Grant & Sandy Pt. 01

Low lamp-posts created distinct, brightly lit circles in the parking lot of my wife's office building. But there was more shadow than light across the paved space. They really should do a better job of illuminating this lot, I thought to myself. After seventeen years together, fourteen of them as husband and wife, I knew Sandy would be a surprisingly tough target for anyone looking to try something, but cataloguing risks and planning mitigating measures was too ingrained a habit for me. Besides, what sort of a husband doesn't have any concern about his wife's safety when he's not around, I rationalized?

The lot was empty, with the exception of one other vehicle, parked directly under a lamp. I saw a figure leaning on the driver's side door, engrossed in his phone. He glanced up, seeing my headlights sweep across the dark pavement as I turned into a spot two lights removed from his own, and turned off my SUV. Average height, solid build. Black slacks and brogues, burgundy open-necked dress shirt, no visible jewelry other than a large-faced watch and a wedding band. Shaved head, coffee coloured skin. Leaning on a black Audi. Not a likely threat. In fact, more likely another husband here to pick up his wife, I concluded. Sandy's firm was good about making sure employees always had a way home that didn't involve getting behind the wheel after cocktail parties and conferences.

But tonight I happened to be close by her office after dinner with a client of mine, and so she was getting dropped by the taxi back at work, rather than stay another twenty minutes in the cab to reach our neighbourhood. Besides, it meant we could pick the kids up at her parents' house together. I left the keys in the ignition, rolled the windows down, and turned the volume up a little on the hockey game as I waited. Now that I was parked, the other fellow returned his attention to the phone in his hand.

"Matthews gathering speed through the neutral zone...cuts to the inside - oh, what a move! - goes to his left - he scores!"

"YES" I cheered, and pounded a fist to the wheel of my car. The horn blared briefly, and the gent with the Audi looked up sharply. "Sorry, Leafs game," I raised my voice to carry the distance between us and apologized with a grin. He pocketed his phone and strode my way.

"I always find it weird cheering for hockey when it's almost summer and the weather's like this," he offered as he approached my open window. "But I'm glad they're still in it," he added quickly. "What's the score?"

"Two nothing in the first. Matthews has both, apparently. I just turned it on, so I missed the first fifteen minutes."

"Yeah, he's a hell of a player."

I turned up the radio a bit more, and we listened to the play-by-play in companionable silence until the buzzer sounded the end of the first period. "Not a bad start for the Buds - better than last game," I opined as I opened my door and stepped out to stretch my legs.

"Absolutely. I'm Donovan, by the way." He extended a hand with the introduction.

"Grant," I replied as we shook. He had a firm grip, but wasn't one of those guys who tries to crush your hand. "I'm just waiting for my wife to get dropped off."

"Yeah, I figured," Donovan replied with a chuckle. "Insurance conference?" I nodded. "My wife must work with yours," he finished.

The sound of another car pulling into the parking lot interrupted our conversation, and we turned to see a taxi pulling up to the curb in front of the office. A couple of giggling ladies stepped out of the back door a few seconds later, and the cab pulled away. Almost immediately, they both doubled up with laughter at some comment we couldn't hear, hands on knees as they tried to catch their breath. Sandy reached out a hand to steady herself on her companion's shoulder as she stumbled a little in her peekaboo heels. So, it had been that sort of a night.

"Yours?" I asked Donovan with a tip of my head towards the women.

"Yeah," he said with a smile and small shake of his head. "Looks like they had a good time," he added as we started walking towards them.

"Hey babe," I called to Sandy as we got closer. Both wives stood up straight, finally taking notice of us approaching. I felt a brief flash of annoyance that she hadn't scoped us before getting out of the cab.

