I usually don't have to work late, but occasionally it is necessary. One such night, my team had a project that was to be presented to the client in three days, and a major engineering problem popped up. It would be at least midnight before I could be home, so I called my wife Ann to let her know that I would be eating at the office, and for her to not wait up for me.
We became so engrossed in our work that we forgot about ordering pizza, and worked with such intensity that we finished by nine o'clock.
I stopped at a restaurant with a bar that was known as a singles' pickup place. The lighting was very dim, which allowed couples privacy at their tables. I sat in a booth that overlooked both the bar, which was fairly well lit so the bartenders could see what they were doing, and the door.
Ann and I have been married for twenty-three years. Her 38D breasts are still firm despite having nursed three children. Her work as a nurse is very demanding physically, which has kept her legs shapely and her waist narrow. She could easily compete with twenty-somethings in a beauty contest. I keep in shape by jogging three times a week.
When our youngest child left home for college, we started spending more of our weekends on mountain lake beaches. She wore string bikinis which didn't cover much of her body. The thong bottom left her arse bare for all to see. On every trip young men in their twenties would shamelessly stare at her with bulging swim trunks. She would walk past them swinging her hips to torment them. I enjoyed her antics as much as she did. Usually after a half-hour of walking around, we would lay down on our beach towel, and she would lay on top of me and kiss me feverishly. I often heard a guy comment how lucky I was to have a beautiful woman like her. Frequently we dashed to our van to work off our passions.
This particular evening I was mentally and emotionally drained from working. Although I was mainly interested in grabbing a quick meal and going home, I took time to look around. People watching helps me unwind, and my nerves were very taut.
I noticed a couple at the bar. He was sitting on his stool facing her, so I saw him in profile; her back was to me. He appeared to be in his mid-twenties and was wearing a business suit. Another young manager hitting on his secretary, I thought. Her blouse fit very snugly. I could not see the outline of a bra. Maybe she was picking him up. Her long flowing blonde hair reminded me of my wife. After a few minutes she leaned toward him and whispered in his ear. His hand began stroking her leg, and she did not pull away. He's making progress, I thought. They'll be leaving together soon.
My sandwich came, and I turned my attention to eating. After taking my first bite. I looked back up. She had turned to face him, and her hand was high up on his leg. Her miniskirt barely covered her bottom, and her nipples were clearly outlined through the material of her blouse. I nearly choked when I recognized her. She was Ann!
She was stroking his cock through his trousers. I loved watching her teasing at the beach, but this was something else. The teasing was at a distance, but this was direct contact. His right hand disappeared under her skirt as he put his left arm around her shoulders and kissed her. As their lips parted, she looked deeply into his eyes. She rubbed his cock again, then turned around and slipped off her stool. As she did so, I caught a glimpsed of her engorged pussy lips under her skirt.
I was in shock. We had often been called Mr. and Mrs. Hot-to-Trot at the lakes. Ann and I had always enjoyed ourselves sexually. We never made a secret of our sexuality, but we had never once discussed opening up our marriage beyond displaying our bodies at the beach. We often talked about other people's reactions to our running to our van and making it rock. Neither of us was a virgin when we married, but we had known from our first fuck that no one else would ever please us the way we pleasured each other that first time.
Yet Ann was walking out of the restaurant with a much younger man. Was she trying to relive her swinging single days? Was I not satisfying her as well as I used to? Was this their first time or part of an ongoing affair? Did she come here not wearing any underwear to attract a man for a one-night stand, or did she do it to please him?
Their hands were on each other's butts as the door closed behind them. I dropped my sandwich on the plate. Maybe they would part company outside. If this was another of her teases, it was the boldest one I had ever witnessed. The way she looked into his eyes was more of an invitation than a tease. I wanted to dash outside to look for them, but, for once, I didn't want to attract attention to myself. Since I had told her I wouldn't be home until midnight, she couldn't have known, any more than I did, I would be eating at that particular restaurant, especially since we had never been there before. I doubted she had seen me in the dark booth.
I slowly ate half of my sandwich. Even though I was hungry, my confused state had destroyed my appetite. Why was she doing this? She never mentioned being bored in bed. I certainly wasn't. She liked the bulging swim trunks she saw at the beach, but never expressed any desire for another man. Indeed she told me they made her want me even more. I had looked at other women and had gotten my own bulges which made me want to screw her in the sand.
I left twenty dollars on the table and went outside. Her car was nowhere in sight. I walked around the nearest corner. It wasn't there either. I went into the alley behind the restaurant. Still nothing.
