Free Bare Assed by Alex Algren Page A

flesh.
    The pink skin on George’s ass rippled with the first strike. His muscular thighs clenched. Priscilla knew without looking that he was gritting his teeth, squeezing his eyes shut.
    Priscilla spoke. “Now, tell me again, George, why we don’t jerk off all willy-nilly around here.”
    Strike .
    George rose up on the balls of his feet, his toes gripping the carpet.
    His voice was a throaty whisper. “Because, Priscilla, there is a plan.”
    Priscilla nodded. She whacked him again with less intensity, but still hard enough for him to throw his head back in agony.
    She said, “And that plan is?”
    She stopped long enough to await his answer.
    Breathless, George said, “To give you a…so that we can have…”
    Priscilla grew impatient. “To get me knocked up, right?”
    George nodded. “Right.” He tucked his chin, and Priscilla couldn’t tell if he were wincing or smiling.

    Nevertheless, Priscilla knew she had done enough. She walked out of the bathroom and put her strap away.
    It was probably a waste, anyway. After all, who knew how many times George didn’t get caught, how many times he had whacked off and finished just seconds before Priscilla walked through the door? She was being easy on him, really, giving him the benefit of the doubt, issuing punishment for only crimes she had witnessed with her own eyes.
    Yet somehow it calmed her, this indulgence of hers, made her feel better that she could control at least some aspect of her life. And with that comfort, she left George to replace his clothing and went to the kitchen to pour her soda over ice.
    Â 
    It shouldn’t have surprised her, the news. That was her shitty luck, after all.
    Now, safely inside her front door, Priscilla pulled the cup out of her purse, the plastic, medicinal cup that would measure her husband’s juice and count up the chances she would have of ever having a baby.
    George walked into the living room, already dressed for work.
    â€œYou left early,” he said.
    Priscilla shrugged, tossing her long, dark hair across her shoulder. “Had to be there early.”
    George’s eyes fell on the cup. “Whatcha got there?”
    Priscilla slid it over to him. “It’s your new best friend,” she said.

    He cocked his head. “Excuse me?”
    â€œThat’s right. It’s your come catcher. They want to count your boys down at the clinic.”
    George began his familiar nervous stutter. “I can’t do that…not in that.”
    Priscilla rolled her eyes. “I had a feeling you might say that. So, I stopped by the store on my way home.”
    She pulled the glossy magazine out of her purse and tossed it onto the coffee table.
    She watched for George’s reaction, waited to see in his eyes what she saw every time she walked into the bathroom and caught him gripping his cock.
    When George remained silent, Priscilla spoke. “Now you listen to me. This is the only time I will allow this. This is the only time this will be acceptable, until after, well, you know.”
    She pushed the magazine in George’s direction.
    George shook his head. “And I’m just supposed to do it, just like that?”
    Priscilla threw up her hands. “You do it all the time, George, what’s the difference?”
    He tucked his lips and furrowed his brow.
    â€œLook,” she said. “There’s nothing to be embarrassed about. Just go on in the bathroom like you normally do. Close the door and act like I’m not even here. Just give me a shout when you’re done, and I’ll run it back up to the office.”
    George nodded. Slowly, he picked up the cup and tucked the magazine under his arm. He disappeared
around the corner.
    Priscilla sat on the couch and watched the morning news for the next fifteen minutes. When twenty minutes passed, she rose. George could have finished twice by now.
    She tapped softly on the