The smile on Sandy's pixie face broadened as she looked at me, and her blue eyes shone. Her blonde hair was pulled back and high with a couple of those engraved, polished chopsticks whose structural properties were incomprehensible to me. She was wearing a form-fitting teal dress cut just above the knee. It was a favourite of mine. The design featured a military-style high collar which split into a dipping neckline that was sexy as hell without being inappropriate. It bunched in the right places and stretched in the right places, and it showed off a lithe fitness underneath that made her the envy of women a decade younger. I melted a little. God, she's beautiful. I'd been of that same opinion since the night we first met, but it still caught me off guard on a regular basis, the sudden shock of emotion cutting through our everyday familiarity. Sandy stepped towards me and reached out for a hug. I could feel every smooth muscle and curve in her back under the thin material of her dress. It clung to her in the unseasonable heat of the evening, and started to create some unexpected heat for me too. Something about her when she was tipsy just radiated sexiness to me. She tilted her head back for a brief kiss, and her breath had a hint of whiskey on it, which got my spidey-sense tingling. Insurance mixers were the exclusive domain of chardonnays and merlots, with a smattering of Stella Artois for the guys wanting to butch up their image a bit. What would get Sandy to opt for whiskey at an industry evening? I put the question to one side, and listened to her as she released me and stepped back to introduce her colleague.

"Hon, this is Dani. She works on Christine's team with Tim and Philip - you remember them from the Christmas party?" I remembered Tim and Phillip: two guys just out of university who were still acting like kids with drinking permits rather than adults. They'd gotten sloppy drunk and more than a little obnoxious at the holiday social function, and I was quite frankly surprised Christine still had them on her team. I nodded and smiled at Dani, reaching out to shake her hand. She had to pull her arm out from around Donovan's waist to reciprocate.

"Pleasure to meet you, I'm Grant," I said. Dani's hand was small, but strong in my brief grip. She was petite and on the pale side like Sandy, but with noticeably larger breasts straining slightly against the sheer fabric of her white blouse, and slightly fuller hips rounding out her high-waisted, charcoal grey pencil skirt. Her large blue eyes crinkled cutely at the corners behind ruby-red eyeglasses, framed by long dark hair with bangs, as she smiled at me, cheeks dimpling attractively. I noted a tiny red stone in an understated nose stud, and realized that glasses, stud, earrings and heels were all coordinated in the same shade of red against the black and white sobriety of her work attire. Interesting.

Dani started to introduce Donovan, but he interrupted her. "Grant and I are already old buddies. We listened to the game together, had a few beers here in the parking lot, and set up a barbeque together for next weekend," he deadpanned. I felt Sandy's fingers hook into my back belt-loop as she moved her hand to my waist.

Dani slapped playfully at his arm and giggled. "We weren't that late, you goof," she chuckled.

"You two look like you had a good time," Donovan offered. The two ladies instantly locked eyes at his comment, and a moment later cracked up laughing again. Donovan and I shared a bemused grin.

"It was a bit of a mess," Sandy confessed. "One of the underwriters showed up already blitzed, and tried to hit on Dani in line at the buffet. Christine and I were a couple of places back, and Christine was going to step in when 'the twins' barrelled in to the rescue." Dani quietly translated for Donovan that Sandy meant Tim and Phillip. "They'd also had a few - as usual - and when they got in this guy's face, he stumbled back into the table and brought the whole fucking buffet down." Donovan's eyes went wide, darting between his giggling wife and mine. "Poor Christine looked like she didn't know whether to congratulate them or kill them. This asshole is slipping all over a full tray of chicken in cream sauce on the floor as he tries to get up, the boys are standing over him yelling, security comes running over..."

"It was a complete shit-show," Dani finished. The casual profanity the two ladies were sharing told me they'd connected quickly, as Sandy was generally more conservative in her language with coworkers.

"Anyhow, I grabbed Dani and pulled her away, and then we figured it was time to get out of there, so we found a bar across the street from the conference centre and settled into a booth there. Christine joined us once the mess got sorted out, but she's stressed about how to handle this at work on Monday. She had a couple of drinks with us and then went home. The bartender heard what happened, and he was great - it wasn't crazy busy, but he didn't let anyone come near us all night. I found out that Dani and I both like Woodford Reserve, so it turned out to be a lot of fun." Sandy smiled and reached out to briefly squeeze the younger lady's arm.

"You okay?" Donovan asked his wife.

"I'm fine," she replied. "I was a bit surprised when the guy first started talking that way to me, but you know I can handle myself," Dani told Donovan. "Then Tim and Philip come charging in..." Dani choked out the words as she and Sandy fell into another fit of laughter, watching the scene again in their own minds.

