Old Enough To Know Better

Old Enough to Know Better

By

Carolyn Faulkner

©2012 by Blushing Books® and Carolyn Faulkner

Copyright © 2012 by Blushing Books® and Carolyn Faulkner

All rights reserved. No part of the book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system, without permission in writing from the publisher.

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Faulkner, Carolyn

Old Enough to Know Better

eBook ISBN: 978-1-60968-598-0

Cover Design by edhgraphics.blogspot.com

This book is intended for
adults only
. Spanking and other sexual activities represented in this book are fantasies only, intended for adults. Nothing in this book should be interpreted as Blushing Books' or the author's advocating any non-consensual spanking activity or the spanking of minors.

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Carolyn Faulkner

The words "spanking" and "discipline" have always sent a shiver up Carolyn Faulkner's spine.

She knows she's not alone.

Writing started as a way to explore her feelings. Soon short stories flowed from her pen featuring reluctant heroes taking the leading lady in hand, but always for her own good.

Today Carolyn is the author of dozens of books. She writes from her home in Maine, where she lives with her husband and leading man.

Visit her website here:

carolynfaulkner.com

Don’t miss these exciting titles by Carolyn Faulkner!

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Prologue

He took her gently over his lap and, despite how careful he always was, she knew it wasn’t going to be good.  There was always true regret in his tone at times like this,  “I hope you know I can only do this because I adore you.”

Unable to speak knowing the next few minutes weren’t going to be pleasant, and with tears already gathering in her eyes at the anticipation of the coming pain, Cat nodded, hoping that would be enough.  It wasn’t always with him.  He sometimes demanded more than she thought she could give all in the name of making sure that she was true to herself, and to him.

“And that I wouldn’t do this if I didn’t think it was best for you.” His lips whispered at her temple before kissing it.

Again, she nodded, biting her lip, feeling the way she always did when he had her in this position – naughty and obviously unhappy at having ended up in this position. . . sort of. 

She struggled as he brought her pants and panties to her knees, but not too hard, having learned from experience that resisting him too much really wasn’t in her best interest.

His big, already warm hand covered almost the entirety of her bottom as it lay there, innocently enough at the time, patting and rubbing slowly.  “Do you know how much I love you?” he breathed, his free hand wandering into the mass of her hair as it spilled down her back.

That was enough to send her over the edge.   With him not having yet lifted his hand to crack it down onto her bottom, Cat dissolved into tears, reaching blindly back to capture that wandering hand with her own and grip it as the only solid thing in her world.  “At least as much as I do you,” she sobbed, kissing his knuckles.

Ignoring the tears in his own eyes in favor of what was best for her, he turned to the situation at hand and the lovely, rounded hillocks he’d much rather caress than spank, but his love for her was such that he would always do what he knew was best for her, without hesitation.

Chapter One

She kept to the back of the gathering, as usual.  These people had been her friends for years and yet she still felt somewhat out of place among them, more than ever since she’d lost Clint.  He’d been her rudder at social events.  Cat allowed herself a small, sad smile.  Without Clint everything seemed flat, even five years later.  She’d pretty much given up the idea that that was ever going to change.  When they’d said their long goodbyes while holding each other in their magical bed as the disease that ravaged him slowly claimed his body, everything in her world had adopted a varying shade of gray.

Nothing had ever truly been right since, and she’d long since given up the idea that it would ever be.

She was dealing, she told her friends, she was dealing - the best she could, which apparently wasn’t the way they wanted her to.  They – a relatively small group of very close friends she’d had since high school, some since grade school – had decided long since that mourning had gone out with the Victorians.  Some of them had tried to set her up only months after Clint had passed on, and she had nearly cut them out of her life for that.

Just because they didn’t have the kind of deep, abiding love relationship with their significant others that she’d had with Clint didn’t mean that they shouldn’t respect the idea that she was still trying to come to grips with the fact that she’d scattered her heart along with his ashes over the rocks at Otter Cliffs.

