As Carol picked up the menu, my eyes were glued to the cleavage pouring out of her low-cut dress. The waiter had an eyeful as well; his eyes didn't stray from her breasts the entire time he took our orders. We enjoyed an excellent meal: surf 'n' turf for me and chicken Marsala for Carol. My wife made a point of leaning over several times during dinner to give me glances at her generous breasts, including a couple of quick peeks at her nipples.
After a delicious meal, the waiter stopped by again and, still staring at Carol's breasts, took our order for after-dinner drinks. Carol excused herself one more time, and again returned to the table with something balled up in her hand--this time it was her black, lacy panties! She tucked the panties into her purse next to her bra, again leaving a little strip of fabric visible. Seated next to me again, she slowly lifted her dress to show me that the lacy stockings she wore were thigh-highs. The thought of her being completely naked under that flimsy dress caused a tingling sensation in my groin. Under the table, Carol grabbed my hand and brought it up to her sweet thighs, lifting the hem of her dress to show let my fingers roam to a point that was almost indecent. I thought she would cover up when the waiter returned, but instead inched her dress up even more. The waiter's eyes never strayed from the sight of my wife's bare thighs above those stockings as he set our drinks down on the table.
As we sipped our drinks, my wife continued to ever-so-slowly guide my hand up her thighs. After what seemed like an eternity, my finger brushed the soft downr on her mound. She edged my hand up a little more so that I could slide a fingertip into her moist warmth. She was driving me crazy and my cock was rock hard. We finally finished out drinks and paid for our meal. I gave the waiter a generous tip, even though the looks he had of my wife should have been plenty enough reward for him!