tagIllustratedA Woman's Journal (Month 11) Valentine

A Woman's Journal (Month 11) Valentine


It seems that in my rush to complete my Journal entry for February I forgot a very important day.

A big thank you to my friend's Tarzan and Jane for sharing their actual experience of this event with me providing me inspiration for this story.

Valentine's Day Monday, Feb. 14, 2011

A few days ago I got together with Ms. Court to ask her advice on how to shock my husband out of his complacency towards our marriage and conservative attitude towards our sex life.

I still am not quite sure what I am trying to accomplish. Am I trying to put new life into my marriage; am I trying to push my new found sexuality into my husband's face; am I trying to salvage something that can't be salvaged because of our children; or, am I just trying to show off.

I am extremely taken by Ms. Court and Mr. Von Elder to the point of wondering if I am ready to move on. I guess you are reading this, aren't you, Mr. Von Elder.

I have found such a new world that stimulates all of me i.e. mentally and physically.

Can I truly continue to exist by walking on both sides of this proverbial fence?

Well this certainly isn't going to get resolved in the near future, so I might as well let anyone who reads my journal know what happened.

I made reservations for my husband and I at a very exclusive restaurant where all of the tables and booths have thick white linen tablecloths and napkins, beautiful bone china and crystal glassware along with actual silverware.

We arrived right on time and were shown to a booth in the back that I had requested. The maitre'd pulled the table away to allow us to slide into the deep beige leather covered seat.

I decided to not dress too fancy as I wanted to wear my shirt dress that buttons from top to bottom as it was perfect for what I had in mind.

Once we were seated our drink order was taken. My husband ordered his usual Scotch and water (always trying to fit the stereotype of a husband in control) and I asked for a glass of pinot, which was served in a beautiful flute wine glass.

The shape of the glass gave me added inspiration for the evening.

We sat and talked for a while and then ordered our meal. By the time it had arrived my husband was on his third drink as I could tell that he was very nervous about spending an evening with me as I have become so unpredictable.

Since I have started showing him my "wild" side he never knows what to expect, which is just perfect for me and I wasn't about to disappoint his apprehension.

As he started to eat, I inconspicuously unbuttoned my lower buttons until the tops of my stockings and blue suspender straps were showing, although I was the only one that knew as my lap was covered by the linen tablecloth.

I continued the unbuttoning process until my entire lap was exposed all of the way to the top of my garter belt.

As I pretended to be focused on my meal, I slowly pushed the tablecloth free of my lap and let the cloth napkin slide to the seat alongside of me.

Now my exposed stockings and beige silk string bikini panties were on full display for my husband and anyone else should he stand in the right place.

To say that I was tingling from my brazen exposure inside such a posh restaurant would be an understatement as my body literally vibrated with sexual tension.

It seems that Mr. Von Elder and/or Ms. Court have taught me well in the erotic arts.

I can still hear the gasp of surprise that issued from my husband's mouth when he noticed my bare lower half. It was so like him to react with such vehemence.

As he tried to stammer out his objection, I teasingly moved my legs wide apart and simultaneously reached over checking his lower meat thermometer for a reading.

Normally he would have pulled my hand away, but I believe my exposure in such a public setting had his mind thoroughly confused.

And to add to my delight, his meat thermometer's mercury was rising.

Isn't it interesting that a man who objects to his wife dressing or acting in a sexual nature has a little brain that things otherwise. Although in this case, his little brain wasn't so little.

As the waiter approached to investigate my husband's reaction, (Ms. Court had told me that they are very attentive to every little thing) I took a good hold of my husband's baguette and gave it a good pull. He couldn't help himself as he let out a little yelp.

As the waiter arrived I very causally moved my napkin back onto my lap keeping a strong grip on my husband waiting with a very smug smile as to what his answer might be to the waiter's inquiry of "Is anything wrong, Sir?"

His response was something like, "uh, uh, I, uh, Okay, um, No."

What a wonderful way to make my husband speechless. Maybe I learned something this evening.

The waiter's departure matched the departure of my napkin from my lap which I purposely dropped on the floor along side my husband's shoes.

I excused myself leaning over my husband to retrieve my napkin while at the same time used both of my hands to free his pesky erection from his pants. Zip! Pull! Plop!

With a renewed hold on my very welcome dinner guest as I didn't want him to disappear back under cover, I proceeded to down my glass of wine in one gulp while simultaneously stroking the large beef tenderloin hidden under the tablecloth.

My husband wanted to object however the focus of our waiter was clearly on his facial expressions and I noticed that a woman at a table opposite us was now focused on me.

I couldn't blame her for being puzzled as I would have wanted to watch if I were her too.

It was so perfect to physically stimulate my husband underneath the table while he tried to maintain his composure. I noticed that he never told me to stop it nor did he try to pull my hand away. So what does that tell me about his prim and proper attitude?

I gripped him right under his fully formed mushroom and with my thumb began to rub the under ridge of his throbbing bread stick.

He very ineffectively stifled a low guttural moan as my thumb rubbed his gooey dribbles all around the head.

I knew that he was very close to popping his cork so I casually took my fluted wine glass from the table top and held it in place over his soon to pop pastry.

The woman across from us noticed my movement of the wine glass keeping her attention on me with a renewed interest.

As my husband's entire body tensed in that delectable anticipatory clenching that precedes any orgasm, I gripped him tightly until I could actually feel his Éclair fill with cream and then I released my hold and felt the first violent ejaculation partially fill my wine glass. As another spasm followed by another spasm and another shook him in his seat, his eyes disappeared into his head while one of his hands applied a death grip on my upper thigh.

