AUTHOR'S NOTE: This is the first erotic series I ever wrote, back in 2005-7, long before posting my first story. I have revised and edited (hopefully well) the chapters, but they are pretty much as they were when I wrote them. It is the story of a married couple in love and exploring a new version of their relationship. It is a fairly long series, although some of the chapters are quite short.
You may want to read Chapter One to get the premise, although the story has progressed quite a bit from its beginnings. Thanks to all the readers who have stuck with the tale, and voted.
Civil comments always welcome.
"You're already the most beautiful woman there. The dress will only make sure that everyone knows it."
"Gown."
"What?"
"It's a gown, hon. Not a dress." Despite his fashion gaffe, she knew he was sincere, and that he loved her, and she loved him.
That was an hour ago. They'd driven to the hotel early, gotten a room, and dressed in the room. They were staying over, and didn't have to watch what they drank. Despite the fact that the party was a stuffy affair (some sort of ancillary industry function that they didn't know anyone at), it was a swanky affair, and they planned to enjoy it. Now dressed, they walked into the room to see a throng of similarly well-dressed people milling and wait staff mingling with trays of food and champagne.
She had to admit that he was right about the gown. Black, full length and flowing, it was off the shoulder with a low neckline, just short of seductive. The waist pinched and the hips flowed, and it moved on her like a living thing. She almost felt as beautiful as she knew he saw her. John never tired of seeing her, looking at her, admiring her. She loved his attention, and she loved him. And she loved looking at him, too. After all these years of marriage they were still infatuated like a first date. Tonight John was handsome and sexy in a black tuxedo, dignified with a quiet understated style. As they strode together into the room, more than a few heads turned. She wondered who was looking at whom. She took his arm, marking her man, and held her head high.
Two hours later dinner was being served. She took his arm and pulled him to their table. They were sitting with people they didn't know, and after introductions she knew they would not spend much time with them. As she spread her napkin in her lap, she decided that this would be a good time to tell him. He sat, and in a dignified manner she put her hand on his arm and leaned to his ear.
"Darling," she whispered in his ear, watching to see if anyone was listening, "I've had a vibrating egg in my pussy all night. In the last hour I starting turning it up higher. I may need to cum very soon."
He turned to her, trying not to be flustered and surprised. A large grin split his face.
For the next hour they made small talk, dragged into polite conversation with the forgettable people at the table. She took every opportunity to work words like 'vibrate', 'wet' and 'stimulate' into the conversation, and use phrases like 'turning it higher' and 'losing control', and once even 'spurting geyser'. She would always throw surreptitious glances at him, knowing that he was thinking about the vibrating egg humming in her pussy. Fortunately it blocked the juices from flowing out of her, and she'd had the foresight to actually wear panties tonight. Still, they were probably soaked.
The champagne kept coming, and they kept sipping. She could see that John couldn't concentrate on the conversation; he kept asking everyone to repeat questions they had asked him. Of course, every time he tried to answer, she would run her foot up his leg, or announce that she found the subject 'stimulating', or something else to distract him.
One woman, a proper and well-mannered (stuck up and stiff?) youngish brunette named Muriel kept looking at her, even when she wasn't dropping subtle sexual innuendos. Lena wondered if Muriel was pissed off, confused, shocked, interested or turned on. But she really didn't care. Lena was turned on, and by now was so turned on that she could give a shit about what anyone else thought. She needed to cum.
She reached to the controller tucked into her stocking top, and pushed the switch a little higher. She could swear that she could hear the humming, but she knew it was just her imagination. She turned to John, who was mid-sentence about some meaningless subject or other. "John, dear, I need to get up and stretch a bit. Would you mind?" She batted her eyes at him, and he excused himself and stood to pull her chair out. She stood, excused herself, and linked her arm in John's as they went to the door.
"John, dear, I am a little tipsy, from all the champagne," she said, inclining her head to him as they slowly walked. "And of course I am a little over-stimulated from the egg humming in my box." She smiled, politely. Anyone seeing them talk would think they were discussing some meaningless society topic. "But mostly dear," she said as they went through the door into the mostly empty entrance hallway, "I am dying to cum. My orgasm is fairly close." She looked to see no one within earshot. "I would really love it if you could find us a nice quiet place around here so I could pull up my gown and watch you lick my sweet pussy until I cum into your mouth!"
They took a side exit, walking around the corner of the hotel, finding a secluded outdoor seating area on the hotel grounds, near some foliage. Lena gave him a huge smile, found a convenient table, and reached into her small purse to remove a cloth napkin she had taken from the table. She laid it flat on the edge of the table, turned back to face him, then bent to grab the bottom of her gown. Cautiously she bunched it, careful not to wrinkle it, until she had exposed her stockinged legs and panties. Lifting the back up over her ass, she rested her firm ass cheeks on the edge of the table. She took the controller out of her stocking top, turned it off. Then she lifted her ass a little, pulling her panties down off her hips, letting them slide down to her feet and stepping out of them. John picked them up, fingered the damp crotch with a lascivious grin, and placed them next to her on the table. Then he watched as she spread her legs and slowly, slowly, pulled a two-inch long and almost as wide smooth white egg vibe out of her pussy. He watched the lips part, stretch, and spread to allow the object to pass out. His eyes came to hers, and he heard her say, "Lick my wet pussy. Lick me till I cum."
