Table for Two

It may very well have not been the best blowjob I've ever had. A bit too teethy and she was a bit too enthusiastic; bobbing up and down too quickly and not really paying attention to the underside of my knob. But still, my dick was in the mouth of this MILF. Her small hands were on my shaft and as Dad was fond of telling me when I came home after boarding school, "Any job is better than no job at all."

I'm pretty sure this isn't what he had in mind but in my mind any blowjob certainly trumps a wank. Also, it's only the fourth blowjob I've ever received so I shouldn't really compare it so negatively to the furtive Catholic experimentation of the St Saviours girls when our schools met for socials.

The fact that this blowjob is occurring in the storeroom at my workplace isn't lost on me either and the sneaky thrill adds to the intensity of her clumsy ministrations. I work as a waiter at one of the small towns only two restaurants. It puts money in my pocket while I take my gap year.

Yet more remarkable still is the fact that I know this woman whose plump red lips are pleasuring me only as, 'the lady from table seventeen'. I have not seen her before tonight which is odd because I grew up in this small town and know most everybody. She's enjoying a date with a man around the same age and they both wear wedding rings, so I assume he is her husband. It's Valentine's day so the restaurant is booked solid.

To tell the truth I suspect the reason I haven't already blown my load with eighteen-year-old enthusiasm is that I'm afraid my boss, Mrs Kajewski will be mad as fuck at me for disappearing off the floor on such a busy night. There are only four of us waiting table and two of them are 'ring ins' to help on a busy night like this. I'm sure there's gonna be chaos when I get back out there.

"Hurry up." She growls around my knob.

"I..." don't really know what to tell her, "don't cum real easy from blow jobs."

"Fuck." She says releasing my knob from her lips to stand and look up at me. My dick gets cold as the cool air dries her saliva and I'm confused about what she is thinking as her ice blue eyes watch mine. Then before I know what's happening, she reaches beneath her small black dress that's trying really hard to contain what can only be fake breasts and pulls her knickers off.

Turning her back to me, she bends at the waist holding the shelving for support and lifting her left leg to the bottom shelf.

"Be quick now." She hisses so I oblige. Taking her hips in my hands I rub my dick up and down her slippery hairless pussy searching for her entrance, then push it slickly in to the hilt. Groaning she pulls my hips urging me to fuck her. So, fuck I do. Noisily. I'm terrified the whole time that the slippery slapping of my belly against her arse and the quiet moans and gasps she's making are going to bring my boss or the kitchen staff into our risky hideout.

"Hurry up." She bounces back against me faster and faster and I feel my balls tightening.

"Gonna cum soon," I warn her in a whisper.

"In me. Don't pull out, don't get any on me. All inside." She instructs in broken speech that matches my furious rhythm. With a quiet grunt I buck hard against her and hold her still. Impaled on my cock she squeezes her pussy tight around me and I buck again and again shooting thick ropes of cum deep inside her glorious hot depths. Then she is gone.

She simply stands, smiles, gives me a kiss on the cheek, pulls her dress down and leaves the storeroom. Leaving me standing freshly fucked with my dick hanging out staring at her knickers on the floor. I tuck myself away, stuff her knickers in my pocket and searching the storeroom finding a box of napkins and tuck it under my arm as an excuse for my absence.

It felt like half an hour I'd been gone but when I returned to the floor, I found it had been only five minutes. No one had even noticed my absence. The kitchen bell rings so I collect the plates for service. A seafood platter and a fillet mignon for table seventeen. I'm sure I reek of sex.

"You okay Jeffrey?" Mrs Kajewski asks, "You look a bit flushed buddy. Busy tonight huh?

Nodding I leave the kitchen thinking, "You have no fucking idea how busy."

The gentleman at table seventeen smiles at me as I serve his steak and thanks me. Nervously, I place the seafood in front of the woman who casually waves me aside and continues the conversation I had interrupted when I arrived. They reckon you can tell how people treat their partners, by how they treat wait staff. I'm really not sure how her recent treatment of me translates.

