Guess Who's Coming at Dinner?

"Let's just go home, Michael. Come on," Alice said, reaching over to run her fingers along his arm. "You know what kind of mood I'm in, I told you that when I got up this morning. I really just want to go home, get naked, share a shower, and have sex with you for about an hour or four."

"Alice," Michael said, with a sigh, "you know we can't do that. I have to meet Mark and Brenda here, I promised them that we'd have dinner with them and discuss the Symbion deal. It's a major thing, and if we don't get some of the details hashed out, we're never going to get the thing closed."

"All you ever think about is work any more," Alice said, pulling away from him and looking out the passenger side window as they drove over the bridge. She watched the lights reflecting on the water below, and saw the restaurant where they were supposed to be eating in 20 minutes. It was a huge old place that had been built directly into the side of the rocky slope that dropped down to the side of the river, with a large outside deck surrounded by small lights and ultra-fine netting to keep the bugs at bay but not block the view. There were people out on the deck dancing, but Alice knew that they would spend the whole night at some table in the back of the restaurant, where Mark and Michael would talk endlessly about the accounting department's role in the merger, the research and development reports on the new products, and how old man Winters was such a pain in the ass. Brenda would drink half a dozen whisky sours in the first 20 minutes they were there and then spend the rest of the evening pushing broccoli from one side of her plate to the other, lost in a drunken stupor, unable to have a conversation with Alice about anything other than when the waitress was bringing her next drink.

Unfortunately, Alice had woken up that morning after a particularly erotic dream, one that left her tingling in all the right places for most of the day. Granted, she'd masturbated in the shower that morning before work, hoping that it would take care of the tingle, but instead it only made it that much worse. And with Michael out of bed and off to work before her alarm clock even went off, there was no chance of a morning quickie to try and alleviate some of the desire.

Hell, it was no wonder she was having those dreams. Between her overtime for the summer season at the dress shop and his involvement with this Symbion deal, they only saw one another awake for an hour, sometimes two, in the evenings. Even weekends had been destroyed with Michael having to work on Saturdays, because when Sunday rolled around, all he wanted to do was sleep, watch sports on television, and be left alone. On the rare occasion that he was in the mood to do something, or when she begged for some attention from him, the session usually lasted 15 minutes and started to break down when one or both of them realized they'd rather just go to sleep than be bothered with pretending they were having fun.

"Honey?" Michael said, quietly. "Are you okay?"

"Yeah, Michael, I'm fine," Alice answered, just as quietly.

"I promise," he said, "this weekend we'll spend time together. Just the two of us. I won't go in to work tomorrow, I'll tell them I have something else I have to do. We'll go have a picnic or something nice. And I'll make up for tonight. You'll still be in the mood tomorrow, I'm sure, and we'll play a little then."

"Yeah, ok," Alice said, very noncommittally. "Whatever you want to do." Alice continued to stare out the window as they parked the car and got out, walking across the parking lot, not even holding hands the way they would have when they were first married. Instead, Michael walked a step or so in front of her, head down, silent.

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"Stevens, party of four," Michael said to the maitre d' when they got inside, and the man checked his reservation sheet.

"Oh, yes," he said, nodding. "You must be the Carpenters. I have a message for you, sir. Mister Stevens called to say that he would be a little late, and that you and Mrs. Carpenter should please take a table and have a drink while you were waiting for them. He said that he would call when he and his wife were on their way. If you'll follow me, please, I'll seat you."

"May we have a table out on the deck?" Alice asked suddenly, and Michael shot her a look of annoyance. He knew that there would be music, bright lights, and more people out there – a less-than-conducive atmosphere for talking about mergers and acquisitions and accounting and research and all the other crap that Michael and Mark would be hip-deep in this evening. But Alice was damned if she was going to sit there staring into her empty salad bowl while the men ignored her and Brenda tried not to pass out before dessert was done. At least this way she could watch the river, the people, and enjoy a little bit of the evening.

"Of course, madam. Right this way, please," the host said, leading them past a number of empty – and very silent – tables.

"What are you doing?" Michael hissed, and Alice simply smiled.

