[RECOGNITION: the act of acknowledgement, of admission]




I wiped my mouth with the back of my hand, determination my guiding force, and walked over to the kitchen table. One (breath), two (breath), three (breath), I counted to myself, took a really deep breath and let the assault commence.

Raising both my hands above my head, I exhaled and brought them down, now fists, as I hit the table as hard as I could. The spoon from my empty cereal bowl flew into the air, spun around and hit K smack, full force on the top of her head. The loud thud my fists made on the table scared the living piss right out of her and she dropped the paper in shock and tumbled backwards off her chair as she tried to swat away the flying unknown projectile hitting her noggin. The sound of my fists hitting the table also scared the ***** out of my dog who yelped loudly a couple of times before crawling on his stomach like a soldier under enemy fire to Ks side.

As the two of them lie on the floor, side by trembling side, shaking with faux fear, I screamed – not a shrill, fearful scream like when you see a ghost or a spider – no, a scream of frustration like when you forget why you walked into a room for the fifth time, trying to remember what it is you were looking for. AAAAAAHHHHHHHH I screamed so loudly I scared myself a little.

The two of them jumped simultaneously at the sound of the desperation in my voice and I screamed again just to make sure they got it . . AAAAAAHHHHHHHH!!

Elvis covered his ears with his front paws and began to whimper while K sat up on her elbows and simply said, What the *****?????

I straddled K placing my hands on my hips, shot a get the ***** out of here look toward that sissy pervert dog, then turned my attention to my wife, staring down in disbelief . . .

What the *****??? YOU have the nerve to say What The ***** TO ME? irritation filled my cracking voice which caused K to lie down flat and quiet on the floor.

Before I rip you a new one, babe, tell me something, I asked as sarcastically as I could. And before she could get one syllable out of her stunned mouth I continued, not letting her speak at all.

Have you noticed anything, ANYTHING AT ALL different about our relationship? I practically screeched as I asked.

Again she opened her mouth to speak and even ventured back up on her elbows, but I refused to let her into this conversation. She was to listen and learn, not orate any of her predictable excuses. And when I once again began to pontificate, she once again slithered to the floor, a little scared.

Have you been able to tell AT ALL that I am not happy, that WE are not happy, that WE are not even WE anymore? I detected a look of stunned disbelief on Ks face and for a moment, only a brief moment, I thought that maybe K really didnt know that things were falling apart between us.

(NO< NO< SHE KNOWS SOMETHING IS WRONG --I WILL NOT BE FOOLED BY THAT LOOK OF INCREDULOUS WONDERMENT ON HER FACE --THAT LOOK SHE WEARS WHEN SHE IS TRYING TO TELL ME I AM MORON)

Jesus, ***** Bette, K, I began again. You have been treating me like an invalid whose days are numbered since I got home. Not that I mind any attention you shower on me, but for the love of L, K I didnt stay dead. I came back, back to life, back to you, back to us.

For the second time in less than two minutes, K tried to sit up and explain herself.

What am I supposed to do babe? K pleaded, WHAT?? I am following every single piece of advice Dr. Hartman recommended from the diet to the exercise to the care I am supposed to take in keeping you stress free. So tell, me Beach, what the ***** do you want me to do?

It was now my turn to be stunned. This was supposed to be my *****-ripping and K was supposed to be quiet, docile and obedient, three traits obviously foreign to her. I had to think fast, to respond quickly before she asked another really good question!

Just . . Just . . . You just shut up, K, that was it. That was my well-thought out intelligent response. Just lie back down there and shut up.

I stared her down as meanly as anyone with such articulate verbal skills as mine could in this situation, and, surprisingly enough, she began her descent back to the floor, smiling and trying her damndest not to laugh.

I said just shut up K and that means no smiling, laughing or anything else like that, so just you, you, you shut your trap and be quiet. Once again an excellent verbal toss from my direction, duh.

So you want to know what to do, what the ***** you are supposed to do, I asked almost mocking her and stepping away from her body Ill tell you what you are supposed to do you thick-skulled clueless knucklehead.

I walked over to the counter and opened the top cupboard.

Youre supposed to treat me like I am fine, like I am A-OK. Youre supposed to let me eat what I want, to read any FAN FIC story I ***** want to read, and you are most definitely supposed to make love to me like you love me, K, like you used to do every single frickin Sunday weve been together. Thats what the ***** you are supposed to do.

