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. The slap training of Johnny Smith

Discussion in 'Cuckold Stories' started by Lutheran Maid, Apr 12, 2018.

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  1. Lutheran Maid

    Lutheran Maid Well-Known Member Author!

    It was by chance that Elizabeth learned to slap her husband John and by chance that it became the modus operandi of his training. There had been a party, a boozy, sun drenched, relaxed Friday evening party over at the Cardington's. Elizabeth had got along wondering whether she was too tired to relax. Sometimes it can be that way. But then the music had been good and the wine exceptional. What was it about the Cardington's cellar that kept on giving? There had been caterers in to do the canap├ęs and amidst the team of hispanics, black guys and Poles, one utterly delicious, silent tall, hard eyed black dude with a name badge on that said Lester. Elizabeth had never been quite so near a Lester before. A rough black arrogant male. Sure, she had seen them about the streets, promenading with the little white bitches that they probably owned. But one had never before come into her circle. It had then been a small matter to ask Lester about her favourite Helican Bay prawn bruschetta knowing full well that none were out on the trays. Perhaps she could help him look out back, in the van that was parked at he rear of the house. Lester understood. Of course he did. Dozens of other white women had given themselves to him. It was what white bitches did, hitching up their tiny leather skirts so that they could show him their cunts and then taking it with little mewling grunts against the wall. A lot of white bitches were getting the black cock they craved. The habit was growing and Lester, well, Lester, was about to feed that habit. He liked the sassy little leather skirt that Elizabeth wore. He like the dark stockings beneath.

    They fucked without a word. Lester looked at her and she dropped her gaze in submission. Yes, I need to fuck, please, the look said. So he casually put his hand up her skirt and checked out how wet she was. The bitch was sopping. Her cunt was a soft, sweet, slimy mess. He gestured how she was to hold the hem of he little leather skirt hitched up and then noted how she stared at his cock when he took it out. Yeah bitch, it's bare! Yeah, it hard and all and it got a head on it that is going make your cunt spasm. He pushed her against the van, kissed her hard on that lipstick mouth of hers. He pushed up her ray ban's on her head so he could see her eyes squint when he stuck her and he pushed his cock straight in. She winced, of course she did. Moist she might be but she wasn't stretched out. She wasn't a black guy's bitch yet. So he made her wince some more, her body shaking uncontrollably on the hook of his cock. Stupid little posh bitch, she came so quickly, so easily. He listened to her moan, her mouth opening and sucking in the warm evening air breathes as he pushed casually in and out of her. Then he dumped a load in her. He dumped a load in her and felt her buck against him to take his gift.

    It was only as he pulled out of her, dripping, that he saw the podgy guy watching them. He hadn't been there earlier. Lester guessed though, her husband. He had come looking for her about something. Now, now it looked as though he might have to take a smack. So what? Another job. There was a labour shortage. His conquest had spotted the anxious looking, the embarrassed nerd and she strode over to him. Whack! She slapped him hard across the face so that his head shot left. That was some slap!

    'Don't you ever disturb me like that again!' she said icily.

    Lester grinned. No worries.

    Elizabeth caught breath as she walked firmly back towards the party. Goodness, had she just done that? had she just slapped John her husband so hard, and because he caught her enjoying a fuck? First off, she had never fucked anyone else before, not in their six years of marriage. It hadn't been what she had been brought up to do. Second though, she had never slapped him, never slapped her husband. Yet it had seemed the inevitable and the right thing to do. She couldn't countenance a row. She couldn't bear to think of John thinking about her that way, as a slut. She couldn't bear to think of the handsome black dude with his amazing cock getting into hassle for what he'd given her. Elizabeth went and found another drink and then she sat in the orangery and watched the string quartet do classical things with violins. Her cunt was full of the black guy's semen. It felt luxurious, delicious, wanton, superior. The fuck had made her heart race, her back tingle, her nipples Harden bolt upright. It had been fabulous. Then John had sat beside her. His face still looked sore, one cheek redder than the other. His eyes looked panic struck.

    'Sorry, I'm so ashamed of disturbing you' he whispered.

    'I should think so' she hissed back, her words clipped, trimmed like a formal French garden hedge. She didn't look at him. She couldn't look at him. She felt guilty but exultant. Lester, God...Lester! But that apparently was enough. She didn't have to look at him. He wasn't challenging her. 'Now fuck off' she said to him slowly, again without a look. John went! He slunk off to the bar and a crony or two to talk horse racing or something. She had dismissed him, just like that!

    It was because she knew that another rather debonair and handsome black gentleman called Erwin was going to be at the Howard's luncheon party that she thought once more about John's refreshing capitulation. It had seemed surprisingly sexy, not only having her cunt full of another man's semen, but the dismissal of her husband. As they dressed for the lunch, Elizabeth in a little black cocktail dress, she said to him,

    'What does this mean?' and she twisted her Rolex watch about her wrist so it sat beneath her wrist.

