He called me.
I hadn't talked to him in so long that just seeing his number on my caller ID sent a shiver down my spine. I picked up the phone, acutely aware of my husband's presence next to me, trying to act normal. "Hello," I said, carefully nonchalant.
"Can I see you soon?" he asked. Straight to the point. He always was like that. I could feel myself getting wet just thinking about him.
"Yeah, maybe Wednesday?" I said, glancing at my husband. He was still engaged in whatever he was doing on his computer. I felt the hair on my arms raise slightly, thinking he knew just what I was doing, that he would grab the phone at any minute and tell the caller to go fuck himself, that he would just leave.
"Seven o'clock?"
"See you then." I hung up immediately and turned my attention back to the television, as though nothing had happened. As if I hadn't just made a date right under my husband's nose. He didn't even say anything.
It felt like Wednesday arrived within minutes. I normally work a double on Wednesdays, but I had already secretly arranged for a coworker to cover my second shift. As I was getting ready for work that day, I chose my outfit very carefully to accentuate my assets. I picked a black thong and a beige pencil skirt, tightly hugging the curve of my ample rear, and a sexy black lace bra, which I covered with a tight-fitting black blouse with a diving neckline. My 36D's were still as perky as ever, and the cleavage was almost deep enough to dive into.
I smiled at myself in the mirror, knowing how good I looked. Despite nearing 30, my hourglass figure was as sexy as ever. My husband walked by and slapped my ass, and I playfully swatted his hand away, sure that he could see the deep flush creep up into my cheeks at the thought of what I would be doing at seven.
My shift at work seemed to pass in minutes, and before I knew it, I was walking up to the door of his apartment. I raised my hand to knock, but before I even touched the wood, the door swung open, and he was in front of me.
"Hi," he said. I watched him drink me in from top to bottom, watched his pupils dilate as he took in my curves. I did the same, letting my gaze slide down his tall, slender frame. He was so different from my husband: pale and blonde, compared to my husband's dark Mediterranean complexion and hair. My eyes lingered briefly on the zipper of his blue jeans. "Come in," he invited, breaking my reverie.
I stepped over the threshold into his arms. He reached past me to slam the door shut as I raised my lips to his. He was over six feet to my meager five-two, but we had always managed to fit together. I pressed my mouth against his, darting my tongue playfully between his lips.
Already I could feel his hardness through our clothes, and moisture was beginning to rise between my own legs. He kissed me more deeply, our tongues dancing together, and pulled me tightly against him. For a moment, it seemed like the world slipped away as we kissed, as though nothing else mattered or would ever matter again.
He released me gently, taking my hand in his. "Let's at least get to the bedroom," he said, smiling. His cheeks were flushed under his pale skin. He led me across the living room to his bedroom. I could tell he had cleaned for me; his king-size bed was neatly made with a midnight-blue comforter, and candles burned on each of the bedside tables. I smiled at the effort, since he knew what was going to happen regardless. It was sweet, romantic, and completely unnecessary.
I placed one hand on his chest and pushed him down onto the bed. I clambered atop him, my skirt hitching up to my hips, exposing the creamy white flesh of my thighs. Straddling him, I leaned down and kissed him again. He wrapped his arms around me, his tongue pushing deeper into my mouth, his hard cock pressing against my nearly naked crotch.
I sat up, still atop him, and peeled off my top. He shifted my weight on top of him so that he too could sit up. Keeping me straddled on top of him, he reached behind me and unhooked my bra. My large breasts tumbled out, pink nipples standing tightly at attention.
He groaned just at the sight of them. Cupping the left one in his hand, he flicked the nipple gently with his tongue. My hips jerked involuntarily against him, and I moaned. He flicked it again and again, and I tipped my head back, arching my back and thrusting my tits forward toward his face.
He switched his attention to the right breast, giving it the same tongue teasing as he pinched my left nipple with his hand. I moaned again, feeling myself getting even wetter, as he finally took my nipple into his mouth, sucking gently. My hips thrust against him again, and he sucked more urgently at my breasts, switching randomly between them. I could feel myself reaching climax.
He felt it too, and took me further, biting softly at my erect nipples. He pressed my breasts together, taking both nipples into his mouth at once, biting and sucking as I thrust helplessly against him. I cried out and orgasmed hard, my body rigid, my wet bush pushing against his erection through his jeans. He kept me at the peak of sensation as long as possible, biting at my nipples and holding me hard against him.
I finally relaxed, letting my head come back forward. I sighed heavily, feeling my breathing return to normal and my eyes refocus. He laughed softly and said, "Well that was easy." I smiled coyly back at him, saying, "Oh, I'm not done yet."