I was still a little frustrated, still experiencing a residual anger as I looked over to my lover sitting on the floor, her head bent down, running her hands through that crazy hair of hers shaking her head slowly from side to side.

I turned back to the cupboard and moved a few things around and found a bag of little powdered donuts I had stashed away for this very moment – the moment I would be released from my dietary prison. Since a bag of donuts never lasted more than a day in our house let alone a week or in this case a month, I wasnt quite prepared for the state of the goodies inside.

Grabbing and tearing open the bag I turned back to K and held up a donut.

This is what Im talking about babe, letting me eat what I want.

K looked up and watched in amusement as I tried to bite the four week old stale donut, looking directly into her eyes as I popped the tiny dessert into my mouth. As I bit down, not one single solitary flake of powdered sugar moved off that ring of lead-like dough. And as my teeth tried to bore into that rock solid Sweet 16 er, I swear on a bible I cracked a tooth.

Making that face one makes when accidentally swallowing sour milk, I removed the powdered brick from my mouth, spit out stale sugar and tossed the thing behind me, knocking a glass into the sink and breaking it into several large pieces.

I looked at K who was just about to laugh out loud when I pointed a finger in her direction and hollered, Dont you dare make a noise, K. DO NOT LAUGH.

But since obedience wasnt one of her strong her points on this Sunday, K exploded in a torrent of suppressed giggles, causing me to do the same. And as I began to laugh and look K in the eye, I felt it – that spark that had been missing from our relationship for the past eight weeks. And I know she felt it too.

I threw the bag of remaining donuts to the floor and laughed again as I watched Elvis try to lift them up, but instead drag the bag is if it weighed a ton, out the kitchen door to the garage.

I turned to K, walked over to her, grabbed her by the back of her tank and lifted her to her feet. I threw my arms around her waist, holding her close, my chest against her back, my mouth on her neck, kissing her, licking her, causing her nipples to visibly harden through the white tank. I knew she felt it too, I knew it.

K, I whispered into her ear, not willing to let go. Baby, Im fine, Ive missed you so much, and I am telling you right here, right now, I want you, I want you so ***** badly its killing me !

I couldnt see it but I could feel her smile through the soft moan she exhaled.

K, I continued to whisper in her ear, my hands leaving her waist and sliding down the inside front of her baggy silk shorts. I want this Sunday to be like the others. My fingers crawling and finding their way between her legs. (***** EH, I KNEW SHE FELT IT!!)

I want you to ***** me up against the wall, K, I continued to whisper in her ear as my fingers began to drip with her excitement. Then I want you to make love to me on the couch in front of the window with the curtains wide open, Her legs spread just slightly at the suggestions I was making.

And before I could tell her my next request she turned in my arms and grabbed the back of my head and hair with her both hands and kissed me, deliciously and passionately and oh so wildly as she backed me into the kitchen wall.

(THANK YOU BETTE !! AMEN, HALLELUIAH AND THANK YOU AGAIN !!)

As we lie tangled together, two hours later, naked on the sofa in front of living room window, our clothes scattered over the kitchen floor, I couldnt help but feel just a little full of myself. I had taken a stand, stood my ground, got my way and was feeling sassy. And there was no way this day was going to end before I got to shower K with a little Beach lovin in my own special way.

Ya know, babe, that was great, but I am still just a little bit miffed at the fact that it took eight weeks and some pretty desperate moves on my part to get you to see the light.

I disentangled myself from K just enough to roll on top of her, prop myself up on my forearms and look her in the eye.

Yea, I am truly am sorry about that, hon, I truly am. I cant believe that I was so blind when all I wanted was for you to get better and be like this with me again. K ran her finger thru my hair, brushing aside the strands which fell forward as I looked down at her.
She leaned up to kiss me but I put a finger on her lips and stopped her.

I know you are sorry, K but I still think you need to be reminded of how bad you have been to me over the past few weeks. A little discipline might be appropriate, dont ya think. Maybe you just need to be fucked back on track. I raised my eyebrows up and down and smiled evilly at her as the light bulb of recognition lit up her face.

Well, Im not sure what you have in mind, but I am sure I deserve anything you dish out., she replied shyly, slyly and wickedly.

Alrightee then, I cried with glee as I jumped off the couch, grabbing Ks hand and dragging her to the bedroom. No sooner had we made it through the bedroom door then I pushed her onto the bed and told her to wait there and be still.

