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From: the_panda@hotmail.com (Paris Waterman)
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NNTP-Posting-Date: 26 Sep 2003 17:54:12 GMT
Subject: {ASSM} Dinner and Then Some Chapter 3
Date: Fri, 26 Sep 2003 16:10:19 -0400
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Dinner and Then Some
By Guess and Paris Waterman
Copyright 2002


Chapter Three

Leigh was suddenly jolted back to reality. Michael's words had stopped
droning in her ears. By the skin of her teeth, she had barely managed
to stay abreast with the conversation. She nodded her head between
bites of the seafood dish that had just been served and threw in a few
words here and there, but once again found her eyes straying in the
direction of that mesmerizing couple as Michael sampled her plate.
Leigh hadn't noticed the woman leave the table. She wondered if should
she call her Marion? Then chastised herself for such a thought. But
then again, it was her own bizarre, little fantasy. While pondering
this line of thought, Leigh reached for her wineglass and took a sip
just as her eyes spotted the woman under the table!

My god, she thought, this is unbelievable! 

Sputtering, Leigh almost choked. 

"Leigh, darling, are you okay?" Michael asked, concern engraved on his
face.

"Uh huh, just went down the wrong way Michael," she replied, still
coughing while dabbing at her lips and chin. Satisfied things had
returned to normal, he offered her a taste of his pheasant, but Leigh
declined, using the excuse that she couldn't eat something that had
been alive earlier. Michael laughed at this, and countered with, "But
you're eating seafood which came from the sea and was, or had been a
living thing."

"It's not the same thing," she replied. 

"And you love hamburger." 

"Michael!" 

"All right, all right. Let's not spoil the evening." He changed the
subject and resumed telling her about the agenda of his forthcoming
seminar.

Once again only half listening, Leigh was drawn like a magnet back to
the couple's arrogant display. The woman's long, red nails were
running up and down his leg nearest the aisle. Leigh sat back and
gawked as the woman slowly slid down below the table. Talk about
chutzpah, she thought, I've never seen anything close to this, even
when I caught Wendy Zadanowitz blowing that football player back in
high school.

One thought led to the next and it wasn't long before Leigh's mind's
eye could perceive the woman's full, pouty, red lips wrapped tightly
around the "mystery man's" cock, sucking him off to sweet ecstasy. The
competitive part of her personality wondered if the woman was as good
as she at giving head.

'Naww, no way,' she quickly admonished herself. 'I give great head,'
Leigh thought, 'because I love playing with and sucking a man's dick,
pure and simple. And I drive poor Michael crazy when I do.' She
searched her memory and recalled the three other men in her life that
she had honored with her mouth and tongue. Yup, she concluded, all of
them had told her that she was the greatest. And Leigh smiled a secret
smile. Still, part of her wished her mouth was on the "mystery man"
right now.

Leigh discovered she was shocked at the thought. She had never cheated
on Michael. In fact, she'd never entertained the thought before. There
were times, she admitted to herself, she had looked at various men,
even wondered how good they were in bed; and several times she'd
masturbated using one of them to inspire her fantasy to its
conclusion. But she'd never actually lusted after one of them. Leigh
reinforced this recollection with the memory of Tom Hutchinson, a
handsome enough guy, who'd groped her at a cocktail party and how
she'd slapped his face in front of everyone. 'Naww, she didn't really
want to . . . '

Shoving her self-denials aside, Leigh's eye roamed back to her Mr.
Banning. He looked rather cool, calm and collected considering the
circumstances. Leigh emptied her wineglass and made an innocuous reply
to Michael, then glanced back at "him."

Just then "he" surprised her, for Leigh had thought Mr. Banning had
everything under control, now she noticed his right hand. Its fingers
tightly clutched the tall shot glass of tequila sitting before him. He
was squeezing it so hard Leigh wondered if the glass would shatter
beneath the whiteness of his knuckles. A moment later, his eyes rolled
back under fluttering lids. His teeth bit on his bottom lip.

'God,' Leigh thought, 'the look on his face was incredible. What an
orgasm he must be having.' Her mind was racing. 'Jesus, how did he
taste? Was his musk heady? Was he clean, without any sexually
transmitted disease? Did he have a curved cock or a straight one? Was
he cut or uncut?' Leigh felt herself growing wet and hoped she
wouldn't spot the chair she was sitting in, or worse, her dress. Thank
God it was black. Michael, she thought, God, what was Michael up to?

A surge of relief surged through her as she grasped the fact that
Michael was still caught up in his forthcoming seminar and still
talking to her. She paid attention to him for a moment just to keep up
the conversational flow, nodded at the appropriate part and said
something totally innocuous, before returning her attention to the
other couple.

Mr. Banning's dreamy eyes opened and met Leigh's. His lips parted. It
seemed to Leigh that he could read her thoughts. He stuck his tongue
out and wiggled it at her. Leigh formed a vivid image of its softness
on her clit. She flushed and became even warmer. She averted her eyes,
realizing that she was embarrassed, mesmerized and desperately wanted
him. 'What's wrong with me?' She wondered, fighting not to panic by
the emotions running riot through her body. For the first time in her
marriage she found herself desiring another man.

She risked another look in his direction. As if by magic, the woman
was sitting at his side. Leigh noted that while her hair was a bit
messed, not a speck of lipstick was out of place, and bit her lip as
she wondered what brand she used.

