Marie and Jean met Lucy and George – Part One of Ten

To see more of ‘B’, click on ‘Links and Contributors’ in the menu above. Then click on ‘Contributors’, and scroll down to her page.

She also runs a rather magnificent spanking game which I recommend whole heartedly. Click below…

This next story in her section is a joint venture between her and me. Although being honest, most of it her work, I have just added here and there.

Marie and Jean met Lucy and George part 1/10

Bonjour, my name is Marie, I am twenty-four and married to Jean who is twenty-eight. We are both French and we are to relocate near Cambridge, Grande Bretagne or United kingdom en anglais. Jean is a research engineer part of an exchange program.

We were welcomed at the airport by Jean’s research colleague, George, and his wife Lucy. They are both Scottish and I am thankful for their very good knowledge of French because my English needs to be improved.

I was quite surprised by Lucy’s exuberance and her jeans miniskirt. It was much shorter than mine and unlike me, she didn’t regularly tug it down to avoid showing too much bare thighs. She even seemed not to mind what she was showing. Actually, it seemed to me that her husband liked the idea of his wife showing her shapely thighs.

They helped with our luggage and lead us to their car, a superb green Jaguar with leather seats which felt cool with my mini. They drove us to a new development on the outskirts of Cambridge, and we discovered the house, which was part of our relocation package. It was superb and next door to their own. It was also already furnished, and Lucy showed me a thick folder with useful info.

It was almost time for lunch and they invited us. We opened our first suitcases and refreshed ourselves before walking down to their house. We were pleased to discover a quiet and affluent neighborhood. I spotted a few young ladies my age wearing miniskirts. They weren’t as short as the one of Lucy, but shorter than mine. It looks as if British girls are more daring than us French, and some seemed to wiggle their bottoms. I could see Jean being mesmerized by their shapely thighs.

George welcomed us and he was soon joined by Lucy. We complimented them for their lovely house as we discovered their cozy lounge. Jean offered a bottle of Champagne, and I apologized for it not being cold enough for the apéritif. Lucy told me not to worry about it. She understood the gesture was kind and well meant, but explained, “…you have simply not had time to cool it, you have only just got here, we understand.”

George looked at her proudly. Obviously, her being polite and correct was important to him.

Lucy brought a tray of canapes and I almost saw her petite culotte as she had bent to set it down on the coffee table. She had made no attempt for proper modesty. Jean’s eyes had sparkled, and I gave him a discreet frown.

We moved into the dining room and started with traditional Scottish haggis. It was much better than what we had tasted on our previous visits to Scotland. Next was a roast, and George frowned. He must have noticed as we did that the potatoes and vegetables were under cooked. Soon Lucy also discovered that and blushed as she offered to add our plates in the microwave for a minute. George helped with taking them and followed her into the kitchen with saloon like swing doors.

What followed had our eyebrows dancing. We heard it all and almost saw it all because of those flimsy swing doors. He scolded her, and that was soon followed by loud smacks. We didn’t need the help of Sherlock Holmes to understand that George was giving Lucy a good fessée.

We had heard about English, or in their case, Scottish domestic discipline, but we had never imagined to just about witnessing it. I was quite surprised that they hadn’t thought if we would be shocked by such a spanking. It felt like it was as obvious as the sun shining in the morning, and us being on the other side of those swing doors had to be accidental. For a second, my imagination played tricks, and I imagined myself being spanked by Jean for having messed up lunch for important guests.

I pictured Lucy being bent over the kitchen counter, her feet a foot or so apart. Miniskirt up and tiny knickers stretched between her legs.
The smacks were loud. She was for sure spanked on her bare bottom because her skirt should have muffled the smacks.

They returned with the plates. George apologized for his wife’s poor behavior in serving under cooked potatoes and vegetables. “Now darling, apologies to our guests, properly.”

It was quite strange to see that Lucy was red face, but smiling when she said. “I am very sorry for such a shortcoming and embarrassed that you had to be almost witnessing my punishment.”

She wriggled in her seat for the remainder of the meal, and we remained as phlegmatic as Britons in training. I thought that such wriggling must have been caused by something more stingy than George’s hand.

On the walk back to our house, I was intrigued by a couple of schoolgirls wearing minis as short as the one of Lucy.

After that eventful day, Jean carried me into our new bedroom. We talked of the spanking, but I didn’t tell him of my imagination having ran wild and then we enthusiastically tested the bed…

B and Asa
To be continued…