Author's note: This story builds slowly and pushes a silly premise far beyond plausibility. I hope you enjoy it.
My thanks to
Ravenna933
,
swiftlytilting
, and
LostLittleLamb
for their thoughtful feedback and encouragement. I highly recommend reading their stories!
* * * * * * *
We never said the plan out loud. Neither of us believed in astrology or nonsense like that. I was embarrassed the idea had even occurred to me. Maybe Sara felt the same, I'm not sure. Still, the more I thought about it, the more I wanted to conceive our first child during the lunar eclipse.
It all started when we dined at a fancy restaurant to celebrate our fifth wedding anniversary. Sara looked stunning. Her dark hair cut short atop her round face presented a sweet wholesomeness. Every person who saw her tonight, though, wouldn't stop at just her face. The black dress she wore hugged her sexy curves and seemed hardly up to the task of containing her substantial breasts. She didn't dress like this often, and I relished showing her off as we were seated at our booth.
"Oh this is perfect," Sara said, cozying up beside me. We had a great view of the other diners and took in the room. The cocktails from the bar already had us feeling happy, and we ordered another round. The booths had those high backs that made it feel like we were hidden in a private little nest together.
"Ten o'clock," Sara said just loud enough for me to hear. "Couple in their sixties."
I glanced over. The man's dark suit may have been fashionable a few decades ago, but it fit his slim form well. The woman was more stylish in a deep blue dress that flattered her ample figure. Her face was pretty enough, but her most striking feature was the smile that brightened the room. I couldn't help smiling in response, even though she wasn't looking at me.
"You just know she's an absolute cum slut," Sara murmured.
The sip of my whiskey caught in my throat as I laughed, spluttering down my chin. A few people glanced at us as I cleaned my face.
"Play it cool, Will. You'll blow our cover," Sara hissed with a smirk while she calmly sipped her own drink.
"I think she looks sweet," I said.
"She can be both!" Sara continued deadpan. "She probably has a load of her husband's cum in her belly right now."
I shook my head, still laughing. We'd barely started drinking, and she was already having fun talking naughtier than anyone who knew her would ever imagine. Even though she often did this when we were alone, it still caught me off guard to see her innocent-looking face talk this way. I could feel myself blushing even though I knew this only encouraged her.
"I'm going to guess you'd rate her a four out of ten," Sara said. "She's old, but you're a sucker for big tits and fat asses. I bet she likes it up the ass."
"Six," I said smugly. "I like her smile."
"I knew it!" Sara laughed. "You'd totally fuck her in the ass, wouldn't you?"
Despite the way Sara talked, our sex life was pretty vanilla. Intense, wonderful, and lovingβI have no complaintsβbut it involved no "cum guzzling," anal sex, or any of the other kinds of things she loved to tease about in these situations.
"You'd plow her right in front of her husband, wouldn't you?"
"If required, certainly. But speaking of, I can't quite tell about him. He looks a bit stuffy, but not bad for an old guy. I suppose you'd rate him a three."
"Oh no," Sara said. "Four, at least. He looks fit enough for his age. He could probably bend me over this table right here and do the job. I might even get some 'improving' comments about how much prettier I'd be with long hair and you know how I get off on condescension."
I laughed, but Sara was already scanning for the next targets.
"Straight ahead of us, far side of the room. Dark-haired woman with the sour face and her miserable-looking companion."
"I see them. I'm gonna guess a five for the guy. He's handsome enough, and you'd probably enjoy showing him there are good things in life, too."
Sara laughed. "Maybe. I might be too much for him, though. I have a feeling he'd cream his pants before I even got my dress off."
"Judging by the way he was staring at you as we walked in," I said, "He may have already creamed his pants."
"I didn't notice," Sara giggled nervously. She always got a little uncomfortable being admired. "But you're right, he's got potential. I can't tell about that woman he's with though. She's pretty, and she looks fit. Breasts on the smaller side, but I bet they look fantastic. Six?"
I shook my head. "Air ball. How could you get it so wrong? She looks mean as hell. Huge turnoff."
"Maybe Scroogette just needs a quality fuck from a quality man to turn her life around and make her into a nice person. Did you ever think about that, you selfish prick?"
"Look, you know I'd do my duty for a soul in need, but that doesn't change the fact she's a one."
"Okay, okay," Sara laughed. "Wait, here we go. Just walking in. Dark hair, red dress, nice legs, big tits. I think she checks all the boxes. Seven?"
I turned to look at the couple being led in by the host. Sara was right, this woman looked good. We pretended to focus on the menu as they were seated in the booth beside ours.
"Dude looks fit," I said under my breath. "I know you like tall men. Seven for you, too?"
Sara nodded, but with an indecisive shrug.
They were both around thirty, like us, but it was clear their evening was not going as well as ours. The poor woman hadn't even sat down before the man started correcting her about something.
"It's a common misunderstanding," he said, flecks of spit already gathered at the corners of his mouth, "but medieval people understood astronomy well enough to not panic when an eclipse happened. It's
comets
they got worked up over."
"I see," the woman said, trying to catch the eye of their waiter.
"The Native Americans were superstitious about eclipses, though," the man continued. "In fact, Columbus had an almanac of lunar eclipses and he intimidated the natives on Jamaica by predicting one."
"Columbus was also an asshole enslaver," the woman said.
"Well, yes, of course," the man mumbled before the arrival of the waiter saved him from digging that particular hole any deeper.
"Chardonnay for us both," the man said.
"No wine for me," the woman said. "Whiskey on ice. A double."
"Her score is rising while his plummets," Sara whispered. I nodded in agreement.