Speeding Toward A Spanking, Part Five

Hellllloooooooooooooo My Spanky Friends!

Well, here I am on a Thursday, rushing to get ready to go on a TRIP! Yay!!! A nice romantic, hopefully-fuck-our-brains-out getaway. We’re going to a super romantic place by the beach with a fireplace and wetbar and all that crap. So…let’s see what’s on my packing list? Lube, flogger, riding crop (!!!!! My favorite!!!!!), leather paddle, vibrator, pink Lucite dildo, port and beer. Whoooo-hooo! Oh, and CDs and music player. And a huge array of after-sex munchies. Brie, fresh fruit and crackers. Just add husband and we’re set to go!

Hmmm. I probably should bring some warm clothes for the beach. BTW, this isn’t like a Southern California beach where it’s sunny and warm, this is a Northern California beach which is windy, foggy and FREEZING. But beautiful. And the water is arctic. If you get silly and actually put your feet in the water, it’s INSTANT PAIN. Ice cream headache in your feet.

Anyway, it will be fun! And we’ll be spending most of our time indoors, anyway. HEEEEEEEEEEE!! Now watch, after all my expectations, we’ll fall asleep the moment we get there and wake up when we have to come home. Heavy sigh. 23 years together means that when you “sleep together” there’s actually a whole lot of snoring going on.

No. This vacation is about sex. Lots of sex. Wheeee! I won’t let my husband out of that room until he’s half dead. Or I’m half dead.

Enough of this. I’m getting horny and I haven’t even packed yet. Here’s the next installment of Speeding Towards a Spanking, soon to be found in Hanky Spanky.

Hugs to you all and see you next week!!!

Michelle


Lila took the corner too fast and the back end of the racecar slid out. Wall. Center of the track. Wall. Center of the track. Dizzy, she finally came to a stop. Thankfully, all the other cars had gotten out of her way and she hadn’t hit them or anything else. No damage to anything but her nerves.

She straightened out the car and drove back to the pit.

Bobby John came running out to greet her. “Wow, you are so lucky, girl. I thought for sure you were gonna hit the wall.”

“I hope the car’s okay,” she said, climbing out. She had to shout to be heard over the din of the other cars.

The brown-haired man laughed. “It’s fine. It’s a training car, anyway. You can’t hurt it too much.”

“That’s why you let me drive it.”

“You are a crazy one, girl. Totally crazy.”

A man she didn’t recognize walked up to the pair. “Hey there,” he said.

Bobby John turned to him. “Hey Greg, what’s up?”

“Just came out to see who did those last laps and look what I find, a pretty little lady.”

Bobby John gestured towards Lila. “Lila Black, meet Greg Posito, he runs the track and amateur night.”

Lila shook hands with the large, burly man. In his early sixties, Greg looked like a human bulldog. Such a contrast to the boyish good looks of Bobby John.

“Well, well, well, so this is Lila Black. Aren’t you married to that rock star?”

“I am.”

“Well, well, well, perhaps I could convince you and your famous husband to partake of our amateur night here. I think you got a good chance to win.”

“Can’t. Thanks. Zane doesn’t even know I’m here. He doesn’t exactly like me doing dangerous activities. But thanks,” Lila said. She turned away and took off her jacket.

“Whoa, whoa, wait a minute. Maybe if I talk to him, I can—”

She turned on the man and pointed at him. “No. You don’t talk to him.”

The man held up his hands. “Okay, okay, don’t mean to upset you, honey. I just think you’re a fantastic driver.”

“Thanks.”

Bobby John nodded. “Greg’s right, Lila, you really should compete.”

“No thanks. Besides, everyone just cares about Zane, not me. And this is only my fifteenth or so time driving with other cars.”

“That’s why they call it amateur night. You should try it,” Bobby said. “We got some trials goin’ tomorrow afternoon. Love to see you take the Dodge around the track.”

Lila snapped her attention to Bobby. “You’d let me take out the Dodge?”

He flashed her a mouth of straight white teeth. “Yeah, I would. I think you’re ready for it.”

Conflicted, her stomach twisted. “Goddamn it. I can’t, man. I can’t. This is torturing me. Damn, I’d love to take that baby for a run.”

“So come out tomorrow.”

Greg said, “Maybe if you talk to your husband, he’ll come around. We’d love to see you two out here.”

Yeah, you’d love the publicity that comes with Zane, wouldn’t you? “I can tell you this, you’ll never see him out here,” Lila told the big man.

Bulldog Man didn’t bat an eye. “I still think you oughta run it by him. I think he’d be proud of you.”

“I doubt it,” Lila said. “Besides, he’s getting ready for his upcoming tour. He has no time.”

“Why don’t you come back tomorrow, Lila? I got a spot open for you. Just come and try it out,” Bobby said.

