An Anniversary Dinner

We sat in the restaurant, I in my twice-a-year tuxedo and her in a tiny black dress which left her delicate shoulders exposed and plunged deeply into her perfect cleavage. I couldn't remember seeing it before, but it had clearly succumbed to her own personal aura and turned, as her clothes so often seem to do, into the Sexiest Thing Ever. It was our second anniversary dinner, and I wasn't hoping to get lucky. I already was lucky.

She pulled my eyes from the sweep of her collarbone with a raised glass.

"To us," she said, and we clinked and drank, perhaps a little too deeply.

She raised her other hand and contorted it into the Vulcan salute. "Live long," she intoned, "and prosper."

I chuckled. "What a nerd."

She giggled, then turned her hand sideways. "I love how dirty this is," she said, giving the air a few lewd thrusts.

"You're incorrigible."

"I'm not nearly drunk enough for that kind of language," she said, and leaned back in her chair, tilting her head to finish the last of her wine.

The movement of her throat muscles mesmerized me as I watched her swallow, and I almost jumped when her foot brushed against my shin under the table. She'd slipped her sandal off, and I could feel the soft warmth of her flesh through the thin fabric of my pants as she toed her way up my leg.

She caught my eye over the top of her empty glass and held it, mouth turned up into an unutterable smirk. My pulse surged into my throat and my cock, already starting to flush, gave a joyful little leap in my pants.

Her foot kept going. I raised my own wine to my lips, trying to play it cool.

I took a sip.

She attacked, her foot surging up to my groin like some kind of fleshy sandworm. I hardened even as I inhaled a mouthful of Merlot. She continued to smirk as she watched me collapse into a fit of choked coughing, then she stood up and made her way around the table. A waitress stopped, looking concerned.

"Is he alright?"

"He'll be fine. Can we use your bathroom real quick?"

The other diners were starting to stare. I couldn't catch my breath.

"Of course, it's right down the hall. Do you need any help, or..."

"No, thanks. We'll just be a minute."

She helped me down the hall and into the bathroom, where I spent the next few minutes hacking over a marble sink. Finally, I caught my breath and looked up. I caught my own face, beet red, in the mirror, then saw her standing behind me, still smirking.

"All better?" She asked, voice soft and sultry.

"Yes," I croaked. "You're terrible."

She reached over to the door with measured intent and clicked the lock closed with an air of finality. When she spoke, it was in a deep, faux-Russian accent.

"But now I haff you right vere I vant you."

"What is this, Bond now? I thought we were still on Star Trek."

"In that case, Captain," she paused and stepped closer, hips swaying, then swooned into my arms, forearm draped theatrically over her brow. "Teach me of your Earthling 'love'."

"Right here?" I glanced around. It was clean and fancy, but still a bathroom. She caught my eye in the mirror.

"Right here. Right now."

"You are a dirty girl."

"Then fuck me like one."

I pulled her upright and kissed her, and she responded forcefully, pushing my lips apart and sliding her tongue deep into my mouth. Her hand circled around to grasp at my hair and she mashed her lips into mine. I slid my hand down her back and over her ass, all the way to the back of her bare thighs.

The feel of her skin against mine electrified me. I realized my cock was rock hard and throbbing against the tight fabric of my pants, and she must have realized it too, because she broke away and ran her hand quickly down my chest to free it. There was little delicacy and much urgency. We both needed a fucking, and we didn't have much time.

She yanked down my pants and pulled my cock out of my boxers with a grin. My hands slid up from her thighs to her breasts, and I squeezed them through her dress. I could just feel her erect nipples through the fabric. I wanted desperately to kiss them, run my tongue over them and suck them roughly into my mouth, letting her feel my teeth on her sensitive skin, but there was no way to get at them without ruining the careful arrangement of her strapless dress. I growled in frustration and bit her earlobe. A little too hard, perhaps. She gasped and her hands convulsed around my cock.

It was too much. I needed to be inside her, to fuck her like the perfect, horny little bitch she was.

