She might even be able to disuade him from one act, by offering to become an active participant in something she'd find less intolerable. Physically a...t least, she'd be in fairly good shape when he turned her loose. Resistance would only ensure that he used physical force to get what he wanted. Depending on how much of a fight she put up, she might not live long enough for him to free her, or be so busted up she'd die wherever he dumped her, before she could get to a doctor. His voice softened. We moved to the small remote farming town isolated in the bowels of Alabama. I managed to get a low paying job in sales which meant being on the road a lot, hotel nights away, achieving budgets and reaching targets. My wife, Debbie, got a job as a bookkeeper at the local grain merchant. It was the biggest business in town. I normally got home late and tired to satisfy her bedroom demands or was away on business hotel nights. As summer approached she stopped wearing a bra and started wearing. I went on top of her; I started kissing her cheeks, her neck and her tits. It was a delightful site, with her cleavage exposed. I squeezed her boobs, kneaded them. I moved to her navel, tickling her navel with my tongue. I removed her sari with my teeth, she laughed at my skill. I think removing your partner is a skill and needs to have the right tempo. I removed her sari completely, kissing every part of her body that got progressively exposed. She was now in a skin color bra with a matching. It hadn’t even been a slow seduction. One night she simply called me over to sit for her. As soon as she closed the front door behind me, she’d told me to take my panties off (I’d been wearing a skirt). Shocked, I protested. Without a word, she grabbed my arm and marched me into her immaculately furnished living room and bent me over the leather upholstered ottoman, yanked my skirt up over my ass, and pulled my pink cotton panties down around my thighs before spanking me with the flat of her.