#251) Their Daily Routine

#251) Their Daily Routine

No matter what day it was, he always got up earlier than his wife, made her a cup of coffee, brought it to her in bed. It didn’t matter if it was the weekend, Christmas morning, his birthday. He found meaning in her groggy smile, so never failed in this task. After the first necessary sip, she scampered off to her bathroom for her morning absolutions and toilette. She knew that she only had half an hour to use the bathroom, shower, and dry her hair (if it was a shampoo day). She nursed from her coffee cup during this as if was a bottle of formula. But she knew that she had to be back in their bedroom within that half an hour, when he would return from his bathroom. (She attributed having his and hers bathrooms as a pillar in supporting their happy marriage.)
Something else that kept it happy was what happened next every day. He sat on the edge of their marriage bed, she laid her nude form across his, and he spanked her, every day. Some days this amounted to love-pats, hundreds of them, until they accumulated to a warm embrace of her psyche. Some days he would spank her quite hard, pure punishment. Most days, it was some middle shade along this spectrum. Even she, the recipient, saw the benefits of a regular, maintenance spanking. As sufferer of PMS, she felt she needed a spanking most “at that time of the month.” It was up to him, it was to clean their slate, to ensure a fresh start, daily.
Some days they would make love after this inspiring prelude, some days just make out. On occasion, they would full-on-fuck, so feverish a frolic that they’d need another shower. (Usually they held that off until the nighttime.) In this they both had input, however, she was aware that he was considerably older than she. She never tired of this daily routine.
It wasn’t like they were on a tight schedule. He was semi-retired as a successful consultant. She spent her days shopping, lunching with the ladies, in class for Pilates, yoga, horseback riding, or foil fencing. She did charity work, some political campaigning. Some days were reserved for pampering, a massage or spa treatment, perhaps masturbation if the morning hadn’t completely satisfied her needs. But it was all leisurely, and on her schedule, flexible.
They’d rendezvous again daily at five for drinks and a light dinner, followed by a movie, the theater, opera, a charity event, or just reading side by side. This segued nicely to the frequent sexual escapade, sometimes fueled by another drink, often by another spanking session.
It was nice life, orderly, structured by routine.

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