Every summer for several years we've attended my husband's office party, enjoying the food, drinks and many laughs. Being a medium-to-large company, it brings together co-workers that don't normally have the time or opportunity to interact on a regular basis. It's an adults-only event -- nice to have a 'date night' without children -- and held on a Friday at a posh golf club of which senior managers are members.
For Steve and myself, it's good to sample such rare surroundings less than an hour's drive from where we live. Guests sit at round tables, making it easy to carry on conversations between ten or a dozen people, and this year David, an upper-middle manager, was at our table.
We'd socialised with David at previous company gatherings and, though they work in different departments, Steve and David regularly run into each other for projects. David is a good-looking mid-50s black man, who runs marathons and has a fun sense of humour. It's easy to forget he's about twenty years older than me.
The seating arrangements were usually for partners to sit together but this time the girl/boy/girl/boy arrangement was different. Instead of Steve sitting next to me, I had David to my left, Sherry on his left, and then Steve on her left. I can't now recall who sat to my right -- but you'll probably understand that lapse very shortly.
We had a good crowd on the table; lots of funny stories, ribbing each other -- and plenty of drinks. Drinking was not a problem as the company supplied buses from each office to the golf club and back again at the end of the night. Like most people, we hired a cab to get home from the office car park and, with our children sleeping at their grandparents, we didn't need to be home at a certain time.
It was quite late when that particular evening took a strange turn for me.
Having enjoyed the meal but certainly not finished drinking, a lively conversation was going on to my left involving David, Sherry, Steve, and a few other guests. I turned left in my chair and leaned in to catch the ongoing funny story. Wanting to get my voice heard above the loud banter and laughter, I leaned further across and put both my hands on David's right thigh.
Having supplied my input, I sat back a little but left my hands on David's leg. It was then that I realised I was not feeling his thigh under my left palm but the head of his cock. I vividly remember that my first thought wasn't 'Move your hand away' but 'Oh my god, this thing is big.'
When I eventually moved my hands into my lap, I glanced at David and saw light amusement in his eyes. I guess we both thought 'That was unexpected' or something similar.
As the laughter and banter continued, my mind was stuck on David's cock. I was actually stunned and questioned myself: Did I really feel what I think I felt? If so, was it really that big? I wanted to look down and see if there was a giveaway outline against his pants, but I didn't think I could achieve that without being noticed.
Even so, I couldn't shake off my curiosity.
I swallowed hard, built up my courage, and leaned forward again, returning both hands to David's leg. Don't get me wrong, I've always been happy with my marriage and never entertained being unfaithful to Steve. But, right there and then, the brief contact of my palm against the end of David's cock, had ignited a curiosity too powerful to dismiss.
Looking back, I suppose I was fuelled by the alcohol in my system. Whatever the cause, I had to feel it again. I convinced myself that it wouldn't be a serious breach of Steve's faith -- after all, I'd be touching it outside David's pants, not his actual flesh. The initial touch had been accidental... and I simply wanted to know if it was as big as it seemed.
Leaning close to the table, my hands were out of view. While I pretended to be listening intently and seemingly poised to make a comment, I again found the tip of David's cock with my left hand. I somehow managed to maintain an innocent expression and followed what people were saying, but I was totally aware of David's prominent cock head.
Where it was positioned on his thigh, his cock was obviously very long, and the head beneath my palm felt much larger than any other I'd touched.
I wasn't a virgin when I married Steve. I'd had a few experiences and Steve's cock is plenty big enough to satisfy me. But what I felt that night was so much bigger than any man I'd felt. No doubt that's why I took liberties, feeling up David at a dinner table in a room full of people. It was completely out of character -- not the person I am. I'm happily married, love our children, have a job I like, and totally enjoy my respectable life.
Suddenly, afraid of being caught, I slid my hand back into my lap. I then noticed something else about myself: I was wet.
I was wearing a button-up long-sleeve lady's Oxford-style shirt, a black plaid circle skirt, and a lace bra/panty set, plus my husband's favourite stockings and suspenders. One personal feature I must share is that I stand about five-seven, but my legs are long in proportion to my body. I love to wear skirts like my black plaid circle skirt: it sits high up on my thighs, enhancing my long legs, but not looking trashy or slutty.
My underwear set that night was open lace in a light lavender colour. The panties -- small triangles in the front and back -- were a snug fit, riding a little up my crack and showing off my ass cheeks. Steve loves these sets, but at that moment, I was not thinking about him or reflecting that what I'd done was wrong. I was shocked at how wet I felt between my legs and how quickly I'd gotten into such a state.
Damn, all this must stop.
But, as those words ran through my mind, David said something that I couldn't hear over the table laughter. He then grabbed my chair, pulled it closer to him, and leaned in to tell me the joke I'd missed.
When he turned away to rejoin the conversation, he guided my hand under the table and placed it on his upper right thigh. There, like an out-of-body experience, I felt the heat along a pronounced silhouette. With my fingers, I followed the outline of this man's covered shaft. I, a married woman, was running fingers along the immense length of David's cock. Shameless!
For the rest of the evening, as we sat telling stories, drinking, and poking gentle fun at each other, I would frequently reach under the table to feel his impressive cock. It would enlarge at my touch, impressing the hell out of me with its size. Even through the fabric of his underpants and trousers, I could feel a thick vein as he stiffened.