Not that she’d ever been the life of the party, even with him standing strong and stalwart at her side.  That wasn’t her style at all.  She was a quiet person, much preferring to be a homebody than the center of anyone’s attention but his.  Under his loving, benevolently strict gaze, she bloomed.  He’d been her backbone when she had none, her ego, her conscience . . .  her confessor.

And no one, but no one, would ever, could ever, replace him.

She was a professional widow now.  Every time she said that of herself she remembered how her mother had come to call herself “a widow on a small fixed income” whenever she spoke to anyone once daddy had died.  Thanks to Clint’s almost obsessive financial planning, she wasn’t on a small income.  The house was paid for and she had a very tidy nest egg that would likely survive her.

Not that she had anyone to leave it to.

Children had never been in their plans.  They were much too involved with each other, and had decided early on in their relationship that neither of them wanted to risk the perfection of what they’d found with each other to add a child to it.  And although they would occasionally daydream about what a child of theirs would have been like, neither of them had ever felt they were missing out.  

Clint got into the commercial real estate business early. As a matter of fact, he was still in college for his business degree, and was always self-employed, although he took side jobs to make ends meet, as they both did.  They’d married right out of high school and the two of them worked their butts off at any job they could.  There was no hope of getting ahead, at first, only making it through each month having met their financial obligations was an excuse to celebrate, cautiously.

But with Clint’s natural financial acumen, and both of their sheer hard work, they were able to scrimp and save and buy their first property together, then their first house, and they were off and running from there without ever looking back.  Cat had wandered a bit, somewhat undecided as to what she might like to do with her life.  In the beginning of their time together, she’d taken any job that would get her a stable salary and cover Clint for health and dental insurance, so she’d spent a lot of time at entry level jobs.

But as their own business flourished they came to a point where they could afford to buy their own insurance, and for her to come into the business as a partner; they found that they were living a retired lifestyle at the ripe old age of thirty-four.

They decided that they wanted to do what they had been figuring on doing when they actually did retire, and that was to travel.  So they installed Clint’s neatnik sister in their house to housesit, knowing it would be in good hands, and set off on the occasional relatively long trip – spending a good amount of time in England, as that was one of Cat’s favorite places.  She was an unabashed Anglophile, and dragged Clint from pillar to post visiting all the places she’d read about, mostly dealing with the Tudor dynasty.   They saw the continent, too, and made return trips to Paris and Rome in particular, although London was hands down their favorite.  Clint had even toyed with the idea of gifting Cat with a small apartment there, considering how much time was spent over there, but he decided against it.  They’d found a gorgeous bed and breakfast they adored, with owners that came to treat them like family, and he didn’t want to change that.

And through it all, unlike a lot of other couples that might have killed each other, being together so constantly, it just brought the two of them closer together.  They were truly two halves of a whole; each incomplete without the other.

And a large part of that was the fact that Clint always kept a somewhat benevolent, lovingly watchful eye on his wife at all times.  He’d known her since she was a small child, and he’d seen the permissive way her parents had raised her.  She was an only child, and although she was never truly a brat, she had never been given much in the way of rules or restrictions. In turn, she’d grown up expecting that things in her life would go a certain way and that she could get away with doing certain things and no one would ever call her to account, as her parents had not.

Clint had set about disabusing her of that notion from day one of their relationship.  She was spoiled, which wasn’t her fault, but that wasn’t something he could support or encourage.  She’d grown up in a three person family in a beautiful fourteen room turn of the century Victorian.  He’d grown up on the wrong side of the tracks, in a five room house with six people in it.  Needless to say, their leaner years were much harder on her than they had been on him.  He’d grown up on lean, and could squeeze a nickel ‘til the buffalo pooped.

The first time she’d crossed that boundary while they were married was when she’d blown one of her paychecks on a beautiful dress, which he certainly appreciated on her at the time, when she’d graced him with an impromptu fashion show in their three room apartment not far from where he’d grown up.  He’d gotten home from a long day working at job number three just to help them keep body and soul together and, despite all of the whirling and twirling she’d done, showing off her purchase and the beautiful body beneath it, she’d ended up receiving a rather unexpected comeuppance, especially since the money she’d spent should have gone towards the alarmingly past due electricity bill.