After leaving you at the bar with your "friend" Lexi, I head outside with my drink to a table on the patio. As I walk through the restaurant, crowded with MILFs and their mostly zero dates, I can feel that my boxers are wet from all the pre-cum that's dribbled out after each erection I've had while talking to you and surreptitiously looking at your sexy body. I sit so that I can see you at the bar.
I watch you as you talk to Lexi. You put on a good show, animated and friendly, laughing and touching her arm and leg with feigned affection. I can look at your amazing tits now, unencumbered by the fear of getting caught. I can mostly see them from the side, and they look glorious in that sexy top you chose. But they're too far away. I want to see them closer. I want to see them freed. I want to see them heave with your sighs and jiggle with your gasps. I want to touch them, and kiss them, and lick them. I want your hard nipples in my mouth. I have another erection. I feel like maybe I'm getting out of control of myself. I'm ogling and fantasyzing about a complete stranger I only met a few hours ago. I'm treating you like a piece of meat and I know you're so much more than that. But then I think that maybe, just for one night, you want to be a piece of meat. A hot piece of ass that has a stranger cuming in his pants just from talking to you. My erection grows stronger.
As I watch you and Lexi talk and touching each other, I imagine that it's more than just faked social cues of affection and respect. I imagine that you two have had a torrid affair in the past. I see you both passionately kissing as you rub your hands over each other's naked bodies. I see you locked in a 69, the smaller woman wriggling on top of you as you expertly eat her pussy out. Her flat, warm, muscular stomach is mashing against your tits, stimulating your nipples as she tongues your pussy and licks your clit. You're both moaning and gyrating as you try to pull each other further inside of you. I can smell the musky scent of pussy juice and hear the wet slurping of your frantic mouths. Then I see you sitting on the now sheetless bed, facing each other, legs scissored and entwined around each other as you grind your pussies together. The look on both of your faces is pure lust before you both fall back on the bed squirming and shuddering from a mutual, powerful orgasm. My dick is so hard now that I'm uncomfortable. I try to adjust myself in my seat, but it doesn't help. I'm afraid that when I stand up I'll have a large visible wet spot on my jeans.
I'm driving myself crazy. You're driving me crazy. I try to relax and reflect upon our conversation so far. You're shown yourself to be smart and unique. You're your own woman, which is really sexy. While that does tell me something about you, something I like a lot, I don't know all that much about who you are. What I do know, is that what I "know" about you is mostly made up in my head as I fill in all the holes with the information I want to be there. There's no denying that I am fascinated by you. I want to know you better, but I don't know if you want that. I don't know what you want, if anything. I'm not even sure if I'll talk to you again. Do I go back to the bar after Lexi leaves? What if she doesn't leave? Despite how much fun I've had talking to you, and how great it feels, I also feel all my old insecurities coming back up to the surface. I'm giddy and scared and horny as hell. I feel like I'm in high school again. It feels both wonderful and terrible. I feel powerful and vulnerable at the same time.
I decide to pull out my phone as a distraction, and to help relieve the pressure of my raging hard-on. After 10 or 15 minutes I look up and you're no longer at the bar. Lexi is gone too. I'm disappointed, sad really. I feel kind of like crying. I reach for my drink but realize it's empty. Should I get another one, or just go home and furiously masturbate thinking about you? Do I go back to the bar and try to make another hookup, or just sit here and see if any of those hot MILFs come to take a nibble? At least my hard-on is gone, and I don't see a wet spot on my pants. So, I got that going for me tonight.
"Excuse me, is this seat taken?"
I turn to see you standing over me with two fresh drinks. You look like an angel from heaven. My sadness bursts into joy and I smile hoping that I'm not looking to happy to see you again. Desperation is never a good look.
"No. Please join me," I say.
I notice you've reapplied your lipstick. You're holding your clutch in your arm so that it's pressing up against the side of your breast. You lean over to set down the glasses and I finally get a long drink of you breasts as you do. Instead of slaking my thirst however, it just makes it worse. I adjust my chair to more readily face you and now I can get a better look at you. Your about 5'4" but have three to four inch heels on. Your outfit, like you, is both cute and sexy. It's hard to tell with the loose skirt but you look to have a full, round ass that tapers down to a pair of sexy and shapely legs. Your heel straps go up past your ankles, highlighting how thin they are and how positively delicious your calves look. I want to run my finger tips over them. I want to lick them while your ankles are by my ears. You sit down and cross your legs so they're right in front of me.
"Thank you so much for that back there," you say, pointing over your shoulder at the bar with your thumb. You lean forward giving me another look at your breasts and you put your hand on my leg, briefly. "I really appreciate it. Ugh. She is really the worst gossip," you say as you lean back. "If she thought she saw me here with another man besides my...well it'd be all over the school by tomorrow morning." You take a drink before adding, "I don't really give a fuck what that fake bitch thinks of me, but I don't want to have to put up with all the other moms' hypocritical bullshit. And I especially don't want my kids to have to deal with it." You catch yourself and take a deep breath. "I'm sorry," you sigh. "Let's start over." I find that I like hearing you swear like this. It gives you a confidence and strength that's sexy and maybe a little aggressive.
"Well you certainly looked like you were enjoying your conversation."
You lean forward and turn your head to look in the restaurant so you can see my perspective. "You were watching me?" you ask with a smile.
"Ummm. Is there a way for me to say yes that doesn't sound creepy?"
"Nooo," you say, making a face that says you're suddenly uncomfortable.
"Uh. OK. Well, what happened was, I sat down here and found that my attention was repeatedly drawn towards your captivating beauty."
"Oh my. That's really good." You put down your drink and clap for me. "But now I'm thinking that you're an excellent liar."
I smile at you playing with me.
"It's the truth though. To be honest, I couldn't stop looking at you."
"Ohhhh," you say making a disappointed look. "Creepy again."
I laugh. "I don't think I can win this, can I?"
"Nope," you say taking a sip.
I laugh again. I can see your eyes smiling over the lip of your glass.
"To be honest in return," you reply setting down your drink again. "I couldn't see where you went, but I hoped you hadn't left, and I was wondering if you were watching me." You seem proud of yourself for commanding my full attention. You wave your hand back towards the bar to indicate a change of subject. "I've gotten really used to acting that way, living in this part of town. I hate it really. Everyone is so fake. But you gotta do what you gotta do to survive." You screw up your face in an incredibly adorable way. I laugh.
"So, um, I'm married," you tell me sheepishly. You hold up your hand with the big rock on it. "You probably guessed that." Neither of us has mentioned any partners up to this point, current or ex.
"I did." I hold up my hand with the wedding band on it. "Me too." I shrug sheepishly to match you.
You proceed to tell me about your husband and your unhappy marriage. You married after college when you found you were pregnant. You had another kid quickly after the first. But after two children you put on weight and your husband lost interest. He sounded to me like a type-A control freak. He spent all of his time working, which made him lots of money. That's what he cared about most. You had always suspected that he was banging his succession of young, hot personal assistants. You tried getting yourself back into shape to win his attention back, but he'd moved on. Finally, he got caught at a school auction event fucking one of the caterers in a closet. It was very humiliating and very public. You'd had enough and kicked him out. But you still weren't sure if you wanted to divorce him or not.
Now he had the kids for a week long trip to Disney World to buy back some of their love. But as usual he was only thinking with his wallet and his dick. You were pretty sure from talking to the kids that he'd brought a girlfriend on the trip too. He had enough sense to put her up in another room, but still, what a fuck up. And you were plenty pissed about it.
"It sounds like you have lots of reasons to be pissed. So is this the final straw?" I ask.
