I am guessing that a few of my male readers will be familiar with “The Look”. It is that flash of the eyes from your female partner which can cross a room at the speed of light and go straight into your own eyes. It can be transmitted going unnoticed by anyone else in the room. It means simply, “stop what you are doing right now and I will talk to you later”.
I received “The Look” at a party yesterday afternoon. It was a hastily arranged barbecue at a friend’s house, to take advantage of the sunny weather we have been having this September. I had had a few drinks and I was flirting with a charming woman, whom I had engaged in conversation in a corner of the garden. She explained that she and her husband were new to the neighbourhood and I found it a lot more interesting to chat to her, than to talk to the same old faces of friends and acquaintances.
My mistake was spending too long in her company.
The meaning of that look from my wife, when I saw it, was unmistakeable so I decided to make some excuse about getting another drink from the bar. Standing close to us was an old friend so I made an introduction to the woman and began to move away.
I looked across at my wife and she mouthed the word “later” with a stern frown on her face. An hour or so later, when I was in the queue for BBQ food, I saw my wife in deep conversation with the newcomer, laughing and joking about something.
In the car on the way home my wife asked if I had enjoyed my chat with the new person, but she asked it in that sarcastic tone with which many of us will be familiar.
I said, yes.
You seemed to be very entertaining, said my wife. Certainly Caroline seemed to think so.
I replied that I was just being friendly.
We spent the rest of the trip home in silence, not icy but certainly not chatty.
Once in the house I was told to go and strip off my clothes and put myself in the corner of our bedroom. I did so with a heavy heart as I sensed my wife was in a seriously bad mood. I was a little sweaty and sticky so I showered and then went to stand facing the wall. I stood there naked staring at the pattern on the wallpaper. I could hear my wife doing things in the kitchen moving around. When she entered the bedroom I heard the click of the telephone and she sat down to make a call. For what seemed an age she spoke to her mother and then to her sister on one of her weekly chat calls. I heard her tell every little detail about the BBQ and the week ahead. As she finished the call to her sister she said that she had to go and sort out something that had been bothering her. As of now I don’t believe she has mentioned our spanking arrangements to her sister, but she keeps threatening to do so as she thinks her brother-in-law needs to be taken down a peg or two and that he would benefit from a sound thrashing.
After about forty five minutes of telephone chat my wife came up to stand behind me. She whispered in my ear that she would love to tell my new friend Caroline how she deals with naughty boys, by making them stand in the corner.
Maybe, she said, maybe since I liked talking to Caroline so much I should ring her and tell her myself.
Moving closer she passed her hand round in front of me and grasped my stiffening prick. As she rubbed me up and down, she asked me if I thought that was good idea.
No ma’am I replied.
Just as I thought I could not control myself any more the hand was removed and I stood trying not to release.
Well naughty boy, go and write Flirting, 30 strokes, paddle in the punishment book and then come back here and do something useful with this. She tapped my prick and balls with the tips of her fingers.