By the time our dinner finally arrived at the table, my pussy was so moist that I feared it might cause a noticeable stain on my dress. I excused myself, saying I was going to the ladies’ room to freshen up. I got in the ladies’ lounge and wiped some of the wetness off with a damp paper towel, followed by a dry one.
I returned to the table, took my hand, and pulled your face close to me so I could give you a peck on the lips. I purposely ran my index finger up under your nose so you could get a whiff of my pussy. You shook your head a little, then leaned over to whisper in my ear. “You’re so bad, boo. Quit!”
I just looked at you, giggled, and started eating my food. The chicken breast was really dry, but I lied and said it was “succulent, juicy, and delicious.” Only you and I knew I was really referring to your dick. Those are the words I always use to describe it.
I kept running my fingers up and down your thigh during dinner and slipped a shoe off so I could rub my toes up your pants leg. You have a foot fetish and love sucking on my toes. I know the idea was running through your mind like wildfire. No one noticed anything because the white linen tablecloth was hiding our discreet activities.
Once the sherbet arrived for dessert, I did some wicked things with my tongue as I licked it off of the long-handled spoon. I stuck my spoon up under the table and inserted the head of it in my pussy very quickly. Then, I scooped up a spoonful of my lime sherbet and told you to taste how delicious the lime was, since you had requested raspberry. The expression on your face gave away the fact you knew the sherbet was well-seasoned.
The pussy sherbet was the straw that broke the camel’s back. We opted to skip the after-dinner dance. You made up some cock-and-bull story about our baby-sitter having to leave early so we could haul ass out of there like two bats out of hell.
No sooner had the doors on the glass elevator closed when we were all over each other. You repeated your earlier statement. “You’re so bad!”
“Yes, I’m bad. That’s why you married me, right?” I grabbed your dick as the elevator began its descent to the lobby. “I just usually save my bad side for home, that’s all. But you’re looking so sexy and debonair tonight, I couldn’t resist you.”
I started working at your pants, trying to get my dick out, when you inquired, “What the hell are you doing, boo?”
“I want to suck you dry right here in the elevator.” I got my dick out. “Ummm, you look so scrumptious, boo. Can I have a lick?” I pulled the bottom of my dress up so I could get down on my knees without ripping the material.
You told me to hold up a minute because the elevator was already halfway to the lobby. You pressed the emergency stop button. I started deep-throating your dick, just the way you like it done, while you looked out of the elevator at all the city lights and cars going by on the street. They all looked like colored ants from where we were.
The red phone in the elevator started to ring. No way in hell we were answering it. I kept sucking away, caught a rhythm, and started contracting my cheek muscles on my dick. You pulled out of my mouth before I could make you cum and told me to stand up right quick.
You threw me up against the glass, facing the outside and pushed my hands up against the cool surface. You used your foot to spread my legs and then put your dick in my pussy, which was soaked again with my juices. Sucking dick always gets my pussy juices flowing. It’s my favorite.
The red phone continued ringing, and you grew concerned. “Maybe we should stop before we cause a panic.”
“Hell, no, fuck them! Better yet, fuck me!” You fucked me, too—fast and hard, until we both came about ten minutes later. It was a wild experience, gazing at the stars while you knocked the bottom out of my pussy. I knew from that moment on, having sex in unusual places was a definite must.
We restarted the elevator and straightened our clothes out while it completed its journey to the ground floor. When we got out, the night manager and some maintenance men started to ask us a bunch of questions. We avoided them all, saying they were lucky we didn’t sue the pants off their asses.
As we waited for the valet to retrieve our car, we laughed and joked about how much fun it was to fuck in the elevator. In fact we both thought it was so good, when we got back to our apartment building and got on the elevator in the parking garage, we decided to do the shit all over again. Now, I see elevators in a whole new light.
Animal Farm
Making love in unusual places has always turned me on. I’ve always been creative when it comes to making love to you. One evening, I decided to surprise you by planning something particularly special. I wanted to do something outrageous.
You grew up on a farm and often talked about how much you missed the days of your youth. You always compared the city, where we now live, to country life. I decided to take you back there—if only for one night.
It took quite a bit of doing and a hell of a lot of negotiating to find someone who was willing to let me use their facilities. I finally found an older couple, who were still romantic at heart and gracious enough to let me carry out my plans on their property.
I took the day off of work and drove out to the country to make all of the preparations. You had absolutely no clue I was not in my office that day. I put on a business suit that morning, left the house, and pretended like it was just another day in the grind.
By the time you got off work, I was all sexy for you in a white, skintight dress with a split going all the way up the side. After waiting for you to come out your office building, I told you I had a surprise for you, that I decided to pick you up instead of letting you ride the subway home as usual. I handed you a garment bag and told you to go change into the clothes inside it.
I waited out in the car while you went to change into a black suit, white shirt, and silk tie. When you got in the car, you asked where we were headed. I told you it was a surprise; you would just have to wait and see. The drive was a good ninety miles, and just as I suspected, it was almost nightfall when we arrived at the farm. As I drove up the driveway past the main house, you asked me whose place it was, and I replied, “Just a couple of good friends. You’ll meet them later!”
I parked the car directly in front of the barn, letting the high beams highlight the barn doors so we could see how to enter more easily. I told you to get out of the car, and you complied. I asked you to close your eyes, took you by the hand, and led you inside the barn.
Once inside, I told you to open up your eyes. You were shocked to see a king-size bed adorned with huge, fluffy pillows and wildflowers wrapped up in ivy flowing around the bedposts. There was also a small bouquet of wildflowers sprawled across the bed for you.
There was a round table with a white linen tablecloth about ten feet from the bed. The table had white taper candles burning on
it and was set with fine china. A bottle of wine was chilling in a silver cooler, and I had a vase of wildflowers placed in the center of the table.
The barn had four horses in two stalls on one side and six cows in stalls on the other side. They were all pretty calm at the moment, doing what animals do, like eating hay or grass—whatever.
I told you to have a seat at the table, left for a moment to kill the headlights on the car, and got ready to spring my other surprises on you. They were all waiting on the other side of the barn.