She began to cry. But I knew the difference between real and fake tears.Grabbing both her arms I began wrapping thick red tape around her clasped hand... I did the same with her legs. As I didn’t want her trying to stop me like last time. Sitting on my chair I grabbed her by her hair and through her over my knee. One hand on the bottom of her back. I lifted my right hand high into the air and struck with a barrage off wild yet erratic hard slaps. I kept the rhythms mixed and went two to three. Ok, ok, so I’m not the most romantic, passionate man alive. I do care, again my wife, says I am so far from a romantic I am just plain pitiful.I mean come on, I work my ass off to make sure we can live a good life. At the end of the day love, beyond a kiss and a hug, goes past my endurance. I even started at the gym to try and build that up, no dice.So here I am coming home early from the gym feeling somewhat down. I figured I’d surprise her, that was ’til I walked in the. More

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