My wine glass took on a very pleasant warmth as it filled with my husband's au jus.

Our waiter didn't know what to think as I am sure he was having difficulty understanding my husband's body language, although it could very well have been an orgasm of culinary delights so to speak.

I am quite sure that my female spectator was fully aware of what was going on.

As I wrapped my husband's organ in his napkin, I brought my now half full wine glass back from under the table with the pinot replaced by an ecru colored opaque liquid.

My lady friend's eyes opened wide in amazement as I had now confirmed her suspicions of our under the table negotiations.

My husband flushed crimson when he saw the wine glass containing his most recent emissions of crème de la creme.

The waiter picked this perfect time to come to our table asking whether we wanted desert and/or coffee.

I asked for a piece of their famous chocolate torte letting him know that I had brought my own special topping by nodding at my wine glass.

His reaction was every bit as wonderful as the woman's and my husband's.

After all, what kind of response could he have to a half full glass of warm spunk?

The torte was delivered along with full cups of a fabulous coffee blend.

I ceremoniously poured my husband's joy juice on my torte and delicately devoured it one tiny piece at a time while my audience of three watched every bite.

I certainly wouldn't recommend this sort of flavoring, but isn't it often more about the presentation with many culinary dishes.

However I realized that I now had a craving for outrageous behavior.

I paid our bill and purposely slid out from behind the table with my dress still unbuttoned. It is sad to say that only the waiter and woman opposite us noticed my condition, although it still provided me with an element of delight when my husband attempted to stand in front of me to lessen my exposure.

What a gentleman!!

We gathered our coats from the coat room which I placed over my shoulders without putting my arms through the arm holes. I still had ideas as to how the evening should play out.

Once our car was brought to us by the parking attendant I slid into the passenger seat giving the, hopefully, lucky gentleman a good look at my beige silk covered crotch as I settled into the seat.

My husband continued with his thoroughly rattled demeanor, which was about to get rattled further.

Once we were on our way, I unbuttoned my dress to the top of my garter belt and proceeded to move my right hand up the inside of my legs until it cupped the delicate "V" formed by the joining of my legs to my lower body.

I opened my legs and rubbed my index finger firmly between my now bulging lower lips.

At the same time I turned on our inside map light and directed its beam to shine directly on my busy handiwork.

Openly masturbating to a male audience has become so common place for me lately, it seemed a shame to not have my husband witness my expertise in this newly developed erotic art form.

A few more up and down movements across my awakening libido brought my aching for attention female nub to the forefront and I wasn't about to ignore it's craving.

As I extended my left hand along my husband's inner thigh to determine whether his stick shift could make two appearances in the same evening, I opened my legs wide and slipped my right hand down the front of my silk panties.

It was time to get serious about my performance.

I easily found the slick and slippery little kernel and applied a finger to either side of it. My moan of ecstasy surprised even me as I moved my crotch forward in the seat allowing my hand full access.

It is always such an interesting phenomenon to me as I find myself lost in the throes of pre orgasmic glory that I no longer care about proper conduct or decorum. Although it seems that my cares for proper have long evaporated. My singular purpose was to achieve orgasm.

I say this only because I vaguely remember a man in a pick up truck following closely alongside of us as he had an unobstructed view of my erogenous stimulation.

My fingers worked feverishly to the sound of a wet smacking as I approached my goal of orgasmic achievement.

As my left hand gripped my husband's stiff reaction to my performance, my entire body stiffened as well and with my eyes rolled up into my head I released a low guttural moan of raw pleasure allowing the first wave of delectable convulsions to envelope me.

A truck horn honked loudly outside my window as my legs thrashed back and forth closing tightly on my hand fully immersed inside the fabric of my string bikini panties.

The resulting orgasm was incredible, however, instead of it clearing my head and making me want to quickly cover myself, I surprisingly found that I required more unbridled pleasures.

I think that I may be becoming a little tart...............in a good sense of the word.

As we pulled up to the next set of lights waiting the appearance of a green "Go" I stripped off my coat and dress completely allowing my truck driving voyeur additional visual access to my unashamed erotic performance.

I quickly unclipped the garter snaps from my stockings and undid the clasp of my garter belt, removing it and throwing it into the back seat.

The clasp on the back was starting to dig into my back and I wanted to be completely comfortable for my next performance.

I now sat in our front car seat in just my beige silk triangle bra and string bikini panties with a map light displaying my exposure.

Another chorus of truck horn ensued as I reached across my husband's lap and undid his zipper for the second time in the evening.

The light turned green as I freed the captive one eye from its cloth confines allowing it to straighten itself to its second surprisingly impressive height of the evening.

Me thinks the man dost enjoy the carnal pleasures.

(My very weak attempt at Shakespearian prose)

Now what does that tell me about my husband's conservative attitude?

I climbed onto the seat with my lit bottom facing the window and all of my other attention facing my husband's lap.

I may have heard a verbal objection to my actions, but once my lips formed solidly on his helmet, any and all objections were replaced by sounds of pure sexual pleasure.

I believe that the truck driver was gone, but my hovering barely covered bottom received ample attention as car horns now replaced the truck horn.

My husband was smart enough to pull over to the curb while I emptied him for the second time this evening.

Once everything was put away, I turned off the map light and we drove home.

I may never know whether the crimson color in his cheeks was from the sexual activity or his own embarrassment for enthusiastically participating in my evening of sexual exhibitionism.

Either way, I sure enjoyed dinner and the after dinner aperitif.

Happy Valentine's Day to me!

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