Jim stayed in their room until he was sure Pam was sound asleep. He closed the door with a soft click and headed downstairs to the kitchen. The realization set in that while dinner still need to be put together, he was still feeling overwhelmed by the events of the evening. He sat down at the kitchen table and propped his chin. He couldn't believe that Pam had asked him to spank her and that he had actually been willing to go through with it, along with the fact that she had not backed out at the last second. He found himself staggered by the strength of his love for her. Running his hand over his face, he stood up, thinking about dinner. Pam would certainly be starving after such a long evening and a later dinner than usual. He busied himself by seasoning four chicken breasts to cook on the George Foreman grill that Pam had bought him as a gag gift at Christmas. Jim knew he would eat two of the breasts and wanted Pam to have the option of eating two, even though she usually only ate one. He tossed a bagged salad and added halved grape tomatoes, her favorite. After warming some crusty rolls in the oven, he set the table, checking to make sure he hadn't forgotten anything. The bottle of house dressing from Cugino's, wine, and wine glasses made it complete.

It was almost an hour later when Jim headed back upstairs to the bedroom. Opening the door, he could hear her soft, even breathing. The streetlight was shining through the window by this time. Most nights, it was an inconvenience that was blocked out by the blinds. Tonight, however, the warm light cast upon his sleeping wife made her look absolutely angelic and he almost couldn't bring himself to break the spell. He knelt by the bed once again and reached out to smooth a curl off her cheek and behind her ear. The sensation made her eyes open slowly and focus on him, giving him a languid and well-rested smile.

"Dinner's ready," he said. "Do you want to come down and eat?" She rolled to her back, stretched her arms over her head and extended her legs as far as possible for a few seconds. With a satisfied sigh, she answered, "Yes."

Pam uncovered herself and stood up, still naked from the waist down. She glanced around to find her discarded panties from earlier. Jim picked them up from under the vanity bench. He really wanted to help her put them back on but wasn't sure of her reaction, so he handed them to her with one raised eyebrow. "The blinds downstairs are all closed. You don't have to put on pants." Smiling as she dressed, Pam said, "Perfect."

At the bottom of the staircase, she paused and took his face in her hands, pulling him in for a kiss. Their lips touched, igniting an instant spark of passion. The kiss deepened and as their tongues touched, she pressed him back against the wall. He moaned into her mouth and pushed his hands through her curls, then down her back to her bottom and pulled her toward him. She winced just a tiny bit and he caught her expression.

"Are you-?" he began.

"Still a little sore? Yes," she admitted. "But believe me, it's a good kind of sore," as she allowed her hands to drop below his waist, feeling how hard he had become.

He murmured, "Pam . . .," and she raised a playful eyebrow, as she moved her hands away from where he wanted them most.

"I am starving! Dinner smells great," and sashayed away to the table. Groaning inwardly at the sight of the sexy walk his wife had just given for his benefit, he joined her at the table. Two chicken breasts apiece later and splitting the last dinner roll between them, they left the dishes and relocated to the couch. Pam snuggled against Jim. This was her favorite place in the world and he knew it . . . because it was also his favorite place. They were silent and contemplative for a minute or two, then Pam looked up at him with a twinkle in her eyes.

"I can't believe you spanked me with my hairbrush," she said, giving him a slight elbow to the ribs. "Brute."

Chuckling, Jim replied, "I can't believe you whined about it so much . . . Baby."

"Okay, I see how it's gonna be," she giggled.

Then she said, "Seriously, though. You're a good spanker." He replied, "Well . . . thank you?" She nodded and then twisted her hands together, "I can guarantee you I won't text and drive again."

"Good." Jim affirmed, nodding and taking her hands into his, "I'm glad you learned your lesson."

"Definitely learned," she replied, regarding him closely. She continued to hold his gaze until he finally said, "What?"

"I just wanted to know if you were ever spanked as a kid," she asked.

