It wasn't my fault

But I got spanked for it anyway. I suppose. P was in a good mood, we were having guests for dinner. He'd cut some top rump beef into cubes and left them in a bowl with a bay leaf and some shallots. We were running a bit late because we both had shopping to do and we'd promised to drop some stuff off at our son's place too. I was pushing P to get a move on, he knew we were late and came out of the kitchen wiping his wet hands on his t-shirt (I didn't bother tutting, it's a waste of time), he smiled and told me not to panic he was off for a shower and we'd be out in no time. Then from the top of the stairs he called me, I had to open the door to hear him.

"Will you pour half a bottle of red wine over that beef please and cover it with cling film," he said and then he was off into the bathroom.

So on the table stood a bottle of red wine, cork at the side of it, the label looked plain enough so I assumed that was the one to use and duly tipped half of it into the bowl. When P came down, dressed and ready to go, he noticed the wine bottle had gone. I'd put it next to a part used Spanish cooking wine in the kitchen.

"Where's my wine gone?" He asked.

"In the kitchen, half in the bowl the rest on the shelf," I said.

"Shit! That was Bekaa Valley wine for tonight!" He said. "Why did you do that?"

"You asked me to, " I said, and then the penny dropped. Bekaa Valley I remembered. "But the label was just ordinary," I started my excuses, "and the top was off and I assumed it was.."

"Well you should have read it. Fuck," he muttered as he went into the kitchen as if to determine whether I was telling the truth or having a joke. He came back long faced with the rest of the bottle and put it back on the dining table. He didn't say anything and we went out, but later in the car and a couple more times he referred back to it, he knew it was a plain label that was what he wanted, he wanted to ask our guests later if they could guess what it was and where from. I told him he could still ask them, they just wouldn't have as many tastes to help them guess. He didn't think that was very funny but the day went smoothly no funny mood or anything. As I said earlier he was in a good mood and my little mistake couldn't dent it for long.

When we got home late afternoon P reverted to the Bekaa Valley, he asked me if I remembered it and I said I'd completely forgotten about it to be honest, but I did recognise the name and knew it was something a bit unusual. I think it was probably the way I said I'd completely forgotten about it as if it was some trivial incident that got him, or maybe he'd intended to deal with me anyway whatever I'd said. But to cut short, he took me into the office and spanked me. I reminded him he'd still got stuff to do in the kitchen and it was just an accident and could I give him a blow job to make up for it but none of it altered my fate. My knickers came down and I was spanked hard for several minutes accompanied by a geography lesson and a bit of history on the conflict ridden region and the importance of reading labels before ploughing in. He softened his tone at the end and told me he knew it was an accident but I should be more careful in future and perhaps a sore bottom would help me to be more careful next time. Then he lifted me aside and I thought 'Goody, blow job time' but he stood up.

"Now I'm a bit behind, I'm off to the kitchen. And he was gone, leaving me rosy cheeked and horny.

Later as we sat and dined, P asked if anyone could guess the origin of the wine. They couldn't but they did agree it was different, and lovely said one of them. P looked pleased, he poured them each a drop more and then put the (empty) bottle aside. He said "I'm glad you like it, sorry I can't offer you more but we only had half a bottle, you're eating the other half." He proceeded to tell them the story, minus the spanking of course, and poured some perfectly decent Rioja into mine and his glasses. I felt my face blush as Steve looked across at me with mock disapproval and said 'smacked wrists then,' with a smile. Ha! If only he knew.

"Well at least the bourguignonne is good," I said. They all laughed including P. Later, after they'd gone and we'd cleared up, we sat and watched some late night TV, I put my hand on P's thigh and said I was sorry about the mistake earlier. But he was almost nodding off, long day plus the alcohol. He said I should say sorry in the morning, before he got up and went for the papers. Then I could snuggle back under the covers with sticky lips and a smile on my face. I did it too, and later in the day got an even bigger smile.

Have a good week.

Ronnie
xx