Taking Wifey on a Date

It was their favorite restaurant. He had proposed to her there, and the staff considered them regulars. Tonight she wore a full skirt, but short, some kind of thin fabric, and a dirndl top. Naturally he requested a booth toward the back. The waitress gave them a smile and a too-innocent look and led them to their usual, the farthest corner booth. It was even a bit under-lighted. Romantic. Candle at the back of the table. He slid in next to her and they looked at the menus. He ordered a salad, which could be eaten entirely with one hand; he had ulterior motives. She got a large soup.

She batted her eyelashes. "This crab bisque soup is to die for," she said.

"Well don't die!" He put his hand on her leg as if comforting her.

She smiled.

He didn't take his hand away. Then, instinctively, he caressed her leg a bit, and noticed that the fabric of the skirt followed his hand as he moved it. He continued to caress, then after a time, made walking motions with his fingers, pulling the skirt up under his hand. Before long the hem arrived, and he was caressing the smooth skin of her upper leg. She pressed her leg against his as if to confirm that she liked what he was doing. Just then the rolls arrived, hot and buttery. Her leg against his kept the skirt in place while they broke open their rolls. She managed to bite into her roll in a manner that suggested sensuality, looking at him somehow suggestively. His hand went back down to her leg and he moved to caress higher than before.

The entrée arrived and he kept his hand in place, needing only one hand to eat. "I'm such a clever planner," he thought to himself.

She leaned forward to sniff the soup, and her blouse fell forward a bit, revealing even more of her enchanting curves and cleavage. It was all he could do to keep from drooling. She glanced his way, smiled to herself, then hunched her shoulders forward, improving the view, and took a really deep sniff of the soup, improving the curves.

He let his hand drift a bit higher and onto her inner thigh, still enjoying the smooth softness of her skin in spite of the distraction above.

"Y'know, I can't lose no matter where I sit," he remarked. "Across from you, I get the most wonderful scenery in the world, what with me being a voyeur, but sitting here, I get the benefit of touching you because I'm also haptic."

She wiggled a bit and propped her foot over his, then hitched her knee over his leg! The spread of her legs was an unexpected and delightful invitation, and he let his hand drift farther upward. She slouched down just a little, and he detected that she had gone commando!

He let his little finger slide upwards gently and lightly along her treasure, and she moved her other leg away, and heaved a little sigh.

"This is the best night of my life," he said. "Wonderful company, stimulating conversation, food almost as good as yours. What could be better?"

"Just wait until you get home," she smirked.

-

They left the restaurant hand in hand. He held the door for her and she scooted over to the center of the vehicle. "I'm sure glad this thing has a bench seat," she quipped.

As they pulled out of the parking lot, she hitched up the underside of her skirt, lifting her hips at least a foot into the air. "And I'm glad we have a nice clean cloth seat cover, too." She looked at him sideways. "I'll let you handle the upper fabric. You're so good at it."

He reached over and put his hand on her knee and pulled the skirt up an inch, then put both hands on the wheel to negotiate a corner. Returning his hand to her leg, he walked the skirt up another couple inches until the hem was right at his fingertips. He reached over the hem and pulled the skirt another couple inches, running his fingertips onto her skin.

"Don't take all day, buster," she said mock-angrily, "we don't have all night." At the same time she spread her legs some more, the skirt sagging into the space between her knees.

He made another turn, then returned his hand to her leg, this time putting his whole hand on the inside of her thigh, and slid the hand up, pulling the skirt pretty much out of the way. He enjoyed the feel of her soft inner thigh, but stopped before he got all the way up.

She grabbed her skirt and hitched it up around her waist to encourage him, exposing a most delightful pair of legs. He dared take only glances, but even the short looks were delightful, not to mention the distraction of her neckline and where his hand was. It was all he could do to pay any attention to the road at all!

But he knew her geography well enough, and he let his hand travel to where he knew the treasure would be.

She opened her legs wide and let her head fall back, eyes closed. She made a gasping inhalation. "Yes, like that. Don't stop. Ah."

Driving, he had to be careful, and that led to very gentle touching, which seemed to be the right thing to do anyway. He braced his fingers against her far leg and moved his thumb in careful little circles. She put her hand in his crotch and gave him a squeeze. At one point the road was rough and he held his hand still, letting the vibration of the vehicle move him up and down. "Ooo, that's my favorite part of the road," she murmured.

They pulled into the driveway, and she pulled her skirt down with a sigh. "Okay, enough of you being in charge. Get up to the bedroom."