The other woman . . . Leigh caught herself --- 'I'm calling her the
other woman. Now that's a joke.' She felt her composure returning and
used it to make several mundane remarks to her husband.

When she was satisfied Michael was unaware of her voyeuristic
activities, Leigh returned her attention to the couple. The woman sat
there, feigning a coy, demure, smile. Looking sweet and rather
innocent. Leigh noted that the woman's eyes never left his. When, with
a dainty pinkie, she brushed across her lips wiping at the corner of
her mouth, Leigh's mouth went dry, was she tasting the last remains of
his seed?

With a tremor in her hand, Leigh reached for her wineglass and finding
it empty, put it back down. 'Now I've done it,' she told herself. 'I'm
thinking with my pussy.' Indeed her pussy was tingling with excitement
and Leigh experienced difficulty stifling a gasp as she felt the
wetness seeping into the crotch of her panties. She was grateful that
she had decided to wear them, even so she realized she might well
leave a telltale sign behind.

Recovering somewhat, Leigh found herself smiling as she watched her
Mr. Banning lift his rump up and lean back in his seat. Both his hands
disappeared under the table for a brief moment. Then he straightened
up just as their smiling waitress appeared with two coffees and a dish
of flan. Evidently the bitch must have forgotten to zip his fly. 'Did
I just refer to her as a bitch?' Leigh asked herself.

Michael's voice penetrated her consciousness.

"You know," he said with a loving smile, " I've been monopolizing the
conversation all evening my dear. You must have something to say, so
I'll shut up for a while." That said, he poured the last of the wine
into her glass and leaned back in his chair.

Leigh managed to focus her entire attention on him. "It's been fifteen
years," she said, looking at him fondly.

He hoisted his glass to her. "Glorious years, darling."

She arched her eyebrow. "Oh, really? Here's a test. Do you recall the
first time?"

He pursed his lips in thought, then grinned at her. "Sure do," he said
smugly. "But who's testing who here?"

"Whatever do you mean?"

"First would you like more wine? I can order another bottle."

"No. No thank you. I've had enough to . . ."

"To what?" He smiled knowingly.

Leigh paused, frantically forcing herself not to look toward the
"mystery man."

"To, err, stimulate me later."

"Really?" Michael dabbed at his mouth with his napkin.

Leigh dug a fingernail into her thigh. She wanted to peek over there
so badly.

"Okay," he said, "I'll give in. My parents had left us alone for the
weekend. Remember the note?"

Leigh laughed. She did recall the note. "Yes, she left explicit
instructions for you on how and when to water her flowers and shrubs."

"And?" Michael prodded, laughing once again at foolish he'd been back
then.

"And then, with the house all to ourselves, you took advantage of me.
And in the process forgot all about the watering business."

The waitress appeared at their table, took their desert order and
left, promising to return promptly.

"You seduced me Leigh," he said seriously.

Giggling, she reached for her wineglass, realized it was empty and
picked up the water glass, and drank.

"As I recall, you grabbed me as soon as we were in the door," Michael
said as if he'd trumped her at cards.

"What a tramp I was," she giggled again and caught herself thinking
that the other couple might be watching her now, and took satisfaction
in the thought.

"I never considered you anything of the sort," he said seriously.

"Oh, darling, I know that. But I was a bit sluttish wasn't I?"

"Hmmmm, perhaps. You certainly acted as if you knew what you were
doing."

"Me?"

"Well, I'd had very little experience in matters of seduction, back
then."

"Oh, you've been practicing your seduction techniques of late?"

Michael became flustered. "No, no! Only with you, only you."

She burst out laughing at the chagrined expression on his face. 

"I'm teasing you, you big lug! But, seriously, when's the last time we
did it two nights in a row?"

The waitress reappeared and set about placing their deserts in front
of them, poured two coffees and departed.

"Well, you know how busy I've been . . ."

"I know. Still . . ."

"Let me tell you one thing Leigh."

"Yes?"

"I've been wanting you all day."

"Since watching me pee?"

"Maybe. Perhaps it was even earlier in the day."

She decided to tease him further. "Do you know what I'm wearing under
this dress?"

"I'd hesitate to guess, but . . . nothing?"

She smiled lewdly at him. "A sexy garter belt over skimpy lace
panties."

"Ohhhh!" He formed an image of her standing in front of him, one foot
raised up on a chair, clad only in a garter belt and squirmed in his
chair.

"Getting hard, Lover?"

"Very much so." His voice had gone dry and he reached for his water
glass.

"Perhaps we can fool around in the limo on the way home."

Michael turned serious. "I'd like to, but I don't think so. The driver
. . . you know how rumors start."

"It wouldn't be a rumor," Leigh smirked.

"You know what I mean," he stammered nervously. He dropped his napkin
on the table. "Excuse me, I've got to go. I'll be right back.

Leigh snorted trying to suppress her laughter as he rose from the
table endeavoring to cover the protrusion in his trousers.

"It's not funny, dear," he managed, and he sat back down.

"Wait a moment or two for it to subside," she said and forced herself
not to laugh at his awkward situation, 'after all,' she thought, 'my
underwear is saturated. I'm afraid to get up myself.'

They sat there waiting quietly as the bus boy cleared their table then
Michael coughed, got up and walked to the men's room.

Leigh took out her compact and checked her makeup and her mind
wandered back to the couple in their hotel room.

-- 
Pursuant to the Berne Convention, this work is copyright with all rights
reserved by its author unless explicitly indicated.
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