A Night Out 25

Lovingly dedicated to my wife, who's hotter than she knows.

We have had dinner with the kids. They're settled in for the night with some rented videos. You and I are going out. Finally, a night for just the two of us!

You look stunning in a simple black dress, cut a few inches above the knee, revealing the shapely legs that I have always considered your most beautiful physical asset. A small black purse hangs from your shoulder, while black pumps adorn your feet. You have indulged me this evening, as underneath you have on the underwear I presented to you earlier – a black, stretch lace camisole with matching boy cut panties that cover a black garter belt holding up the floral jacquard stockings. I hope that the novel way the lingerie touches your body serves as a constant reminder of your sexuality throughout the evening.

We kiss the kids goodbye and lock the door behind us. As we drive off under the setting sun, the freedom is exhilarating. We exchange small talk, remarking how wonderful it is just being together. One of your hands fondles a garter beneath your dress and you tell me how strange they feel. I smile, hoping that it will evolve into something more.

We pull into The Old Mill for a drink or two, but more importantly to dance in each others arms. We seat ourselves at the bar and I am overjoyed to be sitting next to the love of my life looking so beautiful. We order our drinks – a martini for me, a sea breeze for you. Cheers!

We reminisce about the wonderful times we have spent together – our first date, our wedding, our kids – happily reliving the pleasant memories. The band begins to play and we finish our drinks. I take your hand and lead you to the dance floor. We slowly move about the floor, luxuriating in the warmth passing between us.

After the band finishes their set, we return to the bar. We order another round while the heat lingers. Our conversation becomes more intimate. I compliment you (again) on how great you look and the desire it creates within me. With the second cocktail, your inhibitions begin to dissolve and you confess how surprisingly sexy you feel in my gift. I cryptically mention further surprises await you.

The band returns and I need to feel you against me once more. We move to the dance floor and I press you to me more closely than before. As we dance, I am thrilled by the feel of your garters on my thigh and the swell of your breasts against my chest. Similarly, you are excited by the sensation my emerging erection. After several songs, I whisper in your ear that if we do not sit down soon, I take you right there. You reply that you would offer no resistance.

I prod you to walk in front of me as we exit, concerned over the bulge in my trousers. We ride home in near silence, your hand in mine, our passion subsiding, but not extinguished.

As we enter the house, you kick off you shoes. It's been too long since you last wore heels. I ask you to check on the kids and be certain to use the bathroom while I prepare your surprise. With a quizzical glance, you head to do as I request. Returning, you find our bedroom door locked. You knock; I step out to meet you, closing the door behind me. We embrace and I kiss you deeply, but briefly. As I blindfold your eyes, you are confused and inquire to know the reason. I ask you to trust me and be silent. With a slight hesitation, you agree.

I open the door and guide you inside. You become nervous as you have lost contact with me, but soon find me removing your dress. After it slides down your body, you attempt to embrace me, but I instruct you to remain still for now. I teasingly caress you, lightly running my fingers over your body. Suddenly, I pull off your panties, leaving you in just the camisole and stockings.

Slowly directing you to the bed, I lay you down. You hear the sound of Velcro and soon find yourself bound at the wrists and ankles, spread eagled on the mattress. I remove the blindfold, uncertain of what to expect, your eyes open slowly, to find the room bathed in soft candlelight.

Although I always find the sight of your body exciting, I am electrified now, particularly in the beguiling expression on your face – is it excitement or fear? Maybe some of both. Our eyes meet and remain fixed as I slowly undress before you, my own arousal prominent.

I sit over your breasts – don't worry I won't crush you. I commence to massage you body. Starting with your head, I run my fingers through your hair and gently rub your temples. My soothing touch chases the anxiety from your face. Your eyes close as I continue to your neck, shoulders and arms. I rise up and sit between your legs. You shiver as my fingernails trace across your armpits, down your ribs and across your midriff. Then another shudder, as I travel the twin hollows in your pelvis.

The light scratching continues down your legs. The massage recommences at your feet, moving ever so slowly towards your thighs. You sigh and moan as my hands press upon you, pushing the knots of your muscles into submission, stretching the kinks from your joints.

Upon reaching your hips again, I slowly pull up the camisole to expose your tummy. Delicate kisses tickle. My tongue swirls around your navel. My hands pull the lace taut over your breasts, the nipples protruding prominently. Then my fingers play across them; your chest rises in greeting, but my touch remains delicate.

I pull your camisole up further to reveal your breasts and am drawn to them. My fingers rake them lightly. I lean forward and softly ask what you want. "This" – my tongue circles each breast; "this" – my tongue flicks each nipple; "this" – sucking them in; "or this" – your torso jerks, you had not been able to see the frozen plasticube I had secreted on the bed along side of us. "Tell me!" I command.

"Everything," you reply, sighing.

I alternate between the coldness of the cubes and the warmth of my lips and tongue. Your breasts swell with excitement, the areolas stretched and nipples tightly erect. Your hips gyrate with primitive instinct as my tongue slides down across your navel. When I reached the delicate hair, I seize some between my lips and pull firmly, distending the follicles. You squirm in search of more intimate contact, but my lips release you.

You find your legs temporarily free, only to be restrained again, but held high and wide. The beautifully obscene display beckons me irresistibly. I gently lick your lips glimmering in the flickering light, the delightfully familiar taste intoxicates. My tongue parts your petals and receives a trickle of your dew. Greedily, I plant my mouth against you, sucking you in, while my tongue finds your clitoris. Your hips press vigorously against me. You are close, very close, but it is not to be my love.

I rise and you whine in supplication. I gently stroke the head of my painfully hard erection against your slickness; your restricted movements vainly seek my entry.

"Say it!" I demand. You whimper, but nothing more, so the torment continues, my own need nearly unbearable.

Finally, you break and plead, "Fuck me, oh please, fuck me!"

Victorious, I release your legs and gratefully plunge into you. Your legs wrap around my waist; your heels riding on my buttocks, demanding deep and forceful thrusts. Your glazed eyes look past me to some unknown location. Your climax comes quickly, arms pulling at their binds as the orgasmic spasms course through your body. I am but a stroke behind and me seed gushes forth, primitive grunts are expelled between gasps and I collapse on top of you.

We feel the drumming of each others hearts, our hot bodies pressed together, gulping air. As we return to earth, I release you of your bonds and my weight; we spoon together as sleep overtakes us.