Her husband had not even blinked when she asked me earlier if I could show her to the bathroom. As soon as we were out of sight she instructed, "You are going to take me somewhere private and I'm going to suck your cock." How could I not, it's all about customer service right? I just didn't know then that she was also going to take my virginity as well.

And now, she sits opposite her husband eating prawns and full of my cum while I wait tables with her underwear in my pocket. I haven't quite got my head around it still when they leave later. Watching from the bar, I see them settle their bill and I see the shiny dribble of cum smear on her thigh beneath the hem of her dress.

"Fuck me." Is all I can think, "Happy fucking valentine's day Jeff."

Mrs Kajewski pulled me aside at the end of the night and handed me a twenty dollar note.

"Table seventeen. The lady insisted on her husband leaving a tip. You must have done something right, no one leaves tips anymore."

......

My head is literally throbbing, so I drop four ibuprofen in my mouth and wash them down with the cold coffee that's been watching me check emails and hustle accounts all morning. Natalie pokes her pretty young head around the door frame and says she's off to lunch. I'd be lost without her.

"Hey, you want me to pick something up for you?"

"Thanks love."

And then I drown in administration. So much for the illustrious life of a car salesman. I should not complain, no one would listen anyway, but I have a good life. Two kids, a pretty wife, a nice house and a secretary with benefits. I could never replace Natalie. She's intelligent, organised and treats me like a work husband.

At work she takes care of me as a wife would and expects nothing more of me. She has a long-term partner and is apparently very happy in her relationship. Stuff like getting me some lunch today knowing I'm snowed under and stressed. And some days when the mood takes her or when she feels I need it...

She returns an hour later with a salad roll and a juice bar smoothie for me.

"Hey Max, you alright?" She asks putting my lunch on the desk then leaning back against it to look at me.

"Yeah fine Nat, just bullshit for head office and the finance company."

"Doing anything special this evening?" She asks moving to sit on my desk.

Looking up from the mountain of paperwork I ask, "Nope, why?"

"Valentine's day dummy."

"Oh fuck..." I groan and scratch my head.

"Slipped your mind?"

"I'm a shit husband."

"Don't be too hard on yourself. You work really hard and we've been snowed under the last couple of weeks. I'll go and see if I can get you a table somewhere and get the florist to drop off some flowers. What's her favourite?"

"Ah... Roses?" I get her roses usually. Red ones.

A short time later Natalie returns smiling and tells me I have a reservation at one of towns two restaurants, "The Homestead", and that a dozen red roses would make their way to my wife before the end of the day. She's also organised her younger sister to babysit for us this evening.

She flashes her healthy young teeth at me in a smile of triumph and says, "So all we have to do now is get your mind out of those papers and into a romantic mood." Saying that she locks the office door and begins unbuttoning her blouse. I never get tired of her fresh young body; her small breasts and toned legs, her tasty little puss with its curly unkempt bush. As she sheds clothes unceremoniously, I harden in my pants.

Naked and now within arm's reach, I groan as she tugs at my pants. This seems to be our ritual now; her naked and me with my pants around my ankles but otherwise fully dressed. I've never thought to complain about it, and I don't complain now as she lies back on top of the paperwork and offers me her body.

As a gentleman I like to make her come at least once before plunging into her and coming far too quickly because of the naughty excitement of the illicit act. I kiss and suck her toes then move along her thigh to the source of the scent that fills my awareness. Moments later, my face slick with her arousal and my fingers deep inside her she clamps her thighs around my head and rewards me with spastic thrusting as she orgasms on my tongue.

"Oh fuck Maxy, fuck you're good at that."

With a five-inch dick I feel I kind of have to be.

"Kev, never gets me off like that. Oh god, don't move."

When she stops bucking, she releases my head from her vice like thighs and I move between her legs, pulling her calves to my shoulders and slipping my tool inside her sopping furry hole. I grunt and thrust and she oohs and ahhs and far too quickly I spurt inside her twenty year old pussy.

Spent, I lean to kiss her breast and look up to make eye contact with her.

"Best secretary ever." I tell her.

"Best boss with benefits." She smiles back slowly rising from her back. "Now, put that shit away and take an early mark. I'll lock up at five. If anything comes up, I'll call okay?"