"I'm trying to not stink up this lovely restaurant," Alice answered, under her breath. "Because I'm pretty god damned sure that I will be dead from boredom before the appetizer is over and I'll be rotting by dessert."

Michael shot her a look as they moved past tables full of laughing, chatting people to a table somewhat away from the crowd but still with a good view of the river.

"Mister Stevens said that you would need a quiet table where you could discuss business," the host said, laying menus on two of the four plates at the table. "I believe this should be quiet enough for that. Is this alright?"

"It's lovely, thank you," Alice answered, before Michael could object.

"Very good, madam. Have a lovely evening, and enjoy your meal," the host said, and turned back to the main portion of the restaurant.

"Thank you," Alice said to his back, as Michael pulled out a chair and sat down, not even waiting for her or helping her with her chair.

"You're going to be a pain in my ass all night, aren't you?" Michael said, as he picked up the menu. "You're going to give me shit because I wasn't in the mood to skip a business discussion that could net us well over half a million dollars. All you care about is having me get naked and get it up so you can get a piece. Thanks, Alice. Thanks so very fucking much."

"I'm not going to be a pain in your ass, Michael. You and Mark should be able to have a perfectly fine conversation out here, and we're close enough that if Brenda gets as drunk as she usually does, when she falls over the railing, the cold water of the river will wake her right up."

"I can't believe you just said that," Michael said, staring her down. "That's just mean."

"It might be mean, but it's true. Give me a break, just figure out what you want to eat and leave me alone. Who knows, maybe I'll meet some nice guy out here who wants to dance with an old, ugly married lady."

"You aren't old, and you're not ugly," Michael said, rolling his eyes. "And I won't be baited into giving you the compliments that you're fishing for, so drop it."

They looked over the menu in silence, ordering drinks and telling the waitress that they'd wait a while before ordering food, since they were still waiting on Mark and Brenda to arrive. The waitress nodded, leaving their menus, and went back inside. After a few minutes, she came back outside with a Bloody Mary for Michael and a whiskey and cola for Alice.

The silence continued between them as Alice bolted her drink and flagged the waitress for another, while Michael sipped on his Bloody Mary and placed his briefcase on an open chair to begin pulling out the volumes of files that he and Mark needed to discuss tonight. Alice wondered to herself why he and Mark couldn't simply talk about all this stuff at the office, or over the phone in the evenings or on Saturday. But it had nearly become a ritual that every time there was a large deal going on, they'd meet Mark and Brenda at some upscale place like this with linen tablecloths and crystal stemware, eat things that most people couldn't pronounce, and pretend like they were having some clandestine meeting about whatever was going on.

Alice was startled from her reverie of staring at the river below, contemplating jumping just to find out what would happen, by the sound of Michael's phone chirping on his belt clip. He sighed, reaching for it with one hand and grabbing another file folder with the other.

"Michael Carpenter, may I help you? Oh, hey Mark. Uh huh. Yeah? You're kidding me! Well, what are we doing, then? No, it's fine, I understand. Right. Right. I should be, sure. Yeah, tomorrow's fine," Michael said, and Alice shook her head slightly, out of Michael's line of sight. So much for his solemn promise to take tomorrow off to spend the weekend with her.

"Ok, buddy. Yeah, call me in the morning. I'll be at the office around 7 or so. Ok, tell her we hope she feels better. Okay. Okay. Bye," Michael said, hanging up his cell phone and clipping it back to his belt. Without a word to Alice, he began putting his files back in his briefcase.

"Well?" Alice finally asked.

"Well what?"

"What the hell is going on?" Alice asked, exasperated.

"Oh. Brenda's got the flu, been puking all afternoon. They're not coming," Michael said, snapping his briefcase shut. "So I guess we can go ahead and pay for our drinks and head home."

"No."

"No? No what?" Michael asked, halfway out of his chair, briefcase in hand.

"No, we're not going home. We're going to have dinner like a couple of normal people, talk about something other than Symbion and the shipment I'm expecting at the shop this week. Then, maybe, we'll go home. But I'm not leaving here without food."

"Fine," Michael said, sighing. "Whatever you want to do."

Alice highly doubted that what she wanted to do would happen, but she'd settle for dinner and another whiskey and cola.

