A Date to Remember
Tem 14, 2022 // By:analsex // No Comment
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“Damn, you are absolutely the sexiest damn MILF I’ve ever seen!”
I smiled at those words coming from none other than my own loving husband as he sat on the edge of the couch admiring me as I made my entrance into our small living room.
“So I take it that you like my new dress?”
OK, so I was fishing for compliments but why not? After all, I already KNEW he loved it simply from the way his eyes roamed up and down mentally undressing me as they went from my five-inch heels, up my legs to where my stocking tops were barely concealed by the lacy hem of my short dress. A pause as he took in my ass, clearly outlined by the tight thin fabric of my dress. My thong was so small it could barely be seen while higher up my brown hard nipples showed through prominently without any liner or bra to conceal them. Then again, with a neckline plunging so low and the sides cut so sharply it wasn’t like much of my boobs were hidden in the first place. Although they weren’t as large as I knew my husband wished they were, I was still rewarded with his eyes fixated on them such that anything from my neck upwards barely got any attention – which was a shame given the charge he’d be seeing on the credit card for the hair styling I’d just had done earlier in the day.
“You know… I’ll never figure out how you even get those dresses on,” he joked with me, “Some sort of magical textured paint?”
I couldn’t help but roll my eyes at this well-worn joke of his that he never seemed to tire of telling me. He loved all of my tight outfits – the tighter and skimpier the better so far as he was concerned. As yes, this particular dress wasn’t the easiest to squeeze into and I did feel somewhat like I was going to split it open any second but the sales girl swore it was designed to stretch without breaking so I’d have to depend on her word on the matter.
Steve nodded at my legs saying, “Those stocking really do it for you… they make your legs look so long and I love how the tops just barely come up to your dress.”
Like most women, I’m not a big fan of pantyhose or stockings. There’s really only two reasons for wearing pantyhose – first, keeping your legs warm in winter without having to wear pants. Maybe not the most protection in the world but definitely better than bare legs! Then secondly, and the reason most women wear them, is to make my legs look better. Thus if it was always decent weather and nobody ever saw me, I’d never wear the damn things but unfortunately that’s far more the exception rather than the rule.
This particular pair were sheer black and thin enough that it was more like they were superimposed over my legs rather than hiding them. The elastic band on top that was keeping them from falling down my thigh was decorated with pretty black lace. With my open-toe heels I’d chosen a style without the heavy black toe but then I wasn’t exactly worried about durability as the life expectancy for this pair was being measured in hours, not days.
“I see you’re wearing his ankle bracelet,” Steve observed.
Indeed I was wearing my Christmas gift from my daddy given way back in my teenage years It had to cost him a fortune back then and I’ve always worried it was going to get caught accidentally and come off when I wasn’t paying attention but after all these years it’s still intact.
“Yes but I have YOUR necklace,” I soothed his precious ego as my hand went to the sparkling cross hanging by a gold chain around my neck. It was diamond studded and I loved the way it caught the light and shown like a beacon. It was my favorite piece of jewelry and rarely did it leave my neck.
“And don’t forget this,” I added, holding up my left hand to show off the wedding and engagement rings he’d given me. These NEVER came off no matter what I was doing. It kills me just to take them off long enough to be cleaned and checked by our local jeweler. Just because I was planning on having sex with another man tonight didn’t mean I was going to remove my rings. If anything it meant all the more to me TO wear them in such circumstances.
Stepping carefully so as not to trip over my own two feet, I stood in front of my loving husband and twirled on one foot.
“God I’m going to miss you tonight,” he groaned as he positioned himself on the couch to allow his swelling dick room to expand.
“Well, that’s YOUR fault,” I reminded him all too quickly, “Aunt Linda said she’d watch the girls if you wanted to fuck Kristi tonight but noooooo, you had to play the martyr. And what’s with that anyways? Sheesh, I can remember when you’d jump at any chance to do my cousin.”
Indeed, Steve DID normally seek out any chance he could get to fuck my slutty cousin who was about two years younger than me. Back when she was a high-paid prostitute he seemed to avoid her more but ever since she’d hung up her transparent heels (figuratively) he put all that behind them and it was back to the old days again. Then Kristi married this creepy guy who had been a client of hers and during that time Steve again seemed to avoid her. None of us could figure celtabet giriş it all out though and frankly it didn’t surprise any of us when she finally divorced him a few months ago.
