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She slipped off her pumps and left them next to the door. The smile on her face was mischievous: part bashful, part carnal, and she thought with relish of the surprise she was about to bestow on Peter. It was a surprise that would surely get them back in the groove - Pun intended! she thought with a mental giggle - and on to bigger and better things. When she reached the bedroom door she took her clothes off, laying them on the couch. Then she thought better of the neatness, thought that when they finally made it out into the living room later - Much, much later, she thought - that Peter finding a trail of clothes from the entry to his bedroom door might be a more alluring discovery, testifying to her eagerness to hit the sack with him again. So she gathered up her clothing and deposited the sweater on the floor just inside the door, the skirt a few feet farther along. She dropped her thigh-highs. Then she considered and decided she'd leave one on the floor and drape the other half. I felt the tingle again as his strong arms wrapped around me. He smelled of man and the remnants of this morning’s cologne. And as the scent of him filled my nostrils and fired that tingle back up, he released me. By the time I regained my senses, he had the box out and the card open.A simple note card. All it said was “Just In Case”. He looked at me quizzically, holding the long box in his hand. It was about eighteen inches long, and narrow. I gave no sign of what I was thinking. I just stood there, holding my breath.He tore off the paper and lifted the lid. His eyebrows rode high up on his face and he looked up at me from under them, then reached in and lifted out the riding crop.It was a beauty, I had to admit. I’d gone to adult shops and looked at them, but they seemed cheap and tawdry, more toys than anything. I didn’t want to give him something cheap. So I’d actually gone to a place that sold horse tackle and got a real one. A stiff, flexible shaft with a hand grip and wrist.
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