Dinner and Dessert

We hadn't been able to get a sitter to watch the kids on Friday or Saturday as usual, but then one of them called Sunday afternoon to say she had the evening free. We jumped at the opportunity. My wife likes to dress up sexy and flaunt her body for me. I knew tonight would be no different when she walked out of the closet with a skirt in each hand, "Long and elegant or short and..." she hesitated briefly, "slutty." Mmmmm, this was going to be a good night. Since she had both hands full she couldn't stop me from fondling a breast with one hand and her ass with the other while I kissed her. "I'll take short and slutty." Although the response that came out of her mouth was a mere "okay," her expression betrayed the coals warming up.

When she finished dressing and came out to leave she was gorgeous as usual. Her hair, makeup, jewelry, and blouse said "beautiful", but the undertone from the short skirt and the seriously hot heels she had picked to wear with it said "erotic", if not something much baser than that. Even though she's twice their age, the baby sitters always look at her with envy. They hope that one day they'll look that good, and their husband looks at them with the hunger they see in my eyes when my wife comes out to play.

The half hour drive to the restaurant was consumed with the usual banter parents have when they escape their children for a while - most of it mundane, but things that have to be conveyed or agreed upon. I had selected a restaurant further away than necessary to let her clear these thoughts out of her head. Like all women I've known, until she lets go of them she can't fully relax and enjoy herself. Knowing her mood and mine, I even drove a little slower than usual to give her extra time. As we got close to our destination the conversation slowed, and I was rewarded for my foresight with a great leg show as her skirt rode up.

We arrived at the restaurant to find it even more sparsely populated than usual. Sunday nights just aren't as popular for going out as Fridays and Saturdays. But I may be taking her out on Sundays more often after this night. The meal was good and the conversation typical, but laced with flirting from time to time. The unusual privacy was very nice. She knows how to put on a subtle but arousing show with her red lips and nails, all the while seeming not to notice she's turning me on. Tonight it was a little less subtle than usual.

When we finished with dinner and had paid the bill, she looked at her watch. "If we leave now we'll get home before the kids are asleep. What would you like to do?"

"Well, obviously we can't have that."

"Obviously."

"You could masturbate for me."

After slightly choking on her drink, "oh" was all she could manage in response, somewhat stunned by my suggestion. Then she managed a deeper "oh," had a quick glance around, and finished with "here?"

"Yes, right here." I said. "I've fantasized about it several times, but we never had enough privacy before. Tonight, though, the only person who could catch you would be the waitress."

I could see the wheels turning in her mind. Although she'd be mortified if she got caught, it would be a deliciously naughty thrill if she didn't. When she glanced at me she could see how much it would turn me on to watch. She was getting aroused now. As she considered the act itself she noted that I was facing the room, but since she was facing me she wouldn't be able to see anyone approaching. I'm sure she considered asking me to trade places with her, but then realized that I would be more aware of our surroundings than she would if she went through with it. I knew she was close to agreeing, so I asked her "Panties on or off?" She blushed deeply. Although she had taken her panties off and given them to me at dinner before, in this very restaurant, I guess that was a little too far in this situation.

"Definitely on."

I had thought she would want them off so she wouldn't have to ride home with wet panties. Then it occurred to me she might just take them off after. Ooh, that might be even better. Although the thought of her bare ass caressing the leather seat as she polished it with her delicious cream really turned me on, I figured I'd let her play it her way.

"Okay."

"You WILL tell me if anyone walks up, right?"

"Of course." I don't know how far she believed that, but I meant it honestly. She was still a little hesitant, so I followed a moment later with, "Come on, baby, cum for me."

She had another glance around the room behind her, and then picked up her napkin. Her hand went below the table and her hips slid forward. She was nervous, but excited.

As I gawked I said, "It's too bad I can't get a look under the table."

"Yeah, too bad."

She wasn't very talkative now, which was a good sign. I knew her pretty legs were spread and her hand was up her skirt. Probably by now it was inside her panties, but this time I couldn't watch the intimate details, only her face. She began to relax, then began to get into it. She glanced around furtively a couple more times, but she was obviously enjoying herself. Pretty soon her eyes closed, then her full breasts began to sway slightly as she moved. I rubbed myself through my pants, enjoying the show and wishing I could unzip and join her.

Soon she was getting very close, I could tell. And of course that's when the waitress decided to approach. I really didn't want her to catch my wife, but there was the possibility she wouldn't come to our table, stopping instead at the cash register two tables away behind my wife. I almost panicked and told my wife to stop, but she was almost there. She was right on the cusp. If I stopped her now it would take a very long time to get close again. That would not only spoil this moment, but most likely the whole night. I was so relieved when the waitress did indeed stop at the cash register. Any moment my wife was going to orgasm, and I suspected quite hard. Her head was tilted back, her eyes closed, her breasts jiggling furiously now in time with her stroking. My concern shifted to whether the waitress would hear her, because there was no stopping her now. My wife's breathing caught, her eyes flew open and she looked straight into my eyes as her orgasm hit her. She moaned, but not quite loud enough to attract the waitress's attention. As her orgasm subsided I saw the waitress walk away in my peripheral vision. Whew, that was so close!

As she calmed down I asked, "Can I have a taste?"

"Sure," she said, smiling broadly now, "have some dessert."

She dipped her index and middle fingers deeply and held them out to me across the table. Her red nails weren't the only part glistening. I sucked them clean, thoroughly enjoying her scent and taste. She straightened her skirt, then stood up and kissed me, rubbing my exceptionally hard cock under the table. Then she turned and walked - no, not just walked... she proudly strutted - to the restroom. As I watched her hips sway I thought, "Wow, what a woman."

When we got back out to the car, I opened her door as usual. She knows I do it not only to be chivalrous, but also in the hope of getting a glimpse up her skirt. She didn't disappoint me. She was wearing a satisfied grin as she looked up at me, but no longer any panties.