“Hey, since when is it wrong for a guy to just stay home and jerk off to some porn while his wife’s out screwing another guy?” he asked me teasingly.
“Well, the fact that you EVER have to jerk off is nobody’s fault but your own you know.”
Steve just shrugged his shoulders and ignored me, or at least pretended to. Sitting on his lap, I leaned into him and put my arm around his neck and then kissed him on the mouth, our tongues quickly emerging to touch the other. Mmmmmmm, I loved to kiss my sexy husband! Then it was like an almost automatic reaction as his hand started to work its way up under the hemline of my dress.
“No no no… you know better,” I admonished him playfully as I swatted his hand back, “I want to be nice and fresh for later tonight.”
“Well, then you’d better not be fresh when you get back home then,” he muttered almost sullenly.
It may have sounded weird but I knew what he meant. Steve LOVED to watch me be fucked by other men and if he couldn’t watch, then at least he expected to smell the sex on me when I returned. As his wife, he knew that what other men dreamed of and if they were lucky, got to experience for a few hours, was HIS anytime and anyplace he wanted it. Yep, if there was one thing I was guaranteed after going out tonight it was I’d be getting one hell of a fuck from Steve on my return. It was almost like he couldn’t wait reclaim what was rightfully his, like a dog marking his territory after being invaded by another male.
“You know… I COULD call and cancel and I just happen to know that Aunt Linda’s available tonight. We could even go out first if that’s what you want seeing as how I’m all dressed already.”
Steve shook his head firmly as his hand rubbed along the inner part of my upper thigh through my hose.
“No way,” he responded, “I know what this means to you and I would never do that to you. Besides, this way you owe me one.”
“Oh Steve!” I hushed him, “That’s just silly.”
“Oh?” he replied inquisitively, “We’ll see if you’re singing the same tune next week.”
Hmmmmmm, something I’d forgotten? Steve must have seen the questioning expression my face.
Duh! Silly me, how could I have forgotten? Next week Steve had tickets to a show downtown and we’d already reserved Marissa, one of our favorite babysitters. Having just turned eighteen a few weeks ago, she was the oldest of the ones we normally employed. My horny husband been wanting to fuck her for ages and now that she was finally “legal” I had no doubt she’d be staying overnight next week as well.
“Well, you can have your teen sluts so long as I get my older married men,” I said only half-jokingly. Actually it was this very sort of give and take that made our marriage as solid as it was. We each had our vices and so long as we didn’t go overboard or interfere with the other we each allowed the other to indulge freely.
For the next few minutes we each just shut up and just enjoyed kissing and holding each other. God I loved him so much! His arms around me felt so strong and the feel of his now fully-swollen erection under me made me feel sexy and desirable. It’s really amazing when you think about it… how the college jock asked out the little incoming freshman who fell madly in love with him, gave him her virginity and felt the tragic loss when just six months later he moved away, never to return – or so she thought. And then how out of the blue he reentered her life and they were engaged and finally she married him, just as she’d dreamed she would so many years before. Yes, most everything I’d hoped for back when I was barely eighteen had come true – and so much more. Marrying my soul mate, having his children, and pleasing him in every way I could.
Yes, I enjoy going out with other men but that doesn’t in any way reflect on our marriage or my love for my husband. Like I could never love the man I’ll be sleeping with tonight in even the remotest the same way I love my husband. In the morning I’ll leave him and return to my true love, my only love. Yes, I plan to enjoy myself and the feeling I’ll get knowing he wants me so badly will surely be indescribable. But that’s all it will be – personal satisfaction and sexual gratitude, not love. The only man I love that way is the one on whose lap I was now sitting.
“Soooooo, feelin’ horny?”
I grinned… such a silly question. Like duh! When wasn’t I?
“Well, it HAS been a long time you know,” I reminded him, “Hey… you’re not getting jealous on me now, are you?”
Steve pretended to be taken aback by my question answering, “What, ME jealous? Let’s see… my beautiful wife is about to go out on a date with a man maybe 25 years older than she is. Then she’ll probably go with him to his house where she’ll spend the night in bed with him not to mention having sex while she’s there who celtabet yeni giriş knows how many times. Hmmmmmm, I guess there’s nothing to be jealous about in THAT scenario!”
