I told Patrick to clean himself up as I started to dress. It was already past eleven, and I still needed a hard dick in my pussy. Patrick could have serviced me, and for a brief moment, I considered letting him hammer his ten inch cock into me, but the whole point of this weekend was to drive him crazy with desire, and besides, I could fuck him any time I wanted. After eight years of marriage, I still could make him come whenever the mood struck me. And usually that was at least twice a day, sometimes more. But now, on this trip, I was in charge, and I intended to enjoy the situation to its fullest.
I knew what I was going to wear. I had brought several outfits for the weekend, and had planned the celebration very carefully. I spent a few minutes on my hair. It's a light shade of auburn, and the red highlights compliment my green eyes and lightly freckled complexion. I was in the bathroom, putting a few curlers in the area that was most in need, (Jabar had messed me up a little as he came in my mouth) and all the time thinking about Patrick in the other room. I had not told him to get dressed yet. He was in the bed room, on the other side of the door, naked, waiting for my instructions.
I picked up the remote control from the dressing table, and moved the dial to five. That was half way to full power. With a wicked smile, I placed my finger on the button that would activate the vibrating cock ring and butt plug my husband was wearing.
"Patrick, are you standing up?" I asked through the closed door.
"No, ma'am. Did you want me for something?"
"Yes. Come to the door, but don't come in."
I heard the bed springs as he stood up and padded over and stood just outside the bathroom door.
"Yes, ma'am?"
I put the remote control down. "Are you having a good time?"
"Now?" He asked.
"Yes. Now, and all evening. Are you having fun?"
"I...do you mean...well, yes, I am sort of enjoying myself. Ma'am."
I took the curlers out and began brushing my hair. As we talked through the closed bathroom door, I touched up my makeup. I don't wear a lot of stuff, mostly a little liner and some pancake, and of course, lipstick. My face was right, so I began to dress. First, the panties. Black is Patrick's favorite color, and I wanted him to enjoy this weekend. I slipped my legs into the lacy silk black panties. I don't know why I bothered. They have no crotch, and my pubic hair was peeking right out the middle. My pubes are darker than my other hair, and the blackness of the panties and the darkness of my pubic hair blended together. A man would need look closely to realize that my bush was exposed. Look closely or touch. And I knew that shortly, a man, some man, would be doing both.
"Oh, poor baby. You mean you're only 'sort of' enjoying yourself?"
"Oh, no. I mean, I am enjoying myself. It's just that...well, I really need to fuck you. Ma'am."
I had put on my garter belt by now, and was in the process of rolling my left stocking up my leg. I love wearing garters and stockings. There is something just so decadent about feeling the silk stockings as they unfurl and then connect to the garter snaps on the belt. I hadn't answered him after his last statement. I continued to dress, now pulling up the other stocking. The garter belt was framing my panty covered pussy, with a border of white silky skin over the top of my garter belt, and complimented with the exposed skin of my upper thighs, the area between the stocking tops and the panties. I ran my blood red fingernails over this area, this tender portion of my body! I was getting hot all over again.
My mind's eye could see Patrick on the other side of the door, standing there, his dick still imprisoned within the confines of his cock ring. I imagined his full balls, swelling with desire. I could close my eyes and see his hairy chest, his little nipples already firm with anticipation. Patrick loves to have me suck on his nipples. At first, when we start to make love, they are almost too sensitive to touch. They tickle. But once we get started, once I've had his cock in my mouth for a few moments, once I've run my tongue into his ass hole a few times, I reach up and catch his right nipple between my fingers, and begin to kneed it, to roll it around between my thumb and my first finger.
Once it becomes hard, I take my fingernail and run it inside the ridges of his nipples, raking it, and finally, I start to pinch it, to twist it. That's usually when I speed up my cock sucking. Dropping another inch or so down his hard dick, I usually will bare my teeth on his cock at this point. That's something he likes a lot! He enjoys the pain involved in a rough blow job. I will usually start to bite his cock harder as I twist his nipples harshly between my fingers. My other hand is usually working a finger into his ass hole by this time, and...and... Wait. I'm getting carried away.
At any rate, as I stand in the bathroom, I'm now almost ready to put on my dress. I thought about a bra. I have several, but I seldom wear them. My breasts are full, and very well shaped. I wear a 38DD cup, but they are firm and tight, and while it is obvious when I am braless, it is not because they sag, but rather because the nipples stand out almost a 3/4 of an inch from my breasts. Patrick speaks to me again. "Did I anger you by saying I want to fuck you?"
I remained silent. Fuck the bra. I removed the dress from the hanger. It is black, with a white lapel. It wraps around me, and fastens with two buttons at the waist. When I walk, I can make it open in the front, reveling as much of my legs as I wish. There are no other buttons or fasteners on the dress at all! Two buttons hold it closed. Two small buttons. And I only fastened one.
The shoes. I have three pairs of heels with me. One is black, with an open side, and open toe. They are about four inches and very shinny. Another pair, a bit higher, red satin, closed toes. Too conservative for the dress, but the color is flashy. Another pair. Black with white bows. Perfect, except they are only about two and a half inch heels. I try on all three pairs. My hand touches the dressing table for balance. I see the remote control again. This time, when I pick it up, I look at the closed door, the barrier between my husband and myself.
"Patrick?"
"Yes, ma'am?"
I push the button. I cannot hear the vibrating, but I can hear him gasp. I turn the dial. Six. Seven. Eight! I imagine him quivering, I imagine his cock rising to its full length, attaining its solid hardness. I let it continue as I slip into my shoes. The shinny black ones with the open sides and toes. And then I stop. That's enough for now. He can hear me through his sudden passion.
"Patrick?"
"Yes ma'am?"
"Did you come?"
"I'm very close. Do you want me to?"
"No. You may not come yet. Get dressed now. You have three minutes." I slip the controller inside my purse. The night is waiting!
We do not speak as we ride the elevator to the lobby. It stops on the tenth floor, and a very nice looking man gets in. He smiles at Patrick and myself. The door closes and the elevator starts down again. I open the skirt of my dress and adjust my stockings. The stranger watches. So does my husband. Neither say anything. I run my hand along the silk stocking, smoothing them out. I continue to run my hands along the top of the hose, and now over my naked thighs. And I stop when my fingertips touch the tip of my panties. I straighten up, my dress closes as quickly as it opens. The stranger doesn't know what to say, what to do. The elevator stops on the fifth floor. A woman enters. We all smile. As it descends again, I reach over to the stranger and remove his pen from his shirt pocket. I reach down and take his hand. Opening his palm, I simply write 1642 on his skin. I replace the pen in his pocket. The woman assumes I am with the stranger. That he is my husband, or my date. The elevator tops at the lobby, and Patrick and I step out. She is confused. And the stranger, the stranger only stands there, looking at his hand. Looking at the number I've written on it.