I take it she has been misbehaving herself to be deserving of such vigorous punishment."

I felt suddenly intensely protective of my wife. I did not want this stranger to judge her too harshly. "Emily is a very good-natured and dutiful wife. But in last couple of days she has let herself down a little." I laid an affectionate hand on Em's bottom, and conscious of the heat emanating from it, added guiltily, "I may have been unduly harsh."

"Perhaps we should hear what the young lady herself has to say about that."

Well, I thought, why not? "Stand up please Emily". With a palpable reluctance Emily raised herself, cupping the wiry copper hairs of her exposed crotch with mittened hands. Her face was almost, though admittedly not quite, as high in colour as her rear.

"So why has your husband found it necessary to lay you across his lap? You must have been very naughty."

Emily looked to me, and I reassuringly fondled her bottom. Hesitantly she began to explain.

"Well I must say I hope you have learnt your lesson", the lady commented when Emily had finished, though from the tone of stern disapproval it was obvious that she rather doubted that she had.

Emily stared down shamefacedly at her muddy wellies. "Oh yes."

"Well actually," I heard myself saying, "we had not quite finished the lesson. There were still another twelve strokes to go." Emily looked at me in open-mouthed horror. And because it seemed rude not to, I added, "You would be very welcome to stay and watch ."

"Thank you. I should enjoy that."

And so Emily found herself draped once more across my lap, thanking me as she counted off the strokes.

I had not been consciously holding back, but on the third stroke I became aware that the lady was giving me a cold stare. As I raised my hand again I looked up at her enquiringly.

"If your good wife is going to allow you the privilege of disciplining her, you could at least repay her by putting some effort into it."

"He's doing just fine." squeaked Emily.

"Sssh dear, it's for your own good. Now if I may?" With that the lady took my poised hand and lifted it to what she considered a more appropriate height. "From there I think. And put some welly into it."

The difference was immediate and striking. Emily absolutely howled.

"There," said the lady, "wasn't that better?"

I wondered how Emily might answer that; but through gritted teeth she replied, "Yes, much better. That was four. Thank you. Please continue."

And so I administered the remaining slaps, my wife bucking, writhing, squealing, sobbing, and to my intense delight, thanking me most profusely.

By the time I had landed the last blow Emily's plentiful posterior was lit up like a port hand ship's lantern and I had a hard on you could have run an ensign up. I slid two fingers into her now sopping slot to moisten them, and then began slowly circling her inner lips. She moaned appreciatively and encouraged I began exploring more deeply.

I looked up at the lady. She had tied off Trojan to a branch so her hands were free to concentrate on rubbing her breasts beneath the cloth of her sweater. I smiled at her and for the first time she fully returned my smile. "That was most invigorating. It quite takes me back to when I was a gel."

As my fingers turned their attention to rubbing Emily's nub, I found my eyes fixated upon the lady's massive bosom. She gave a slightly exasperated sigh. "Boys will be boys, I suppose", she commented with a rueful smile, and removing her jacket and sweater, lay them carefully across a branch. Below was a bra that could only be described as a feat of engineering. Unhooking the straps from her shoulders, she undid the clasp and freed breasts that for all their enormous weight hung full and shapely onto her belly.

I watched entranced as the lady rubbed, pinched and plucked at her nipples, my fingers unconsciously imitating her actions as they tormented my wife's love button. Emily was pleading with me now to bring her to climax. The lady nodded, and as I brought my wife off she came as loud as I had ever known.

The lady primly replaced her jacket; the pearls I noticed had stayed on. "Damn chilly for this sort of thing," she humphed. Walking over to Emily she lifted her chin. "There child, I hope you know how lucky you are to have such a dutiful husband."

Emily smiled up at her, "I do".

"In my day it was considered polite to show your appreciation." Emily looked up at her quizzically. "Up you get. Now you are going to be on your knees, so I should take off your trousers. You don't want them to get all muddy. And I should take off that lovely sweater unless you want cum all over it."