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"God, I'd forgotten about that," Michael said, laughing. "She was so pissed off when she found that stupid frog paperweight in the bottom of the snake cages."

"Mrs. Stratton was sure scared of those things, for being a biology teacher and having had them in her lecture hall for seven years."

"Well, I heard that one of them bit her once, and after that, she didn't want anything to do with them."

"If she'd gotten out in the sun more, and shaved those hairy knuckles of her, maybe that boa wouldn't have mistaken her for a mouse," Alice said, nearly choking on her whiskey as she laughed.

Just then, there was a loud crash on the road outside the club, and without warning, the place was plunged into darkness. Alice let out a yip of surprise, and there were immediate calls from the patrons inside, as well as those on the deck, of, "Hey!" and "What the...?" Someone held up his Zippo lighter so they could see a bit around them, and a moment later the host stepped out on the deck to announce that someone had just hit the power pole out front, tearing down the lines and knocking out their power.

"Ladies and gentlemen, we request that you stay here, as the parking lot is entirely blocked by the accident. It doesn't appear that anyone has been injured, but I'm sure there will be a number of police and fire personnel out there for awhile cleaning up the mess. Marjorie and Suzanne will be bringing out candles for the tables so that you can have some light. I regret that this has happened," he finished, and ducked back inside as a loud breaking sound came from the kitchen side of the restaurant.

"Well, I guess we're stuck here," Michael said, leaning back in his chair. "And just when I was thinking about getting out of here, taking you home, and having my way with you."

"You must have had too much to drink," Alice said, with a chuckle. "You haven't talked like that in months. And it figures – you finally DO feel like doing something besides the required weekly quickie and we're stuck out on the deck of a high-class place with two dozen other people."

"Yeah, that does suck. And look who's talking about too much to drink and ragging on Brenda about her habits. You've had, what, four drinks tonight?"

"Five, but who's counting?" Alice said, grinning. "I'm fine. I had a good meal, and it's been two hours, so I'm alright."

The waitresses came out of the main part of the building, placing short glass jars on each table and lighting the candle inside. It was much less light than the rope lighting had provided, making it hard to see much other than the tables right next to them. Most of the crowd was nearer the dance floor, so Michael and Alice seemed to be nearly on their own at the back of the deck.

"It should only be about half an hour for them to have the power restored, or so we've been told," the waitress said, as she placed a candle on their table and lit the wick. "So hopefully we'll have things up and running again in no time."

"It's fine," Alice said. "We weren't going anywhere other than home, anyhow."

"Well, at least it's almost romantic," the waitress said, smiling, then turned to go back inside and assist the host, who had stuck his head out the door, looking frantic.

"It is kind of nice," Michael said, leaning back in his chair again. "So what should we talk about now?" he asked, reaching for his Bloody Mary.

"How about how much I'd like to suck your cock right now?" Alice said boldly, turning to look him in the eye.

Michael almost choked, and narrowly avoided spraying tomato juice everywhere in his shock at his wife's blatant statement. "How much you want to do what?!" he managed, after wiping the tomato juice from his chin.

"You heard me," Alice said, glancing around, noticing that the couples at the front of the deck had gotten up to stand and look over the railing.

"But... what if someone sees us?" Michael asked, and Alice could see his blush, even in the candlelight.

"Maybe we'll start a trend," Alice said, turning her chair to face him.

"What if the lights come back on?"

"Then it'll be easier for you to see my lips wrapped around your dick," Alice answered, scooting a little closer.

"We can't do this, Alice. We might get thrown out of here at best, or arrested, at worst. Can you imagine how that would look to the... what are you... uhhh," he muttered, as Alice's hand started working over his crotch. She could feel his cock getting stiff, and knew that for all of his protests, he was turned on. She'd given him a hand job once at a football game while they were in college together, sitting on the top row of the bleachers with a blanket over their laps. He'd loved it then, but later chided her for doing something so blatant. But the truth was that the danger was what got him going, and this was much more dangerous – and public – than a college football game in November.