"Started talking to you how?" Donovan almost growled, his eyebrows coming together in concern.

"Oh, D, I'm fine. It's nothing I haven't heard before, and nothing you need to get upset about. You know that. He's probably out of a job, so don't go pounding on him and getting yourself into trouble. It's not worth it." Dani took the sting out of her words with a brilliant smile as she put her hand on her husband's chest. "Besides," and another giggle escaped her, "my knights in shining armour showed up before I had to do anything." I could feel Sandy shaking with silent laughter beside me.

"Those bozos were probably just pissed off someone else was moving in on you before they'd worked up the nerve," Donovan said with a shake of his head.

Both ladies started to protest over each other, with Sandy finally winning out. "Oh Donovan, no. They think they're her big brothers. You made quite the impression on them at the Christmas party, and they honestly think they've got your back. Yours too, by the way," Sandy added, turning to look at me. "They have a bit of a man-crush on you guys. They're just boys trying to figure out how to be 'the guy.' Good careers, good wives, y'know. You two have it, and they know it."

I looked up from my wife's face to Donovan's, and saw that he found that as surprising as I did. "Who knew we were livin' the dream, eh?" I joked, and we both shared a chuckle as I got a punch in the arm from my love.

Dani slipped sideways for a moment, and her husband steadied her. "Time for you to take me home and put me to bed, baby," Dani said with a mischievous grin.

"That makes two of us," added my wife. The girls hugged, the guys shook hands again, and we all turned to walk back across the parking lot as we said our goodbyes.

After helping my wife up into the passenger seat, I walked around and belted into the driver's side. The other couple's sedan pulled out in front of us, and I followed them to the traffic lights leading to the street.

"Oh my god, she's actually doing it!" my wife exclaimed as we sat behind the Audi at the lights. What? What is she talking about? I scanned the car ahead of us, and suddenly understood what was wrong with the picture, as the silhouette of Dani's head suddenly appeared, nuzzled her husband ear, then disappeared again.

"She told you she was going to go down on her husband in the car?" I asked, perhaps a little more huskily than I'd intended. The light turned green and our cars pulled forward as Sandy replied.

"Yeah, she did. We were coming back in the cab, and she admitted that all the attention she'd gotten from everyone tonight - Tim and Phillip, and then the bartender being so protective, and even the fact that the jerk at the party wanted her had her all worked up to see Donovan. She told me she probably couldn't wait to get home before she started on him," Sandy finished, with a note of naughty intrigue in her voice.

Her hand gripped my leg as we watched Donovan's head roll back against the headrest for a moment as he drove. "That is so hot," my wife breathed, surprising me. She normally wasn't one to get turned on by watching other people.

"Good for her," I replied, trying to keep control of my voice. I was growing very hard, very quickly, with Sandy's fingernails digging gently into my thigh. "We haven't done that since university," I added. I could feel Sandy turn to look at me. "Not complaining," I protested, feeling her intense gaze more than seeing it as I kept my eyes forward. "Not complaining at all. I just think that confidence is very sexy," I finished, caught in strange territory.

A moment later, we caught up to the other couple at another stop light. It turned green, and after a brief pause where Donovan obviously came back to the world outside of his wife's mouth, our vehicles pulled into the intersection and turned left onto a four-lane thoroughfare. Sandy and I lost sight of the other couple's outlines as we passed under streetlights and fell a bit further back. I could still feel her staring at me, and hoped she was horny and not annoyed. After all this time, I still couldn't always predict her reactions. Suddenly her hand moved slowly, but steadily up my leg, until I felt her grasp me through my slacks. I gasped, and I think she did too. I didn't want to break whatever spell had come over her, and kept my eyes on the road and the car in front of us.

"Hmm. It sure sounded like a complaint" Sandy purred as her hand worked its magic. Suddenly she leaned across the centre arm rest and nuzzled my ear with her nose, lips closing around my earlobe, tongue squirming down to my neck all too briefly. "Perhaps I've been a little negligent in that regard," she said coquettishly as she retreated from my tingling neck. "It has been a long time, hasn't it?" And then I heard her seatbelt buckle click, and both her hands were in my lap, struggling to free my throbbing cock from my pants.

