It’s Friday evening. You and the wife just parked the car and are about to head into a nice restaurant for dinner when your phone begins to vibrate in your pocket. It’s an important work call, so you tell your wife you need a moment. As you’re pacing around talking on your cell, you notice a big, muscular brute staring at your wife. It’s not a subtle sort of stare. He is glaring in a way that makes both of you uncomfortable. You can tell that in his mind, he’s got your wife’s dress torn off and he’s fucking her on the hood of your car. Even after you make eye contact, giving him a stern stare, he doesn’t stop ravishing your wife in his mind. The muscles that are bursting from his shirt give him the confidence to never back down. You end your call, take your ball & chain by the hand, and enter the restaurant. The glaring brute gives your wife a smile before turning and walking away into the night.
Moments after the hostess seats you, I approach your table with two glasses of water wearing a skimpy waitress uniform. You’re paralyzed. I give you a huge grin that conveys to you that I know how nervous you are, but I’m not going to out you. You feel your heart pounding in your chest as I recite the specials of the night. When it’s your turn to order, your voice begins to crack. You are in the presence of the woman you want most in this world and your wife is seated right beside you! You can’t think straight, your mind is cluttered, and your heart is pounding out of your chest.
The rest of dinner goes on like this, with me sporting quick winks at you whenever I walk by. When your wife goes to the ladies room, I come to the table; “You must be hard as a rock under there.” I offer to do something to relieve that bulge. “When your lesser half returns, go to the men’s room. I’ll follow a minute later.” You remain silent because your wife approaches from behind me, but I can tell from your face that you’ll do as you’re told.
The men’s room has a lock and only one stall, so you are confident as to our having privacy. I watch you excuse yourself from your wife. You slide your hands in your pockets nonchalantly trying to hide your raging hard-on from the crowd. Once you’re in there, I purposely keep you waiting. After what probably felt like an eternity, you open the door a little and peer through looking around for me. I arrive shortly, well aware of how anxious and horny you are. “Sorry, babe, your wife needed my attention. She’s a bit of a bitch actually. So, I was a bit bitchy back to her as well. I just want you to know what you’re going back to after I get you off.” Whatever concern you might’ve had about her was immediately erased by hearing me say, “Get you off” as I begin to loosen your belt.
With your pants off, I put a finger in your chest and tell you to sit down on the toilet seat. I unbutton the first three buttons of my blouse, revealing just enough of my breasts and sexy, lace bra to make your cock jump with your pounding heartbeat. I get on my knees and massage your cock in my soft hands for a moment, careful not to make you cum. When you seem a few seconds away from explosion, I let go of it, sending you squirming in your seat. “Be patient, baby,” I say as I undo another button of my blouse, unhook my bra that fastens in the front, and reveal my luscious melons, paralyzing you once again. I lean forward, spit on the tip of your cock, and embrace it between my tits as I begin to stroke you.
Not 10 seconds later, there’s a pounding knock at the bathroom door! It’s your bitchy ass wife yelling “Where are you?!” “Be right there, honey,” you reply. “The appetizer isn’t agreeing well with my stomach, please go enjoy your dinner, I’ll be out soon.” Adding to your already unraveling nerves, she just stays there, scolding you for taking too long.
So far, my plan is working perfectly. With your cock still between my bodacious breasts, I whisper, “That’s okay, babe. We can continue this next time.”
To be continued next week…