"Damn, you are absolutely the sexiest damn MILF I've ever seen!"
I smiled at those words coming from none other than my own loving husband as he sat on the edge of the couch admiring me as I made my entrance into our small living room.
"So I take it that you like my new dress?"
OK, so I was fishing for compliments but why not? After all, I already KNEW he loved it simply from the way his eyes roamed up and down mentally undressing me as they went from my five-inch heels, up my legs to where my stocking tops were barely concealed by the lacy hem of my short dress. A pause as he took in my ass, clearly outlined by the tight thin fabric of my dress. My thong was so small it could barely be seen while higher up my brown hard nipples showed through prominently without any liner or bra to conceal them. Then again, with a neckline plunging so low and the sides cut so sharply it wasn't like much of my boobs were hidden in the first place. Although they weren't as large as I knew my husband wished they were, I was still rewarded with his eyes fixated on them such that anything from my neck upwards barely got any attention - which was a shame given the charge he'd be seeing on the credit card for the hair styling I'd just had done earlier in the day.
"You know... I'll never figure out how you even get those dresses on," he joked with me, "Some sort of magical textured paint?"
I couldn't help but roll my eyes at this well-worn joke of his that he never seemed to tire of telling me. He loved all of my tight outfits - the tighter and skimpier the better so far as he was concerned. As yes, this particular dress wasn't the easiest to squeeze into and I did feel somewhat like I was going to split it open any second but the sales girl swore it was designed to stretch without breaking so I'd have to depend on her word on the matter.
Steve nodded at my legs saying, "Those stocking really do it for you... they make your legs look so long and I love how the tops just barely come up to your dress."
Like most women, I'm not a big fan of pantyhose or stockings. There's really only two reasons for wearing pantyhose - first, keeping your legs warm in winter without having to wear pants. Maybe not the most protection in the world but definitely better than bare legs! Then secondly, and the reason most women wear them, is to make my legs look better. Thus if it was always decent weather and nobody ever saw me, I'd never wear the damn things but unfortunately that's far more the exception rather than the rule.
This particular pair were sheer black and thin enough that it was more like they were superimposed over my legs rather than hiding them. The elastic band on top that was keeping them from falling down my thigh was decorated with pretty black lace. With my open-toe heels I'd chosen a style without the heavy black toe but then I wasn't exactly worried about durability as the life expectancy for this pair was being measured in hours, not days.
"I see you're wearing his ankle bracelet," Steve observed.
Indeed I was wearing my Christmas gift from my daddy given way back in my teenage years It had to cost him a fortune back then and I've always worried it was going to get caught accidentally and come off when I wasn't paying attention but after all these years it's still intact.
"Yes but I have YOUR necklace," I soothed his precious ego as my hand went to the sparkling cross hanging by a gold chain around my neck. It was diamond studded and I loved the way it caught the light and shown like a beacon. It was my favorite piece of jewelry and rarely did it leave my neck.
"And don't forget this," I added, holding up my left hand to show off the wedding and engagement rings he'd given me. These NEVER came off no matter what I was doing. It kills me just to take them off long enough to be cleaned and checked by our local jeweler. Just because I was planning on having sex with another man tonight didn't mean I was going to remove my rings. If anything it meant all the more to me TO wear them in such circumstances.
Stepping carefully so as not to trip over my own two feet, I stood in front of my loving husband and twirled on one foot.
"God I'm going to miss you tonight," he groaned as he positioned himself on the couch to allow his swelling dick room to expand.
"Well, that's YOUR fault," I reminded him all too quickly, "Aunt Linda said she'd watch the girls if you wanted to fuck Kristi tonight but noooooo, you had to play the martyr. And what's with that anyways? Sheesh, I can remember when you'd jump at any chance to do my cousin."
Indeed, Steve DID normally seek out any chance he could get to fuck my slutty cousin who was about two years younger than me. Back when she was a high-paid prostitute he seemed to avoid her more but ever since she'd hung up her transparent heels (figuratively) he put all that behind them and it was back to the old days again. Then Kristi married this creepy guy who had been a client of hers and during that time Steve again seemed to avoid her. None of us could figure it all out though and frankly it didn't surprise any of us when she finally divorced him a few months ago.
"Hey, since when is it wrong for a guy to just stay home and jerk off to some porn while his wife's out screwing another guy?" he asked me teasingly.
"Well, the fact that you EVER have to jerk off is nobody's fault but your own you know."
Steve just shrugged his shoulders and ignored me, or at least pretended to. Sitting on his lap, I leaned into him and put my arm around his neck and then kissed him on the mouth, our tongues quickly emerging to touch the other. Mmmmmmm, I loved to kiss my sexy husband! Then it was like an almost automatic reaction as his hand started to work its way up under the hemline of my dress.
"No no no... you know better," I admonished him playfully as I swatted his hand back, "I want to be nice and fresh for later tonight."
"Well, then you'd better not be fresh when you get back home then," he muttered almost sullenly.
It may have sounded weird but I knew what he meant. Steve LOVED to watch me be fucked by other men and if he couldn't watch, then at least he expected to smell the sex on me when I returned. As his wife, he knew that what other men dreamed of and if they were lucky, got to experience for a few hours, was HIS anytime and anyplace he wanted it. Yep, if there was one thing I was guaranteed after going out tonight it was I'd be getting one hell of a fuck from Steve on my return. It was almost like he couldn't wait reclaim what was rightfully his, like a dog marking his territory after being invaded by another male.
"You know... I COULD call and cancel and I just happen to know that Aunt Linda's available tonight. We could even go out first if that's what you want seeing as how I'm all dressed already."
Steve shook his head firmly as his hand rubbed along the inner part of my upper thigh through my hose.
