I N T E R E S T I N G   G A M E

PART 1   |   PART 2

PART 1
I knew I was in for it when I met my wife, Mandy, at the restaurant yesterday. First of all, she wasn't late like she usually is. In fact, she was there ahead of me, and had already been seated.

I liked the booth she'd selected. Mandy always picks the booth that pleases her. It's part of the privilege of eating out, she claims.

At any rate, this booth was at the very back of the restaurant. Immediately on the booth's left was a huge window overlooking a park. The window was at the very edge of our table, so we had an excellent view of the rose gardens and any joggers who happened by. I noticed immediately that Mandy sat facing the rear wall of the eatery, another thing odd about her behavior today.

I didn't dwell upon this, though, and set about scanning the menu for something to eat. I heard something drop onto the floor softly; then, to my surprise, I felt Mandy's stockinged foot slide along my inner thigh until it encountered the bulge of my penis.

I looked at her sharply, but she merely smiled and studied her own menu. Her toes nudged at my penis, disconcerting me further. Try as I might I could not concentrate upon the menu.

The waiter came, a young Hispanic kid of twenty, and asked whether we were ready to place our order. "Yes," Mandy said, and chose shrimp and a small steak. The waiter nodded, scribbling, and eyed Mandy's breasts openly. I was used to this.

Mandy had the kind of breasts that even women admired. She did nothing to conceal them, and dressed to emphasize them. My eyes, too, dropped to her blouse-covered breasts as the waiter eyed them.

Mandy was still toeing my penis under the table when the waiter remembered my presence and thought to ask what I wanted to eat. Unable to think, I simply said I'd have what Mandy was having. He nodded and left.

I tried to look out the window, but Mandy lifted the scooped neckline of her blouse and fanned herself as if warm. I had to look back at her, for I knew she was doing this to capture my attention. To my amazement, she opened her blouse, unbuttoning it all the way, and drew it off her shoulders.

I stared at her breasts, not believing what I was seeing. She never wore a bra, and today was no exception. As I watched her, her fingers caressed her velvety skin, stroking her nipples into hardness. In the sunshine that filtered in through the window, her breasts looked truly glorious.

They were perfectly molded and, although very full, they tilted upward naturally. Mandy's fingertips continued to caress her golden mounds. It was obvious to me that she loved her breasts, perhaps even more than anyone else did.

She rolled each round nipple between her fingertips and plucked at them a little. She nudged the nipples back and forth, then each hand slid beneath her breasts and rubbed upward over the mounds. She did all this without looking at me. She gazed out the large window, her thoughts seemingly far away.

She knew I watched her hands in fascination, for a small smile played across her pink lips. Her toes still danced about my hard penis, and I wondered just how I was going to find relief.

I reached out to her breasts, unable to restrain myself, but she cocked her head suddenly, as if hearing something, and smoothly closed her blouse. She buttoned it, but not completely, stopping when the waiter appeared. As delicious as it looked, I was disappointed at the food's arrival.

PART 1   |   PART 2