"Just watch and tell me if anyone's coming... besides you, I mean. I think I can figure that one out on my own," Alice said quietly, as she unzipped his fly slowly and reached inside to bring his now-hard cock out into the air. Before it was even fully exposed, she was leaning over, her mouth on it, and she heard him gasp as her tongue danced over the head for a moment before she took him all the way to the root, deep-throating him. Alice slipped out of the chair and went to her knees, looking up momentarily to see Michael with his attention torn between watching what she was doing and watching to see if anyone was approaching the table.

Alice continued to suck and lick at his cock, pushing the fabric of his boxers down below his balls so she could tease them with her fingers as her index finger and thumb circled the base of his cock. She could hear him breathing heavily, trying not to make noises that would attract attention, but whispering encouragement to her so she knew he was enjoying what she was doing. With her free hand, Alice reached inside the neckline of her dress and pushed aside one of the cups on her bra, giving her nipple a quick pinch. She could feel the satin of her gown rubbing between it and Michael's thigh, the sensation going straight to her pussy, which was getting wet very quickly. Nothing was more of a turn-on to her than sucking Michael's cock until he shot a thick load in her mouth, and doing it like this, with the knowledge that the waitress might come walking back at any moment, or that the lights might come back on suddenly and expose them made it even more of a thrill.

"Stop, stop, oh shit," Michael said, and Alice pulled away just long enough to hear their server's shoes on the wood of the deck as she approached the table. Thinking quickly, Alice grabbed her napkin and threw it over Michael's exposed cock, then glanced up over the edge of the table as the waitress drew closer.

"Is there anything I can get you folks? Is everything ok?" she asked, looking slightly confused by Alice's position on the floor.

"Everything's fine," Alice said. "I just dropped something out of my purse."

"May I help you find it?" the waitress said, starting around the table where she was sure to see the tent that the napkin was making on Michael's lap, which was barely under the edge of the table now as he leaned forward.

"No, no, it's fine," Alice said, getting up. "I'll find it before we go. No problem."

"If you're sure," the waitress said, backing up.

"We're sure," Michael managed, after clearing his throat. "No problem."

"Ok, well, call if you need anything," the waitress said, going back towards the other diners.

"That was close," Michael said, with a mischievous grin.

"So were you," Alice said, tilting her head to one side.

"Yeah, well," Michael began.

"Well, I'll just have to start all over," Alice said, and slid off her chair again, taking Michael's half-hard cock in her mouth and sucking hard, feeling it swell as she wrapped her fingers around it.

"Oh, jeeze," Michael moaned, and his head swiveled back and then around, watching to see if anyone else was going to come over and interrupt them again. But after just a few minutes of Alice's tongue dancing over the head of his cock, it wouldn't have mattered if the whole restaurant had wandered over to observe; his hand came down to her hair, and he began to move his hips, thrusting his cock into her mouth as best he was able while still remaining seated.

Alice brought her mouth off his cock just long enough to look up at him, and whispered, "Fuck my face, baby. Come for me," and then deep-throated him once again, her fingers working in time with her mouth.

"Oh god, Alice, suck it," he moaned, as quietly as possible, and wrapped his hands around her head as he thrust deeply again and again, his ass almost leaving the seat as he fucked her mouth as rapidly as he was able. His hands moved her head at the speed he wanted, and Alice surrendered to his tempo, letting her saliva lubricate the skin as she suctioned her cheeks in and used her fingers to jack him off where her mouth wasn't making contact.

With a final thrust and a squeeze of her head, Michael brought her movement to a halt and with a grunt, he came, the cum pooling on her tongue and sliding down her throat, hot and salty as she froze in place while his balls throbbed beneath her fingers. As his grip relaxed, she took him deeply in her mouth again, swallowing his load, purring against his dick, licking and sucking every last drop of cum from him as he gasped and twitched above her.

Carefully, Alice leaned back, tucking Michael's cock and balls back inside his boxers and slacks, with a smile on her face like a contented cat. She glanced up at him, winked, and then reached inside her dress to tuck her tit back into her bra covertly before she got up to sit in her own chair again. She reached over to pick up her whiskey and cola, taking a sip with a nonchalance that belied her throbbing cunt and her overwhelming urge to grab Michael and shove his face between her legs or drag the hem of her dress up and plunge her fingers into her sloppy wet pussy.