As usual, Bernie arrived before Joe. She went to the window and looked out at the Cape Fear River. Traffic was at a standstill on the bridge. There were plenty of pedestrians strolling along Water Street, many of them going in and out of the Cotton Exchange.
Her voyeuristic fetish bubbled to the surface. Maybe I'll give all you little people a thrill and have Joe do me in front of the window.... Bernie pressed her groin into the cool glass then pretended she was fucking her man, not caring a whit if anyone glanced up and saw her.
She glanced at her wristwatch, Damn, I'm cutting it close. I better get ready.
She strode directly to the bathroom and stripped, carefully hanging her clothing on hangers in the adjoining bedroom. She showered, paying careful attention to cleaning her pussy, which was already wet with her excitement at meeting him again.
After toweling herself dry, she went to the small dresser next to the bed, removed several items and placed them on the bed. She selected a pair of white stockings and went back into the bathroom to put them on. Rolling a stocking up, she placed her left leg on the tub and carefully drew the stocking up her leg, worrying that she might snag it. When it was in place, she repeated the process with the other leg, and smoothed the silken material down with her hand, eliminating any possible wrinkles in the hose.
Returning to the bedroom, Bernie pulled a sheer white top over her breasts, checked herself in the mirror, and fluffed her hair until it appeared just right to her practiced eye. The phone rang, and she answered it. It was Joe telling her he was only five minutes away.
Almost running back to the bathroom, Bernie removed a pink object from her purse, put it into her mouth, wet it, and then with one foot on the toilet for balance, carefully worked it into her rectum.
Just as she finished with the butt plug, she heard Joe enter the apartment and call her name.
"I'm in here, Joe," she replied. "Make yourself comfortable, I'll be right out."
Glancing in the mirror, Bernie decided a bra was in order, and quickly slipped one on. Hurrying, for Joe, she stepped into a tight, filmy, white dress, put on a matching pair of white shoes and went out to greet him.
They embraced in the foyer, and he handed her a colorful bouquet of mixed flowers, and pointed to a bottle of champagne that he'd already placed on the kitchen table.
"I think we'll enjoy some bubbly along with our afternoon delight," he said.
A lewd smile crossed her face. "Sounds wonderful, Joe. Oh, and I've just had a thought on how we can use it to celebrate."
"Bernie," he said, looking her up and down, "You really look good. I'm excited to see you."
Bernie flashed him a winsome smile, and noted the erection pushing out against his trousers. A tingle shot through her body the likes of which she hadn't felt in some time.
Joe sat down and pulled her onto his lap. The requisite, "How has your day been?" conversation ensued until he stopped in mid-sentence. "Do you know how beautiful you are?"
He was dead serious.
Bernie knew it, and thought: This is the guy who's married to my best friend and he loves me.
Reaching under her, Bernie located his hardon and gave it a friendly squeeze.
"First things first, Bernie, my sweet," understanding him, Bernie rose up and stood by his side as he took out his cell phone. She spent the next sixty seconds rubbing her thigh as he told his wife he was meeting a client and would be home early. A discussion on who would pick up their daughter from pre-school and dinner plans followed.
Bernie reached out and took his free hand in hers, and got a smile from Joe. Eventually he hung up with, "I love you, baby."
Bernie smiled. Joe smiled back at her and leaning in to kiss her, said, "And I love you too, baby."
Bernie was not jealous in the slightest. Marital infidelity had both benefits and drawbacks, and she was very much aware of both. She was also aware that he felt a certain amount of guilt in being with her which caused him to punish her for no apparent reason.
"But you're a horny little slut, aren't you? Posing by the window for all the people out there?"
Bernie colored slightly, and then nodded her head. "But how did you know?"
"I saw you from the street."
"Did you! Did anyone...."
"No one else thought to look up when I did. I would have heard them gasping at your actions."
Bernie laughed delightedly.
Joe waved his hand dismissively. "Go over to the table and rub yourself against it."
She hesitated for a moment then pressed her crotch up against the corner of the table and started to rub, pushing the hard wooden point in between her legs.
"Don't you wish people could see you now?" She kept rubbing against the table, and did not answer him. He let this go on for a while before telling her to stop.
Bernie couldn't meet his eyes, but came to stand next to him, like a pet dog.
"You're a horny little cunt to hump the furniture like that." Bernie said nothing. She waited patiently. Sometimes he got this way, ordering her around, humiliating her. But it was worth it. He was worth it as far as she was concerned.
He held out the index finger of his right hand, parallel to the floor, just below the level of her groin. "Lift up your dress and rub against this."
Bernie edged closer and pressed herself against his finger, knowing he wanted to slip it inside her. To accommodate him, she bent her knees slightly, but still had to maneuver about until his finger was properly aligned. She felt a quaking thrill when it slid into her.
After moving the finger about and getting thoroughly wet, he removed it, and walked away.
"Joe!" her voice was full of emotion.
He replied by grabbing her hair and pulling her to his mouth. His kiss was so good that Bernie dissolved into him. When their lips parted, she moaned, "You are screwing up my breathing."
"That's my intention," he laughed. They kissed again, and when it ended he asked, "Is the plug in?"
"Of course it is."
Joe spun her around, and lifted the filmy white dress over her ass to see for himself, then rubbed his hand tenderly over her ass.
"You could have seen the plug without lifting the dress," Bernie said with the beginnings of a smirk.
"I know, but I love looking at your ass, lover," he said sitting down on the sofa.
"And I love your loving it, baby," Bernie answered flippantly, then walked over to the flowers he'd brought and carefully placed them in a vase, took a step back to admire them, and turned back to him.
She took him in, he was fully dressed in a pinstripe suit, with a power tie and wingtip shoes, impeccably shined. While she stared at him, Joe got up, poured himself a scotch, drank it in one gulp and sat back down, and beckoned her to him.
Bernie glided over to him, humming a show tune she had picked up the previous week when visiting New York City.
"Bend over," he said.