I pulled away, too quickly for her to follow, and spun her around by the shoulders. I forced her a step forward, pushing her hips into the counter and bending her over until her face almost touched the mirror. One hand went to the back of her neck, gathering up a fistful of her long hair, and pulling her head back. I locked her gaze in the mirror and held it while I ran my other hand down and down and down, then up the skin of her thigh, up under the fabric of her dress.

Her thin cotton panties were already soaked. I brushed my hand lightly over her swollen mound, and she moaned.

Loudly. That wouldn't do.

I released her hair and pulled her underwear down over the smooth curve of her thighs, calves. She obligingly lifted one foot, then the other, and I crumpled the cloth in on hand while the other ran back up the inside of one leg and straight to her slit, burning hot and sopping wet and already slightly parted. She arched her back, eyes closed as I slid my finger through her wet folds, but as she opened her mouth for another moan, I forced the balled-up panties right between her teeth. Her eyes flew open and I smirked at her in the mirror.

A little bit of payback goes a long way.

Her eyes twinkled at me knowingly, but when my finger found her engorged clit they crinkled shut again and she bit down hard on the soggy cloth. I kept up the pressure, running my finger in circles around her hard button while my other hand slipped from her mouth to her throat. I held her head up and leaned forward until my lips brushed against her ear.

"Like that, do you?" My voice was the barest whisper, but she nodded, as vigorously as one can while being held by the throat.

"Goddamn, you are a horny bitch, aren't you."

The head of my cock had worked its way through her wet folds and now rested at the cusp of her steaming cunt.

"You want that cock in your pussy?"

She nodded again, her head fluttering up and down in my grasp. She bared her teeth at me in the mirror, sharp and white around her macerated panties, and I thrust forward carefully, pushing just the tip of my cock through her tight opening. She groaned, a desperate, almost subsonic mating call that I could feel in my fingers through her soft skin.

It was all I could take.

I forced myself into her, one long thrust that slapped my balls up against the hood of her clit. She gasped, loud even through the cloth in her mouth. Her hips bucked back, forcing me even deeper into her. Her eyes shot open. We locked our gaze in the mirror and held it as I fucked her, an accellerando of hard, deep thrusts and soft muffled gasps. I could feel myself building towards a climax, but I held on. I could tell from the increasingly ragged rhythm of her breath, the racing of her pulse under my fingers, that she was building, too.

I squeezed her throat ever so slightly and slid my other hand up her thigh, across the firm flesh of her ass, and then down into the cleft between her cheeks. My thumb came to rest against her puckered asshole, and I began to press against it rhythmically. She moaned and thrust back towards me, wriggling encouragingly against my probing thumb.

Her asshole softened quickly at the pressure, and I felt her keen softly in anticipation as I switched my thumb out for a long middle finger. I knew she was on the edge, and I didn't keep her waiting. I thrust my finger into her, down and down into her tight asshole, relishing the feel of my own knuckle pressing into my cock through the thin walls of her pussy.

She froze, locked in a breathless muscular rigor as her release rushed through her. Her cunt clutched at my cock like a giant fist, and I groaned as she pulsed around me. I thrust again, again, driving the entire length of my cock into her spasming cunt with animal determination, and her whole body shuddered with each blow. Then I buried myself in her one last time and my orgasm hit me.

I came violently, semen raging through my cock like molten metal, pumping and pumping as she milked me for every last drop of hot cum. Finally, the flood subsided, and we both collapsed forward onto the countertop, panting as our respective sexes went through their final twitching throes. She turned her head to rest her cheek on the cool stone, and I kissed her earlobe gently.

"I love you," I whispered.

"I know."

We left the bathroom flushed and unmistakably glowing. The waitress stood in the hall, looking vaguely concerned and vaguely amused.

"Is everything alright?" asked the waitress; a formality, since the answer was obvious.

"Yes, we're fine now," said my wife. "Just got a little bit down the wrong pipe is all." She smirked that little smirk of hers.

Somehow, my face flushed even redder.

The waitress, thankfully, had the grace to say nothing at all.