"Oh, man . . .,"he said, "Definitely yes, and definitely more than once. I have two brothers and a sister. Someone was always in trouble at any given time at my house."

"Tell me?" Pam pumped for more information. "Tell me a story about when you were in the most trouble."

"Really?" he said, "Gosh, it could be hard to narrow down to just one. Like I said, someone was always in trouble on any given day."

"Then it shouldn't be hard to think of one," she said, not giving up.

Pam adored when he told stories of his childhood. She had managed to snag a photo album when they last visited his parents' house. After lunch, she sat alongside Betsy as they leafed through the pages. She told the stories, always happy to talk about her baby, Jimmy. Jim sat in the recliner that day and listened, just in case he needed to clear his name on some of those stories being shared by his mother. And the expression on his face was akin to the expression he held at his barbecue as he watched Pam pore over his yearbook. She was good at snagging anything that had photos of him. And he was a pretty cute kid, if he said so himself.

"I think you're stalling," Pam said, patting his thigh. Even though she knew it would be a story he probably wouldn't want to tell on himself, she was confident he would indulge her curiosity.

"All right, Beesly," he laughed. "When I was nine," he smiled down at her, "I escaped from Mass on a Sunday morning and was discovered by a nun, who delivered me back to my family in the sanctuary."

"You did what?!" Pam exclaimed, "And you got caught by a nun? Oh, I need more details, please!"

"Well, it was during the liturgy. Pete had been jabbing my leg the whole time. And every time we knelt, Tom shoved into me to make me lose my balance. He was being just sneaky enough about it that my parents weren't seeing it. Usually, Larissa was my buffer between me and my brothers. But she had stayed home sick that morning."

"And then what happened?"

"I decided I'd had enough and I pretty much knew that making any kind of fuss about it in church wouldn't end well for anyone. So my alternate solution was to fib and say I had to use the bathroom so I could get away from my brothers for awhile."

"Smart."

"Except as I was walking down the windowed hallway to the restrooms, I could see out into the empty courtyard where there was a sitting area with grass and benches. I looked around to see if I was alone then I went outside and headed for the benches. I could just barely hear the organ playing inside and figured I would stay outside until I couldn't hear it anymore. Well, sitting on a bench quickly turned into running and jumping over them and trying my best to leap from bench to bench. And then I hear a voice call out, 'Young man! Come here at once." I was totally busted. I walked her way and she took me by the hand, which made me feel like a baby. She asked me my name and where I was supposed to be. And then she walked me up the aisle until we got to the row where my family was sitting. I don't think I can accurately describe to you the look in my mother's eyes, or my dad's, for that matter. My shirt was untucked and my face was red and sweaty. I was basically a mess by that point. I slid into the pew and sat down. Tom and Pete didn't even budge. They knew exactly how much trouble I was in and suddenly became perfect angels," he said, wryly.

"Wow," Pam said, "I've never seen your mother mad before or your brothers act like angels."

"Right. Well, she was pretty hot. By that time, Mass was just about over and the priest made a few announcements, then we were out of there. My brothers were mad because we went straight to the car, instead of to the fellowship hall for doughnuts and juice. I got elbowed a couple times in the backseat for that but I was too miserable to care.

"I bet," Pam remarked.

"Our Sunday routine was to come home, change out of church clothes, eat a quick lunch and then relax for the rest of the afternoon." Larissa met me in the hallway just as my mom said, 'Jimmy, go wait in our room.' My sister then knew something was up and asked, 'What'd you do?' I didn't want to answer her question so I just made a face at her before I went into my parents' room and shut the door."

"It seemed like I had to wait in there forever. I could hear the conversations and the table being set for lunch. I didn't know if it would be my mom or my dad who came into the room and I couldn't really decide which would be worse. Mom, who always used the wooden spoon, or Dad, who tended to use his hand but also would use the belt if he was really steamed. He had seemed pretty steamed, so I then decided to hope for my mom because I hated getting the belt."