    John had stared at her. What did it mean?!

    'It means fuck off someplace else' she said firmly.

    It was too vulgar to actually discuss these things, too terrible to actually discuss that she was now going to fuck around. One didn't do that, at least not in the realm of polite conversation.

    John had started to demure, saying that he didn't have a clue what she really meant and she had stood smartly up from her dressing table and slapped his podgy face for him again. His face once again jerked around and you could almost see his skin smarting. He raised a hand to his cheek in solace.

    'You learn to read my signals and you don't challenge, understood?' That was about as much as she deigned to say. It wasn't to be discussed. Her eyes were so sharp, her mouth set in that no nonsense way. John had nodded. He watched her finish her readying, the red lacquer on her nails, the choker about her throat, the lustrous grooming of her perfect hair. She was getting ready to see someone else.

    No one told John that his wife was going black, but he learned soon enough a the luncheon party. They had socialised together, talking about the racing season ahead, they had talked opera, and they had bemoaned the sluggish stock market and then Erwin had joined them. He was dressed casually, in immaculate slacks and a sports jacket, his shirt open so his his chest hair showed. Elizabeth signalled without a glance his way. He was to give ground to fucking Erwin. For a moment he had resisted. But his cheeks smarted in anticipation. His fucking cheeks smarted just thinking about how the bitch slapped. So he had made an excuse about the need to go find a drink. He had glanced at that fucker Erwin and realised so hard, just how alert he would now have to be as regards Elizabeth's moods and whims.

    May be Erwin wasn't a lothario? He wasn't like the opportunist caterer, but he knew when a bitch was coming on to him. Elizabeth was classy. She dressed really well and her tight little ass, well that looked good in the dress.

    'You sent him away didn't you?' he asked calmly, not knowing how she had, but sensing it strong.

    'Yes' she answered smiling shyly at him.

    'you needing to fuck?' he asked casually, taking a further drink of the vodka.

    She nodded.

    'I don't fuck one night stands. Once I fuck a bitch, I go on fucking her' he warned.

    Her heart raced.

    'I understand. That's what I want too' she admitted. There had been so many times hadn't there when she had noticed Erwin at a social. Now she wanted it to be something more, something discreet but passionate.

    'John a problem about that?' Erwin wondered. Hell, it was neat, the idea of fucking this woman, but who needed the hassle of blatting an angry husband.

    'He does as he is told' Elizabeth whispered, barely able to check his expression. That was so sexy wasn't it, so sexy!

    Erwin grinned. He'd heard about this stuff. Yeah, he liked this stuff. He liked the thought of a haughty sassy bitch. He liked it a lot!

    'We could use the bedroom, Anton won't mind' Erwin said, referring to their host, 'but you should have Johnny Smith stand guard for us may be?'

    The thought of that thrilled her. It shouldn't have, it just did.

    So she went and found him. The man that Erwin called Johnny Smith. Such a common surname to use. Such a put down.

    'Follow me' she said crisply and watched him start. He hadn't expected this. He hadn't expect to see her for an hour. For a second he wanted to demure. The thought of the sordid moment. The thought of being near her when she took what she needed. But Elizabeth's eyes narrowed and he nodded. Following her he couldn't avoid looking at her pert rear, the movement of her tight little buttocks in that dress. She had such perfect legs, such shapely legs.

    Erwin glanced at him. It was a look of incomprehension. What sort of sad fucker was he? Elizabeth took his hand though and the pair of them found their way to the bedroom. They ascended the stairs, John following, they ambled through the soft lit corridor, John following. She wanted to test him. She turned glanced his way and looked up at Erwin. She was begging for a kiss which he gave. John winced. He winced.

    Her slap came quick then, sharp and stinging to his other cheek. He wasn't to wince. He wasn't to judge. His face really hurt!!

    Elizabeth invited another kiss from the attractive Erwin. He obliged and John's head dropped. Better. That was better.

    'Wait out here, make sure we're not disturbed' she said crisply.

    'Yes....Miss' he added just in time, the Miss before she could slap him again.

    Erwin chuckled. The fucker chuckled and took her inside the bedroom, his arms snaking around her, even before the door had closed.


    [Goodness, I remember training my husband in much this way! A slap pulls the mat from under a man! Its the insult as much as the pain in his cheek. I wonder what others' think? I use slapping a little in 'The Intimacy of Three' (Amazon). So selfish, such a memory pleasure!]
     
  2. 3ballz

    3ballz Member Member

    How jealous I am of John!! To be standing guard and listening to his wife's moans and grunts as her new bull ploughs his manmeat into her. Delightfully written Lutheran Maid.
     
    Lutheran Maid likes this.
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