We both laughed as I knew he was just teasing me. If there was one thing my husband does NOT have is a jealous bone in his body. I knew in reality things were just the opposite in that it turned him on knowing what I would be doing this evening. Not so much by what I was doing as it was knowing that when all was said and done, HE was the one I loved and would return to spend my life with. It was like the more other men wanted me the more it turned him on, almost as if he owned me. Sort of like the guy who buys the expensive sports car just so he can show off for other people. My husband seemed to be enjoying his teasing me and I have to say, the more he did the hornier I WAS becoming!
“Close your eyes,” he commanded me and I instantly obeyed. “Ok now, just imagine this… a few shorts hours from now and you’ll be sucking his hard dick, your pussy soaking wet as you crave his prick inside of you. And then… finally… he’s inside of you, filling you up with his dick and finally his sperm. Imagine it Kelly… imagine him fucking you.”
Indeed I could imagine it and my pussy was tingling with anticipation. If it hadn’t been for the knock on the door I’m not so sure I wouldn’t have just jumped my husband and said the heck with the plans I’d made.
“He’s here,” I barely was able to get out with my heart beating so fast, “Go to the bedroom, I don’t want him to see you.”
It wasn’t I was ashamed of my husband – quite the opposite in fact. It was just I didn’t want to destroy the fantasy that my date had undoubtedly made up for me and the upcoming evening as I was pretty sure it didn’t include my husband!
Steve gave me one last kiss and a final smack on my bottom as he left the room, leaving me horny and alone to answer the door. I answered the door and opened it to find him standing there waiting for me patiently.
“Good evening Kelly,” he greeted me formally with a smile. He had one hand behind his back which he then brought around to the front, revealing a single yellow rose – my favorite color for a rose.
“Awwwwww, how sweet!” I said.
“I was going to pin it on you but now I’m not so sure exactly how to do that,” he chuckled, “My wife tells me I always get it wrong and besides, it’s not like your dress is exactly loose anywhere.”
“It’s OK, just go for it,” I encouraged him.
He reached his fingers in behind the material right at the top of where my left boob swelled. Working carefully so as not to stick me, he somehow managed to shut the clasp of the safety pin and affix the rose stem to my dress. Standing back, he looked at me admiringly although I think his eyes more on my boobs than they were on the flower.
“You look absolutely stunning,” he complimented me. Not a bad start as what girl doesn’t like to be told she looks good?
“Now that THAT’s done, shall we go?” he asked, extending his hand. With that he led me to his car like a gentleman. As I sat down, I deliberately did NOT hold my dress down so it rode up almost to my waist as I twisted to get my feet inside, revealing several inches of my bare upper legs from where the hose ended and the retreating hemline started. From the way his eyes were staring, he got to take in a pretty good view before he shut the door.
Our short drive through the tunnel and over the bridge leading to downtown Pittsburgh was filled with small talk, nothing I even hardly remember it was so trivial but I almost got to where I was ready to warn him to watch the road after narrowly missing an oncoming car as he stared at my exposed legs and boobs. My sensitive nipples were still hard from my husband’s teasing, poking through the thin material of my dress like it wasn’t there.
As we neared the restaurant, he turned to me and smiled saying, “I’ve been SO looking forward to this evening… you have no idea!” Although I wasn’t about to say anything, I like to think that actually I DID have a pretty good idea. True, as a girl I can never fully comprehend how a man feels when he wants a woman but I CAN discern his reactions and imagine how he feels about me. Judging from the obvious bulge in his crotch, it didn’t take a rocket scientist to have at least SOME idea!
It wasn’t long before we pulled up to the front of the restaurant where the valet opened my door and his eyes immediately dropped down to my lap. I pretended not to notice as I stepped out of the car and paused for just a moment before finally tugging my hem back down, just long enough to give him a good look.
“You’re such a tease, aren’t you?” he whispered in my ear after coming around the car and taking my arm.
Our reservations were confirmed and in this sort of place you don’t wait around for your table to be cleared so we were seated immediately.
“Do you mind if I order?” he asked, picking up the wine list.