Pam snuggled deeper into Jim's side, feeling protective of him and the nine-year old version of her husband.

"Their door opened and Mom came in, carrying the wooden spoon like I knew she would be."

Pam released the tiniest sigh of relief and Jim heard her. He smoothed his hand over her hair, smiling.

"I got a long and stern lecture from her about lying and being sneaky and embarrassing her when a nun had to bring me to her. I didn't really get into major trouble very often. Mischief, yes. But the major stuff was mostly left up to my brothers. So I was crying before she even finished her lecture and I knew what was coming next. She told me to bend over her lap, which I hated since I was nine and already getting tall. But I sure wasn't going to struggle with her. I didn't want her to call my dad in to deal with me. She spanked me pretty good with that wooden spoon. I was still wearing my dress pants and they were super thin, so they offered, like, zero protection. I don't even remember how many swats she gave me but it was more than usual and harder than usual. There was a definite lesson being taught and it hurt so bad. A couple of times I tried sliding off her lap, but she didn't allow that to happen. I was a sobbing mess by the time it was over."

He laughed, "That wooden spoon was evil."

Pam was quiet. He looked down at her and asked, "You okay?" She nodded and climbed up on her knees to hug him around the neck.

"Hey, hey, hey . . ." he soothed her, "You don't have to worry about this or me or anything. You know my parents. You know they parented with love. I deserved what I got. I think a nun returning me to my parents was almost worse than if it had been a cop."

Pam chuckled and sat back down, ready to listen to the rest.

"So anyway, Mom hugged me and gave me some time to compose myself before heading to my shared bedroom to change into play clothes. My brothers had already finished their lunch and were out in the tool shed, building some instrument of doom or something. Larissa came to check on me after I'd changed. She hadn't eaten her lunch yet because was waiting to see if I was okay. You know Larissa. I think she thought when I was born, Mom had had another baby just for her. Larissa and I ate lunch with Mom and Dad and then she and I played chess until it was time to do homework.

Imitating the voice of the radio personality, Paul Harvey, he said, "And that's . . . the rest of the story."

Pam giggled at his impression. His ability to mimic was uncanny and never failed to make her happy.

"Good story," she said. "I hardly ever got into trouble as a kid. I was kind of a perfect angel." Her eyes sparkled, teasing.

Jim scoffed and grinned, then reached for his phone on the end table. "Seems like I need to make a phone call for confirmation of this information."

Pam grabbed for his phone but he deftly held it out of her reach.

"Now, who to call?" he wondered aloud, "Penny or Helene?"

"Oh, my gosh, don't you dare!" Pam squealed, practically climbing his frame to reach the phone, only to have him stretch even farther away. Cursing his length, but knowing his weakness, she tickled his ribs, causing him to squirm and curl his body downward just enough that she was able to wrest it out of his hand. She leapt to her feet and scampered upstairs with it. Jim was right on her heels. She stopped at the aquarium on the landing and held his phone over the water, eyebrow raised and eyes twinkling. Jim stopped short when he saw what she was doing, contemplated a moment, then decided to call her bluff. He stepped toward her and she lowered his phone closer to the water. He threw up his hands and said, "Okay, okay! You win this round, Beesly. I won't call your mother."

"Or my sister," Pam clarified.

"Or your sister," Jim promised.

She studied him for a few seconds, then tossed the phone to him. Catching it, he said, "I won't call them . . . today," and grinned.

"OH, you!" Pam exclaimed, rushing into his arms.

"I am curious, however, how a perfect angel would think of stealing someone's phone and then threaten to drop it into a fish tank to get what she wants."

"Guess I'm not that much of a perfect angel after all," she said, sweetly looking into his eyes.

He wrapped his arms around her waist and said, "Oh, I beg to differ. You are my perfect angel," and leaned down to kiss her on the forehead.