She stood and thought. It had been hard enough to get away without Zane finding out. She had no idea how she could get back the next day without lying through her teeth. But the Dodge. She’d been salivating over that car forever.

“When do you need to know?” she asked.

“Uh, now.”

“Shoot. I have no idea how the hell I’d get back here without him…”

“Finding out?” Bobby John finished.

“Yeah.”

“Just come. He won’t know.”

She couldn’t stand it. “Okay, I’ll be here. What time?”

“Noon.”

She sighed and ran a hand through her short spiky red hair. “I’ll be here.”

“Bring your husband,” Greg said, trying again.

“No. See ya, Bobby John, nice meeting you, Greg.”

“Nice to meet you too, Mrs. Black,” Greg said.

She hated being called Mrs. Black. It was as if she lost her own identity to most of the world when she married her husband. She was now Mrs. Zane Black to almost everyone. People were much nicer to her, photo shoot jobs were being thrown at her, everyone wanted to give her something. Of course, in return for a favor from her husband. It sucked. It was the part of Zane she liked the least, all this fame crap. He could have it.

But racing the Dodge. That would be a blast. Somehow, someway, she’d do it. But how would she get away from Zane? The next day was Friday, his normal day off. She was hoping that with the tour, he’d be too busy to take time off.

Oh, God, if he even so much as caught wind of what she was doing, he’d spank her into the middle of the next century. The man was such a hardass. He ruled her life with an iron fist. Granted, he’d kept her from endangering herself with her stunts, but still, the guy was an immovable force. And he hit so hard. But she had to race that Dodge!


As if by God’s grace, Zane was indeed busy the next day. She tried not to look happy when he told her, she tried to look like the consummate compassionate wife. They were in the living room, having pretzels and drinks before dinner.

He pulled his long black hair back out of his handsome face. “You’re so good to me, baby. Most women would read me the riot act. But I have to have this meeting with the record company. All kinds of crap screwed up with our concessions. We make most of our money off those damned t-shirts and memorabilia.”

“No problem, honey. I understand. While I’m obviously disappointed, it’s fine. I have a job I can do, anyway. Bobby John is doing some racing tomorrow and asked if I could come down the racetrack and take some shots.”

“You’re goin’ down there a lot lately.”

“He’s a great client.”

“Yeah, that’s good. So you like goin’ down there?”

She checked his gaze to see if he was fishing. He wasn’t. His large green eyes were curious, loving. Thank the Lord.

“Oh, yeah. Stinky and loud, but fun.” She took a sip of her beer.

“They ever let you ride in those cars?”

She spit out her beer. Immediately, she realized her stupidity and covered by coughing. Zane rubbed her back while she grabbed a napkin and wiped up the beer from her lap and face.

“Too strong for ya?” he teased with a grin.

“I don’t recommend breathing beer.”

“I’ll take your word for it.”

She hoped he let the subject drop. She decided to change the topic before he asked any more questions. “So, dinner should almost be ready.”

“What are we havin’?”

“Chicken broccoli cheese stuff.”

He laughed. “Is that the name of the recipe?”

“Chicken Broccoli Bake. Which should almost be done. If you will excuse me.”

She looked over at him and he gazed at her thoughtfully. She hoped to God he dropped the subject of the racetrack.

Luckily, they spent the rest of the night making love, watching TV and snacking. The subject of the racetrack fell by the wayside.

The next morning, he woke her up early. “Baby? I gotta go to work. I didn’t want to leave without kissin’ you good-bye.”

He leaned down and kissed her. She grabbed him by the shoulders and pulled him closer. “You sure you don’t have time for morning fun?”

A lustful gleam appeared in his green gaze. “Oh, you bad girl. I would love nothin’ more, but I just got a call. The record execs are havin’ an early mornin’ meeting and I gotta be there.”

“Okay.”

“I’ll take a raincheck,” he said, kissing her again. When he pulled away, he asked, “When you getting’ back from the racetrack?”

“Late afternoon, I think. I’ll call before I leave.”

“Good. And take the Lexus, not your piece of crap Toyota.”

“All right.”

“And when I get back from tour, we’re gettin’ you a new car. Somethin’ safe.”

She smirked. “Like a tank?”

“Don’t get smart,” he said with a grin.

“You are over-protective.”

“No, I’m just protective. And I’m only this way because of you. May I remind you of a couple weeks ago? Miss Ninety-Five Miles An Hour?”

“I just healed up from that,” she said pursing her lips at him.

He grabbed her playfully, pulled her over his lap and laid a few light spanks on her butt. He turned her over and kissed her, his hand finding the place between her legs.

“Remember who’s boss, bad girl,” he warned with a grin. He got up.

“You are such a tease. Get me all hot and then leave me.”

“Wait. Tonight I’ll make it up to you.”

“Good.”

After he left, Lila got up and got going. She was gonna race the Dodge that day!

©2007, Michelle Carlyle