"Sure. Thanks kiddo. I'd be lost without you. What are you and Kev up to tonight?" I ask pulling my pants up and watching her gather her clothes.

"Anal." She laughs at my shocked expression, "He's always wanted to try it, but I've always thought it was a bit 'ick' so if he's not a jerk to me tonight I think maybe I'll deliver."

"Okay then..." Watching her dress is almost as good as watching her undress. I tidy my desk and get ready to knock off early. Maureen will be surprised to see me home before my usual six pm.

"See you tomorrow Nat," I tell her on my way out.

"Go get her tiger." She makes a claw gesture and winks at me.

Pulling into the driveway at home a few minutes later I find Maureen and the kids playing with the hose in the front yard. When it's hot like this, (it's thirty-eight degrees today,) they cool off in the yard this way.

Giggles and happy family noises greet me and kissing Maureen hello I tell her, "I'm off for a shower, I have a hot date tonight."

"Oh really? Who's the lucky lady."

"Some hot creature that I don't spend anywhere near enough time with."

She laughs at me and I go and wash the dried residues of Natalie's tight little puss off me.

We feed the kids together, fish fingers and mashed potato. They think it's a special treat not to have to have a proper dinner. Jake is five and Tina is eight. As we do this simple family ritual, I actually feel relaxed for the first time in a long time. I need to do more of this. I need to reconnect.

"Got a table at 'The Homestead' for seven. Jenna is going to babysit for us. We just have to be home by ten cause it's a school night for her."

"Oh," she eyes me curiously, "When did you turn into a romantic? Some fool even sent me flowers today."

"I just... Look, I don't show you enough. So just..." I'm not real good with words, I prefer to do things for people. Guess I'm just not the gushy type.

"Well it's lovely. If you can finish off with these little monsters, I'll go find something pretty."

I had a lovely night. Maureen was attentive and relaxed, and we spoke like we used to before the kids, like no-one else even existed. In the taxi on the way home she rubbed my crotch and I could smell her arousal so strongly I'm surprised the driver didn't notice. She pulled my hand to her crotch where I discovered she'd not worn panties and was literally sopping. Paying the driver, she winked at me and told me to meet her upstairs after Jenna leaves.

Our bedroom was darkened, and I followed her beckoning voice to the bed where my hands find her already naked. She hates blowjobs so I'm blown away when she straddles me sixty-nine style and feeds me her outrageously sloppy arousal. She must be really turned on tonight, she even tastes a little different, sort of metallic or salty or something. Hot lips engulf my dick and swallow me to my root. Minutes later she pulses in orgasm, thrusting hard against my mouth and chin and it sends me over the edge. She lets me fire into her mouth and I feel it flow back out and down my softening prick.

"Goodnight honey," she tells me rolling away and when I return from the toilet, she's fast asleep.

Making a mental note to thank Natalie tomorrow for my first headjob in almost three years I drift off into peaceful dreamless sleep.

.........................................

When Max came home, he smelled like pussy. Pussy and perfume. I know he fucks that little slut of a thing. I even know when he started fucking her. It was about six months ago, right about when he started coming home and having showers straight away; right about when she started greeting me with a little defiance in her gaze. He pays the bills though and loves the kids. And at least he's stopped pestering me for sex constantly.

I still do my wifely duties though. All the while wondering whether he's had that little cock up the sluts snatch that day. I have my needs too but thankfully I have a draw full of friends who help me out.

The roses were a nice gesture though. He always gets me roses and I hate them. I like gerberas. Gerberas are pretty and playful like I used to be before I became a human vending machine. Put his thing in the slot, pop out a child. Put money on the table for groceries, pop out meals. Slap her on the butt and "Hey Maureen, how bout a blowjob." Fuck I hate blow jobs.

When I was sixteen, I fell off a dirt bike and broke my jaw. My mouth just won't open far enough even for Max's tiny pecker. So, it gets really tiring and I just feel used. I'm not complaining about his dick. It works and keeps him happy and he always makes sure I've got runs on the board before he gets off. I'm not some shallow whinging housewife. But I'd really like more.

