"I have a surprise for you," Jason smiled over at me as we drove down the freeway.
"Another one?" I teased, laying my head on his shoulder and running my hand lightly up and down his thigh.
We were both eager for this date and the fact that we were actually getting to spend a substantial amount of time alone together. Can you call it a date when you are married? I think so. Spending every night together does not mean you don't need to get out of the house sometimes. Sounds like a definition of "date" to me.
This would be our first time away from the kids for more than a couple of hours at a time in two months. Getting a babysitter was the first unexpected surprise Jason had waiting for me when I got home from work that evening.
The next surprise was the fact that he had some clothes laid out for me on the bed. His choice was somewhat bizarre – low cut gold velour snakeskin tank top, short red knit skirt, black patent leather stiletto-heeled pumps and thigh high fishnet stockings. Hmmm.
I had to smile – I would certainly be thrown off the PTA Board if anyone saw me dressed up in this get-up - and fashion critic Blackwell would have a heart attack over the combination, but it let me know where Jason's mind was. We both knew that our sex life – while still passionate and very hot - was in serious danger of becoming routine, always in our king sized bed after the kids were asleep.
So he wanted to spice things up a little. I was certainly game.
I shooed him out of the bedroom and changed clothes, kicking the conservative gray suit and white silk blouse, crotchless pantyhose and gray leather low-heeled pumps off to the side of the bed on the floor without a second thought. I went into the bathroom and carefully brushed out my long traditional French braid and scrubbed my face clean. I redid my make-up; careful to over-do it with lots of black eyeliner and mascara to accentuate my eyes – Jason just loved my eyes. I finished off the look with a deep red lipstick and a black ribbon tying back my suddenly wild hair and looked at my reflection in the mirror with satisfaction.
Not bad. Waist length red hair rippled and wildly full from being tied up in a braid all day, relatively unlined deep blue eyes, provocative full lips, a light sprinkling of freckles across my nose.
I ran my hands from my neck down to my breasts, reveling in the feel of the velour snakeskin over the fullness of my heavy unencumbered tits. Since he hadn't set out a bra, I didn't put one on in the spirit of going along.
Hands smoothed down to my waist – finally back to normal after two kids, and over my full womanly hips. I lifted up the short skirt to make sure that my muff was neatly trimmed. Short black hair trimmed short enough to reveal plump pink nether lips. Perfect.
As a rule I never wear panties under dresses or skirts, even to work. It gave me a feeling of freedom and incredible secret sexiness, even in boardroom meetings where the bottom line being discussed was not my own bare bottom against the leather conference room chairs. Sometimes during long meetings as my sexual scent heated slowly from skin against leather, I watched the men closest as they paid more and more attention to me, until they were practically falling all over themselves in their eagerness to agree or do anything I suggested.
I don't think they knew consciously what I was doing, but on some primal level they slowly became aware of my sexuality, even under the conservative suits and braided hair. I used this power to my advantage many times when the men on the board were being excessively territorial and I wanted to bring them back to the subject at hand.
Manipulative? Probably. Unfair? Maybe. But our firm had seen a sharp upturn since I was made a board member, and the president had noted many times how my analysis and subsequent ideas had saved the company from making many questionable decisions in recent past. While I covertly used my sexuality to gain the power to get them to listen to me, I played it sly and subtle and consequently didn't have to sleep with anyone unpleasant to keep my spot, a still unfortunately common occurrence in the executive world.
I slipped on the obscenely high stiletto heels and took a few cautious steps. It has been a long time since I had worn heels this high. I walked around the room a bit to get used to the feel again. It wouldn't do to get to wherever Jason had planned to take me and have me trip all over myself first thing.
I pulled on a long ankle length black coat to cover my outfit from the babysitter and our neighbors' prying eyes. Have to keep up appearances of the nice conservative couple with the nicely kept yard and house. Wouldn't they all be surprised to know that Jason and I have published over a dozen pornographic novels and short stories and have posted nude photos over the Internet on our own adult web page!
I opened the bedroom door and slowly walked into the living room, where Jason waited, impatiently drumming his fingers on the arm of the couch and glassily listening to Kathy, the mousy dishwater blond woman from down the street talk brightly about potty training her son. She looked up at my approach and smiled hugely. She had a small hunk of bread caught in her rather large horse-y teeth.
"Monica, I was just telling Jason that little Seth went three whole hours without wetting himself. Isn't that wonderful?"
"Yes, Kathy, that is a true success story." I turned to Jason who looked me up and down in obvious disappointment until he saw my fishnet-covered ankles and the black patent leather heels from below the long coat. He smiled up at me and rose from the couch.
"Let's go, we don't want to be late!"
Kathy peered at me closely. "Wow, you sure do look different. Your hair is all teased up!"
"Just combed out from being in a braid all day, no teasing required." I turned away from her nosy little washed out brown eyes and opened the door.
How a hunky man like Cameron ended up with someone like her was beyond me. All she ever did was gossip about every person on the block and gab about how perfect her 18-month-old son was. Very boring. I mean, I love my kids, but my whole life doesn't revolve around their toilet habits for heaven's sake!
"Thanks again, Kathy. We may be back very late," Jason said as he closed the door behind him to forestall any other comment or questions.
"Whew!" We both signed in relief and laughed.
Jason grabbed my hand and pulled me toward his truck. I guess we weren't taking my car.
"Hey, wait, slow down!" I struggled to remain upright on the heels. "These things are four inches high. You don't want me to break my neck before the evening has even begun, do you?"
Jason slowed down and made a big show of opening the door and helping me in. My coat fell open and one fishnet-covered leg was revealed to its full length. He lightly caressed my leg, then grabbed the end of my coat and flipped it inside. He grinned at me, slammed the door and ran around to the driver's side.