I rushed to the closet and found my favorite black leather boots, the ones which zipped up the side and had the six inch stiletto heels. I always had a hard time keeping my balance in those things, but they made me look hot, or so I thought. I dug around a little more in the closet and found it – the instrument of discipline I so needed to teach K a lesson and make me ***** so hard I just might faint – -that lovely black leather cat-o-nine tails – that wonderful whip of choice!

But this particular little toy was made especially for us – equipped with tiny plastic exploding bags on the ends of the tails. It had been Ks turn to fill the bags – which we took turns doing – filling them with different delectable, edible, tasty treats which covered our bodies and needed to be licked off after landing. I hoped K didnt fill it with something that could turn sour since we hadnt used the thing in weeks !

I came out of the closet (HA!) donned in my birthday suit and leather boots, playing with the whip in my hands. K was sitting on the bed, up against the headboard reading a book, looking bored as if I had taken way too long in returning. She looked at me as I licked my lips and raised my eyebrows and all she said as she tossed the book aside was,

If you make a hole in the mattress with those ***** heels I will kill you, you stooge.

Oh yea? I asked through my laughter. Well, just watch this, Missy, watch in awe,

I hopped up on the bed, the heels of the boots hanging off the back as I only put the balls of my feet on the mattress. I swayed back and forth trying to keep my balance and accidentally let the whip crack in the process., smacking K directly across her chest and stomach and covering her with honey which oozed out of the broken bags.

*****, K, that looks good, as squealed as I lost my balance and fell on top of her, both of us exploding in uncontrollable laughter. She was still sweaty from the earlier encounters and was now covered in sticky honey and I was so ***** hot at that sight that she soon would be covered in my juices as well.

A few hours later, as it was beginning to get dark outside, we once again lay entangled in each others bodies, just so happy to be with the one we loved. The whip was no where to be found but I was still wearing the boots, something which certainly excited the living ***** out of K.

Im sorry I kept you from getting anything done today, K, I said feigning regret. I know you have a lot of projects lined up. Maybe we should take a shower and I should let you get to work. I played with her ***** as I spoke, stoking each one up, down and around with my thumb.

Mmmm, she moaned quietly in response to my thumbs actions, youre right. I do need to get something done, but in a minute, ok babe?

And 60 seconds is exactly what I gave her before I slid off the bed, kissed her once on the forehead, and headed to the bathroom. I opened the shower stall sliding door and turned on the water. In a matter of moments, the bathroom was full of steam and I wiped the a spot on the mirror so I could check my reflection. As I leaned into the mirror, I saw her behind me and nearly screamed out loud.

Jesus, BETTE, where have you been? I turned around and saw HER through the steam standing against the bathroom wall, arms crossed, smiling so big it made me uncomfortable. SHE looked me up and down, either admiring my nakedness or my boots.

I havent been anywhere, Beach, she replied through her smile. I never left you.

Oh please, I groaned, please dont try to tell me that ridiculous story about the two sets of footprints in the sand – me and you then you carrying me – not that stupid story.

Bette chuckled, still leaning up against the wall. No, not that story, Beach. No story at all actually. Just your lack of experience reading the signs, recognizing my face, my handiwork in others. Thats all. No big deal really. Youll catch on. K, too. Shell know what to do.

Hey, who you talking to in there, babe? K yelled from the bed. I shot Bette a shut your trap look and opened the bathroom door. No one, hon, just running the water and waiting for you. As I ducked my head back into the bathroom, I found I was alone and I looked around to be sure.

I was making us dinner after we had showered and made love one more time, when I looked out the window and saw K working in her studio. She was wearing nothing but a pair of bib overall shorts, no bra, no underwear, and a pair of safety glasses as she worked the wood. As I watched her work, Christmas music blaring, I realized what I had to do – I knew what was expected of me and I smiled at the thought.

I took a plate of food out to the studio and told K I would be back later, that I had to answer a call. She thanked me for the food and gave me a puzzled look as I walked out the door and down the street.

An hour later I returned. She came to the door of her studio, wiping her hands on an already dirty towel. She leaned against the door, raised her safety goggles and stared at me, smiling as I straddled the sides of the brand spankin new Harley Davidson 800 bright orange Sportster motorcycle.

SA WEEEET, she said as she winked her approval . . . .let the games begin babe

TBC . . . . . .