Average Wifey Files #20

Michael's eyes may have been pointing in the direction of the menu, but his mind's eye was riveted on that most recent email pic he had tucked in his shirt pocket. The close-up of that pussy was burned into his short-term memory. His right finger absent-mindedly moved down the menu with no fanfare. But it was his left finger snaking under my panties and between my folds that filled our booth with naughty and unseen energy.

My eyes were also scanning the menu, or at least appeared to be. But in reality, my mind was racing with the thrill of a plan coming together and a fingering that was primal and daring.

Even as we ordered, Michael never pulled his fingers out of me. I was impaled by not one, but two of his fingers, bound to my seat as I spread my legs and invited him to stay.

When Jen's preplanned called finally rang on my phone, I was almost ready to cum. I fumbled through my purse and grabbed my phone, Michael giving me a look mixed with unspoken lust and permission to take the call.

"Hi Jen. Did you find them?" As I pretended to be asking about the shoes, Michael knew none the better. As his fingers enjoyed naughty access, his eyes got even more greedy and angled to see if my nipples might be flashing. His eyes were not disappointed.

I continued with the pretense of our phone call. "Ok, great. Well enjoy them. What's that?"

I looked at Michael as I acted as if I were listening to Jen's question in my ear. I silently mouthed to him, 'I l-o-v-e y-o-u.' I clenched my pussy tight to punctuate that thought.

"Oh yes, we are having a GREAT time" I said into the phone. I winked at Michael and then closed my eyes as I spoke in a hush, "a really, great time."

That was the final signal for Jen. After I hung up, I moved my hand to his lap. I knew he was rock hard, but I did not expect the warm moist patch of precum that had soaked through the fabric of his slacks! He was on fire!

Our salads arrived as I ended the phone call with Jen. Both Michael and I ate our salads one handed. His fingers were inside me for so long, I inwardly giggled at the idea that they could even be wrinkled by now, like when you have been in the pool for a while. And I had a firm hold of his cock, applying pressure so that I could actually feel his heartbeat thumping against the palm of my hand.

Then, Jen's final email hit his phone. He played it very well, dealing with the dilemma of wanting to see his latest, naughty, secret missive; but equally enjoying this extremely naughty and interactive fondling we shared under the table.

I could sense that the wheels were turning in his head. How could he eat, finger, and handle his phone? How could he view the email with his typical nonchalant protocol with me right next to him, knowing that it may very well be one that he dare not allow my eyes to see?

Of course, I already knew what that last email said. So, after squeezing him for all he was worth, I approvingly said to him, "You better get that sweetie." He took it as me being forever supportive of him and his job. He had no problem exploiting my perceived support to give him a chance to view what he hoped was yet another naughty pic and message.

I let go of his cock and guided his fingers out of me. The grind of his wet fingers against my inner walls and pussy folds was unbelievable! I could only muffle a moan of pleasure, making him even more turned on. As he figured I didn't notice, he only pretended to take a quick glance at the new email. He then said, "I will be right back. Looks like I need to make a call."

Of course, there was no call he needed to make. What he needed was privacy to view that email! He was literally shaking as he slid out of the booth to "go make his call." The combined effects of those emails and our foreplay had definitely driven him to a level of arousal that was physically overwhelming him.

I wasn't sure where he went to "make his call." But I already knew what was about to greet him in that email. It was the finishing touch in our plan. Jen had sent one last pic of my body, with a glowing view of my pussy. But it was the message she included that would soon be rearranging the pace of dinner plans.

Michael opened the email. His eyes devoured the pic of that body. Breasts gorgeous, "just like Kathleen's" he even thought to himself. That pussy... those hips. Then he read the caption...

"If this was the body with you right now, it would crave yours RIGHT NOW. In the parking lot, against the door of the car or even on the hood. Do it baby... do it to me... do it for me... do it to her."

Michael lustily smiled at his good fortune of choosing the parking spot I had pointed out rather than the one he would have chosen closer to the door. My selling point was "It would be easier for me to get out of the car without flashing the children if we parked in the corner there next to the brick wall."

The plan had amazingly come together. Before Michael had returned to our table, the waitress asked me if we needed anything. I smiled and beckoned her to come closer. "Woman to woman, I have a request."

Her polite, accepting smile supported her statement, "I understand. A Valentine's Day thing, right?"

I giggled and said, "You have no idea how right you are, sweetie!" I drew my breath and then said, "We need either our dinners put on hold for about 30 minutes along with our table here saved for us,,, OR ,,, we need our check for just the salads and we will leave." I gave her a wink that assured her that it was indeed a request spurred by lover's lust and not any dissatisfaction with the food or service. I also asked that she play dumb when my hubby made the request, as if that were the first she had heard of it.

Her eyes glowed as she whispered, "Take your time. Dinner will be served when you two return." Her knowing nod and friendly pat on my shoulder made it feel as if she were in on our plan all along, even though I knew better.

Michael returned and scooted next to me. His face was flushed with the hew of red that was present only when either he was raging mad or super aroused. He wasted no breath or words, with an almost abrupt tone and raw energy, he quietly said to me, "I have to have you NOW."

I coyly questioned back, "Have me?"

He leaned in and breathed a puff of hot lust into my ear that I had not felt for years. It formed two, clear, distinct, sounds. Two syllables. Two words.

"Fuck You."

I blushed. It was not conjured. It was the eruption of a days worth of planning and now an evening of successful execution. My reward was to be taken and passionately made love to by the man I dearly loved, who was aching to pour out an animal like lust all over my body right here and now!

He motioned for the waitress. She was already in motion. As he fumbled to explain his odd request, his flustered words were of course easily interpreted. Jen had been right on the money. He indeed asked for one of two options. Our waitress had it covered, with the added detail he provided of a BIG tip for her accommodating his request.

With a brisk pace that nearly had my skirt flapping in the wind, we made our way out of the restaurant and into the darkness of the parking lot.

I felt my heart racing.

I felt my hubby lusting.

And I inwardly heard a sultry voice saying, "Have a hot fuck, baby." I wasn't sure if it was Jen's voice or that little devil. It really didn't matter. It was happening.

With my skirt up, panties down, and Michael's cock pushing out of his slacks, I felt him bend me over the side of the hood of the car. My legs parted as my feet left the ground. In an instant, he was deep inside of my pussy. The last thing I remember seeing was a heart shaped box of chocolates sitting on the seat of the car while hearing Michael moan in my ear, "You are my Hot Little Fuck."

Hot indeed; perhaps needing to be amended to Hot Little NAUGHTY Fuck.