Discarding her mittens, Emily slipped off her boots and freed herself from her jeans and panties, before pulling her sweater over her head. The lady nodded to her to remove her shirt, then undid the clasp of her bra for her, and whisked it away. "Very nice dear, plenty to keep busy hands occupied there. You can put your wellies back on."

While my plump redheaded wife stood shivering in just her wellington boots and bobble hat, the lady raised me to my feet and undid the clasp on my belt, pulling my trousers down around my ankles. Then with a twinkle in her eye, she yanked down my pants; I was a little embarrassed to find my penis had lost rigidity while I had been pleasuring my wife. I glanced across at Emily in case she should be disappointed.

The lady tickled my balls. "We will soon have you up again. Come here dear and kneel down".

Emily dropped to her knees in the squelchy mud in front of me, and hesitantly began to caress my flaccid shaft. The lady placed a hand over hers, "No like this dear."

Under the lady's skilful guidance Emily soon had me rigid again. "Now dear bring the tongue into play." The lady smiled indulgently as Emily lapped at me greedily. Without need of further bidding Emily soon had her lips wrapped around my darkly throbbing helmet, her hot breath steaming in the chill December air.

Her services no longer required the lady was free to concentrate on her own pleasure. Divesting herself of skirt, stockings and voluminous drawers, she leant against the bole of a tree, and draping one long shapely leg over a low branch, began plunging two fingers into her gaping snatch, while with her free hand she lifted a nipple to her mouth, sucking hungrily.

My cock was rigid as a girder in Emily's mouth. I wanted her more powerfully than I had ever done before.

"Emily, stand up please." She struggled to her feet, regarding me anxiously, concerned she might have done something wrong. The lady looked at me questioningly, but I had been taking in my surroundings and had seen a possibility.

Hoicking up my trousers, I lead Emily by the hand over to the place I had seen, where the mud was that much deeper and moister. "Lay down Emily, on your front, please."

As she hesitated, I pulling off her bobble hat, freeing the unruly auburn curls, and plunged my tongue deep into her mouth. I moistened a finger in her snatch, and Emily's eyes widened as I worked it into the tight bud of her arsehole.

Trojan was snuffling at the lady's wirewool fringed crotch as she rubbed determinedly at her swollen clit. "Down boy, " she said, pushing his head away.

As I pulled out of the embrace with my wife, Emily smiled at me, and, stepping out of her wellies and socks, obediently lay face down naked in the mire, gasping at the electric shock of cold as the squelchy mud oozed around her generous contours. Swiftly shedding my clothes, I knelt down beside her. Out of the corner of my eye I could see Trojan's tail wagging.

I plunged my hands into the mud, then planted them firmly on the broad cheeks of Emily's arse, leaving two perfect palm prints. Taking further handfuls I worked the black mud deeply into her still pinkly glowing behind, my hands firmly caressing those lovingly abused spheres. She sighed appreciatively as the icy ooze eased her still stinging globes. I next worked the squidgy stuff into her plump white thighs, moving onto the backs of her knees, the chubby calves and the adorable dainty feet, before turning my attention to the goosepimpled fleshiness of her back and shoulders.

As I turned my wife over she smiled up at me and I was charmed to see a spot of mud clinging to the tip of her nose. I could not resist bending over to mash her full red lips with mine, all the while massaging the dark ooze into that abundance of pale white flesh, lathering the silty loam onto the dome of her belly, and delightedly squidging her breasts between my muddy fingers.

Then as I raised her bottom onto my thighs, she wrapped her legs around me, opening her fat cunt to my pulsing cock. I plunged into her, deeply, satisfyingly, losing myself in my hunger for this woman as I thrust again and again into the volcanic vent of her bubbling desire.

Only once I had spent my hot seed inside my darling Emily and flopped beside her in the mire, did it occur to me to wonder whether the lady had succeeded in satisfying her own needs. Presumably she had, because she and Trojan were no longer to be seen.

My chastised, shivering, mud-caked wife raised herself on one elbow, and smiling hopefully from behind dirt-flecked spectacles began toying shyly with the hairs of my chest. "Do you think you could finish me off please?" I honestly felt that it was the least I could do.

END