My heart was racing as I took the situation in, and started my internal monologue. Manage this, man. No cops around, sparse traffic: I'm not unsafe, and I'm not likely to get arrested. Another sharp jolt of pleasure as her hands wrestled with me. Focus, what's your route, what lane to you need to be in? Don't fuck this up. Another sharp jolt as her mouth engulfed me. My jaw dropped, and everything outside the car disappeared for a moment. Oh my god, that's good. Shit, stay in your lane, Grant. Follow the tail lights in front of you. I glanced briefly down at the back of my wife's head, the magic happening below her gyrating crossed chopsticks and blonde hairdo hidden from view. She's going to hit her head on the steering wheel. Crap. Give her room to work. I reached down with my left hand, and hit the control to slide my seat back until the pedals were just within reach. Sandy's head began to bob rhythmically. Oh my fucking god. Holy shit, holy shit, holy shit.

My field of vision was shrinking as I drove. I was on autopilot, letting deeply ingrained habit take over as most of my brain fired like a sparkler on Canada Day. I stole a glance over the back of my blazing spouse in the passenger seat. She had kicked off her heels, and curled and twisted her body so she had her knees underneath her on the seat, toes pressed against her door. Her dress was stretched impossibly tightly over her perfect ass, so tightly I could see the outline of her thong under the dress. That picture alone nearly made me lose it, and I snapped my head forward again.

Tail lights, fuck! In a split second, I realized that jamming on the brakes would throw my wife's head into the steering wheel, and likely her body to the floor of the passenger compartment. I swerved right into the open lane beside us, breaking smoothly and steadily, and coming to rest beside the car I'd so nearly rear-ended. We were stopped at a large, but empty intersection, waiting for the lights to cycle through as though nothing else was going on.

I looked over to my left and saw Donovan glancing right back at me through his passenger window. We'd been following him and Dani the whole time - I'd completely lost track of that in the wildness of the situation. I suspect I looked just like he did: mouth open in shock and pleasure, with a hint of embarrassment as both of us realized we were in the same predicament.

My attention shifted instantly as my wife's head and hands moved from my lap to my face and neck, her full wet lips urgently meeting mine as our tongues tangled. Why is it that a woman's mouth always feels different on yours when it's just come off your dick? Is it the musky flavour of her saliva, the extra flush of blood in her lips and tongue, or the dizzyingly sexy wantonness of the act? Sandy's hands left my neck, and I felt her arms moving urgently as our lips remained locked together. Then she dove her head in my lap again, and her cooling spit on the head of my cock was brought instantly back to a boil. Her dress was now bunched around her waist, the purple thong beneath pulled slightly off centre, her hips squirming madly as she got herself off with a hand out of sight beneath her.

And that was all I could take.

My ass flexed upwards, my grip whitened around the steering wheel and my face clenched in a rictus of overwhelming pleasure as I emptied my nuts into my wife's unbelievably talented mouth. Long, powerful spurts pulsed from my groin, again and again until I couldn't breathe, until I wondered if they would ever end. My head slammed back into the headrest as the earthquake inside me hit, the tip of my dick so sensitive at that point that the pressure of Sandy's lips around it was almost painful. She kept working me, slowly and gently as the aftershocks rippled through my body, wanting desperately to be done, and equally desperately not to at the same time. I released a breath I didn't realize I'd been holding for far too long, and gasped another one in.

My eyes opened. The world had not, in fact, ended. The light was still red, the intersection still empty. My head turned right to the sight of my wife's succulent ass, which was moving far less urgently than before, then rolled left to the car beside me. Donovan was leaning forward into his steering wheel, eyes wide, looking directly at me. He had to lean forward to see past Dani in the passenger seat, as she was now sitting up and looking right into my face as well. Her ruby glasses were nowhere to be seen, her hair was mussed, and her lipstick was smeared. But with my cock still nestled between Sandy's wet lips, I groaned out loud at the sight of cum dripping off Dani's lips and chin.

Dani pursed her mouth in a silent whistle, her eyebrows pulling together in a naughty frown. Donovan's face split into a massive grin, and he gave me a quick two-fingered salute before leaning back and accelerating into the intersection. Green light, go. Right. Sort yourself out, dipshit. I shook my head and followed.