Tonight

The night air caresses softly against my skin as I lean on the railings of the yacht. I don't know why my husband likes these stuffy affairs, mingling with people who wouldn't know the true meaning of life if it stomped them on the toe. I always feel I have to get away, lest I get sucked into their ignorant black hole. Leaning down, I kick off one shoe and rub at my stockinged foot with a sigh. Just once I wish he'd agree to leave me home, but I know I must be the good token wife. I kick off my other shoe and fold my arms across the smooth wood of the railing, watching the moonlight dance across the waves and ripples of the lake water.

I hear the soft fall of a foot and pray that it is my husband, telling me we're heading in to dock and that we will be home in an hour, safe in our beds. I feel strong arms encircle me, and in their warmth I lean back. Something scratches at my head. This man is wearing a flower in his lapel... but my husband wasn't. Quickly I start to turn, to run, to scream, to anything, but he stops me, tightening his arms and cupping a hand tightly over my mouth. I breath heavily, praying that he doesn't murder me, rape me, praying he'll just let me go. I hear a soft voice, it whispers in my ear, telling me that I am safe so long as I don't struggle. The voice tells me that it has admired me through many a party, always wondering why I look so sad and separated, and that tonight he had to come and make me happy. He promises me I'll like what's in store, which I doubt highly, and that it will be over quick. He asks if I understand, and I slowly nod.

The man's hand slides around to just below sliding across the rough surface of my beaded skirt, then raising to caress my bared midriff. My husband always liked me to wear sexy gowns so he could show me off to the other men. I shiver with the man's touch, both afraid and.. something else. His hand slides slowly upward across my smooth skin till it reaches the top of my dress. His fingers slide underneath it, caressing a nipple, then slide over the top of the fabric. The sensation arouses me, much to my surprise and hatred. His other hand moves down from my mouth, running through my loose hair and across my neck. It massages against my back and lower, pressing against my ass and caressing. He shoves his hips forward, showing me that this is arousing him too.

The hand on my breasts lowered to again caress against my stomach, then slipped under my skirt. I blushed, both at his touch and because I never wear panties when I wear sheer tight skirts to these parties. I hate having a panty line. The man seemed to smile, his hand slipping into the folds between my legs. I heard his soft laughter as he realized how wet I was. His thumb found my clit, rolling it around and I couldn't help but moan. He leaned forward, licking and nibbling at my ear as he continued to massage me. After a moment he slid a finger easily inside me, then another. He pulled them almost out, adding a third, then rammed all three into me. I let out a roaring moan as he started to fingerfuck me. The sensations, I cannot describe. His thumb continued to flick across my clitoris as he delved into me with wild abandon.

All the while he stood there, whispering in my ears. "You sick dirty fuck, I knew you'd love this. I knew you were in need of a good fingering.. just wait until I get an opportunity to get my cock inside of you" The dirty talking just made me all the more aroused as I spread my legs for his fingers.

I quietly prayed that none of the people at the party would come to the deck and see us, but as my orgasm hit, all worries were forgotten. I moaned so loudly that, thinking back, I'm surprised no one did hear. The man pulled his hand from my skirt, smoothing my clothing as I caught my breath. He whispered softly. "I hope to see you at another party, my love."

I nod, composing myself, and turn.. but he's gone. I sigh. He promised quick, but now I'm wishing for more. With a smile, I realize that now I'll be much more eager for the parties my husband so loves.