Normally I don’t drink a whole lot and having been pregnant celtabet güvenilirmi for most of the past year I haven’t been drinking at all so I was open to suggestion. Besides, I had a feeling he wasn’t going to be ordering anything cheap so why not indulge?
During the course of the entire meal we spoke about our jobs, families, and pretty much the normal stuff any two people would talk about on a date. Religion and politics were carefully avoided but more out of politeness than any other reason. At times it seemed like he seemed more interested in my husband than me, especially when it came to our marriage, kids and the things we enjoyed doing as a couple. Of all the range of topics we discussed, interestingly neither of us made a single reference to sex, at least in terms of having sex with each other. Yes, I did answer some of his questions about my past and certain events most guys seem to like to hear about – losing my virginity for example. There’s nothing regarding my sexual history that I’m ashamed of so it didn’t bother me no matter what he questioned me about. Still, not one word about US having sex or what would happen after dinner. Then again, was it really necessary to talk about it?
Just because we didn’t talk about sex between us didn’t mean it wasn’t part of the conversation – just not verbally it turns out. We were seated in a line of semicircle booths such that you couldn’t see the people next to you and with us both scooted towards the back half of the table the tablecloth pretty much concealed everything below our waists. It wasn’t like a private room yet at the same time was surprisingly intimate given the size of the restaurant and the number of people. Couples and families would walk by us from time to time as they went to and from their tables so it wasn’t like we were shut off from everyone. It’s what they couldn’t see that counted…
“You know, I’m a sucker for a woman in sexy hose,” he said softly as he took a sip of wine while we waited for our salads, “And with your legs?… my god but they make yours look incredible!”
“I picked them out just for you.”
He grinned and actually I was telling the truth. I HAD picked them out just the day before and I HAD bought them with this date specifically in mind. It’s not like most men don’t like a women in thigh-high hose.
“And that dress… it’s the perfect length.”
I squirmed a little, looking down to where it had once again ridden up pretty much to my butt and was all but exposing my thong underneath.
“You know, some people might say it’s a little short. Your wife for instance?”
He snorted, “No such thing as a dress that’s TOO short. And let’s leave my wife out of it, OK?”
“My feelings exactly,” I agreed smiling naughtily at him, taking note of his last comment as well.
With that he placed his hand in top my leg about midway between my knee and hip, right at the top of my hose such that part of his hand was on my bare leg and part was over the lace stretch top. Lightly rubbing his hand on me, he sighed softly.
“Decisions, decisions… I love the feel of sexy lingerie yet at the same time your skin is so soft and smooth it’s almost a crime to cover it.”
“You know… I can take them off if you’d rather,” I offered.
He shook his head as his hand moved a little up my leg. “Noooooo, they are WAY too sexy and besides…” he paused as his hand moved more between my legs than over them such that his little finger was now pressed against my crotch as his hand gripped my inner thigh before continuing, “It’s not like they’re in the way.”
Just then the waiter came with our salads and refilled our wine glasses. Throughout it all the hand between my legs never made the slightest move to leave and if anything, he pressed up against my warm pussy all the more, moving his little finger against my wet slit as he did. The waiter, a pro in every way, had to have noticed but he didn’t make any mention of what was happening practically right in front of him.
As we ate our salads and talked about my teaching career, I could feel his finger moving between my legs, probing and searching for a way around my thong. It actually tickled me more than anything and several times I found myself giggling like a little girl. With our salads finished and now waiting for dinner, I told him I needed to use the lady’s room and excused myself. Sliding around the booth I felt my dress ride up behind my butt such that when I stood up I practically mooned this older couple making their way to their table. Although the husband certainly didn’t seem to mind, his wife’s eyes could’ve bored holes through me as she frowned and coughed to signal her disapproval. If she thought that she was making me feel bad for what I’d done the she certainly didn’t know sluts like me very well. The only thing better than a husband staring at my exposed butt was his wife disapproving of him doing it.
I excused myself, smiling at the older man and quickly licking my lips. Oh well, so much for that! Making my way to the lady’s room, I entered and started to rummage through my purse as I stood in front of the sink and mirror. The room was empty but not for long as I heard the door open and then who should I see in the mirror coming up behind me was none other than my friendly (NOT) wife whose husband I’d just flashed.
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