I'd like for him to really see me like he used to. Not as an afterthought, not as an accessory to his life but as his equal; as someone he still loves. He's tired from working hard, I'll give him that but his affair with the little slut aside, it hurts not to be really 'seen' by him.

This dress I'm wearing should do the trick. It really puts the girls on display and it's long enough to be respectable and short enough to have red-blooded men angling for a glance every time my legs move. This isn't vanity. I am well aware of the toll that marriage and motherhood has taken on my figure and looks but I still work really hard to do my best with what I've got. A little pang of hurt surprises me as I wonder if it would be easier to get his attention if he didn't have a pert kid half my age to compare me to.

Jenna is a lovely kid but looks just like a younger version of her sister the slut and I wonder how much of a part Natalie had in organising this evenings dinner and the flowers. It's really out of character for Max.

"Remember when more than one of them used to work?" I'm tempted to ask him as he devours his oysters and we chit chat about nothing; the housework, the reno's, the kids.

There's a gleam in his eye that I recognise. He thinks this charade will grant him bedroom privileges, maybe even the blowjob he's been hinting at/whinging about for the last month. Ah Chardonnay, take me far away.

A wave of faint amusement courses through me when I shift in my chair, uncrossing my legs to turn and talk to the young waiter. His eyes confirm that the little black dress still works. I pretend that I'm oblivious to his view up my dress and smile as his voice is choked and nervous. He returns a short time later with more lovely chardonnay and this time his eyes play on my breasts as I lean forward to hand him my glass. Why can Max not see what even this boy can?

I'm quiet through the main course, thinking about the irony of Max and I celebrating Valentine's day when there is so little love actually left in our marriage. Perhaps we're simply celebrating another run on the board, ticking off the years. And inside a small part of me is seething.

He came home smelling of pussy and expects to get into mine by buying me dinner? He had his dick inside the little slurry and wants me to suck it? And now, even; even as we sit and chat his eyes wander, taking in the little waitress in the tight black pants, the other customers dressed for their husbands as I dressed for him. I feel a little sick to the stomach.

Catching the young waiter's eye again, I ask for directions to the ladies. He says he'll show me and escorts me through another of the old homesteads dining rooms. Some vengeful thing rises in me as I catch the young man stealing glances at my butt.

Scruffing the kid's shirt I growl at him, "Take me somewhere private, I'm going to suck your cock."

His surprised face and wide eyes frighten me with the possibility of rejection. Then he turns and makes a follow me gesture. We walk out onto the verandah and around the rear to a door which opens into a dusty disorganised storage room.

"Perfect. Just the filthy setting for this. When that silly cunt kisses me goodnight this evening I wonder if he'll smell the cum on my lips. Two can play his game." I think as I kneel before the trembling kid.

"How old are you?" I smile from where I crouch just inches from his already rock-solid member.

"Nine... nineteen." He stammers then gasps as I lick his rod from balls to tip. I hold his eyes with mine and love the sheer disbelief I see reflected.

My jaw is hurting after a while as I slurp and suck and swirl and urge him to finish. Max will be wondering where I am.

"I don't cum very easily from blow jobs." He apologises and I think to myself as I stare at his rock hard long thick cock.

"Come on then, hurry up." And turning I make my plan clear to him by hiking up my dress and bending forward to accept the largest cock I've had in the whole ten years we've been married. The only other cock for that matter and it fills me suddenly and deeply. This is what I've been missing. A man who wants me. A man who fills me, physically and otherwise. Somehow, I had thought that man was Max.

"Inside me." I tell the boy and he fills me with hot seed.

Returning to the table Max doesn't even notice my flushed face. He doesn't smell my arousal or my freshly fucked and filled pussy. He doesn't see the cum which dribbles down my thigh as we pay the bill. He does notice in the taxi when I place his hand against my bare pussy.

And foolishly, he thinks I'm hot like this for him.

He still thinks it as I straddle his face and fuck his tongue with another man's cum as I suck his tiny dick till he spurts.

I hear him sleeping beside me and smile. Perhaps there is hope for our marriage, perhaps not. But from this day forward he is not touching my mouth or my pussy unless another man has filled it first.