Friday Night Heat

The rain was a relentless percussion against the tinted windows of the cab, mirroring the nervous thrum in my veins. I’d emailed my wife, Sarah, a simple proposition: “What would you like to do tonight?” Her response, a digital flash of silk and mischief, had set the stage for the evening – a private booth at “The Gilded Lily,” followed by a moonlit stroll along the beach. I’d found her waiting, a vision of barely contained heat. She wore a low-cut black lace top that clung to her curves, showcasing a generous cleavage and a hint of tanned skin peeking out from the edges of a pair of sleek black leggings. The top dipped low enough that the curve of her hip was undeniably visible, hinting at the pleasures to come. As I got closer, I couldn't resist reaching out to gently caress her lower back, the skin soft and yielding beneath my fingertips.

“You’ll have to wait to see if I’m wearing any,” she whispered, her voice husky with anticipation, before letting her hand drop to my burgeoning member, resting it lightly against its rising swell. “He feels very free and pleased to see me.” The restaurant was opulent, all plush velvet and crystal chandeliers, but the private booth provided an intimacy that felt both decadent and thrilling. We ordered our usual – oysters and chilled white wine – the salty brine mingling with the sweet fragrance of the wine, creating an intoxicating blend. As we ate, she leaned back, her gaze lingering on my face before returning to the half-eaten oyster in her hand. “Remember, no talking as I hold the last one in my mouth,” she murmured, her eyes sparkling with a playful challenge. “I love the smooth silky feel, like something else I know.” Her hand darted under the table, retrieving a small, exquisitely crafted silver compact. She opened it, revealing a tube of shimmering, iridescent lip gloss, and applied it with a deft hand, highlighting her full lips. The waiter, a young man with a hesitant smile, approached our table, placing a delicate dessert – a miniature chocolate mousse cake – before us. As he turned to leave, he almost stumbled, his eyes momentarily locking onto her pert posterior before he regained his balance.

Her return to the table was met with a silent, knowing smile. “Notice anything different?” she asked, a mischievous glint in her eyes. A quiet chuckle escaped her lips as she leaned forward, positioning her breasts gently on the table, her lace top now slightly more open, revealing more of her ample cleavage. The waiter, clearly flustered, nearly dropped the dessert, his face turning a shade of crimson. The air crackled with unspoken desires, a silent agreement hanging between us.

The beach was deserted, save for the rhythmic crash of waves against the shore and the distant cries of gulls. As I stood behind her, looking out at the moonlit water, I slowly reached around her waist, pulling her closer. Her skin felt warm and vibrant against my touch, a stark contrast to the cool air. I began to trace the curve of her spine, my hands moving slowly and deliberately, building anticipation with each caress. Suddenly, I realized she wasn’t wearing a bra. A slow smile spread across my face as I brought my hands up, gently slipping her top off her firm tits. "Naturally," I said, my voice low and intimate, "You've never had to wear a bra for them to stand up." She sighed with delight, leaning into my touch as my fingers explored the delicate landscape of her nipples, teasing and tantalizing her sensitive skin. "Lets go to the car. I’m close; I won’t be able to stand if I cum," she whispered, her breath hot against my ear.

Inside the car, the moonlight painted her skin in silver hues, highlighting the swell of her breasts and the curve of her hips. As I leaned in to kiss one nipple, my hand instinctively moved to the other, exploring its contours with a practiced touch. She sighed deeply, her body relaxing against mine as I pulled gently on her nipples, sending shivers down her spine. “Oh, that’s nice; don’t stop. I love it when you pull them both. I wish it could last forever; it sends tingles to my pussy.” As my kisses intensified, she slipped off her leggings, revealing a stunning expanse of smooth, tanned skin. Naked, she was a goddess bathed in moonlight, a captivating vision of feminine beauty. I resumed my ministrations, my fingers tracing the lines of her body, finding pleasure in her every curve and contour. She responded with a moan of pure ecstasy, her body trembling beneath my touch. At one point, I slipped my hand down to explore the warmth and sensitivity of her pussy, the rhythm of my touch mirroring the pounding of my own heart.

“Oooh, that’s lovely. I’m getting close,” I whispered, unable to resist the urge to return to her tits. I pressed my lips against each nipple, sucking deeply, drawing out her pleasure as she tensed and tightened around them. She squeezed her legs together, her body arching in response to my touch, her moans growing louder and more insistent. During this time, she also began to play with my member, her fingers exploring its every inch with a playful yet insistent rhythm. The air was thick with desire, a potent mix of lust and longing.

“Wait, I don’t want to come yet,” she said, her voice breathless. “Just kiss and pull my nipples.” She lay there, sighing with delight as I continued my ministrations, caressing, kissing, sucking, and playing with her tits. All the while, she squeezed and played with my member, a mutual dance of pleasure and anticipation. The silence was broken only by our ragged breaths and the soft sounds of our bodies moving together.

Soon, the pressure became unbearable, and I couldn't resist taking my hand down to explore her clit, my fingers sinking deep into her warm, wet pussy. A wave of pleasure washed over her, causing her to tingle and quiver. She cried out, a primal scream of ecstasy, her body convulsing with each wave of sensation. “Oh yes, yeeees,” she moaned, unable to restrain her release. As she came, I continued to suck her tits, plunge my fingers deep, and she came and came again until she sighed, “No more, no more.”

For a brief moment, we rested, catching our breath and gazing up at the branches of a tree hanging partially over the car. As we looked, we noticed two large squirrels clinging to the branches, their eyes fixed on us with an unnerving intensity. Suddenly, one of the squirrels jumped onto the other, engaging in a frenzied act of mounting, continuing for about a minute before presumably releasing its load. Then, they turned, looked our way, and scampered off into the darkness.

Her laughter was infectious, a bright sound that cut through the quiet intimacy of the moment. “Would you like to go home so you can hump me, or shall I…” she trailed off, a playful challenge in her eyes. Without further hesitation, she bent down and took my throbbing member in her mouth, sucking and licking it with an almost violent intensity. The pleasure was exquisite, a delicious torment that left me breathless and begging for more. As she played with my balls, her movements grew quicker and more insistent, drawing me deeper into her passionate embrace.

“I’m cumming,” I managed to choke out, but she didn’t stop. Instead, she intensified her assault, sucking and holding me in her mouth until she took all I had to give. Finally, she looked up at me, a triumphant smile playing on her lips. “Happy? It tasted nutty,” she said, then leaned in to kiss me, whispering, “Let’s go home. I’d like to come again. How long before you can come again? I hope you can do me for more than one minute, like that randy squirrel.” As we drove away, the rain continued its relentless percussion against the windows, but inside the car, we were lost in a world of our own, a world of lust, desire, and unbridled pleasure. The night had just begun, and the possibilities seemed endless.

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