Chapter 1
"Is everything all right, sir?" the waiter asked.
Bob just nodded and mumbled. His face reddened a little. It was hard to talk when his wife was groping his crotch under the table. She squeezed his cock again, smiling like an angel, and he groaned softly. His groan was damn near the only thing involved that was soft.
The waiter turned and walked away.
"What the hell are you doing?" Bob asked in a low voice. He reached down and tried to pry her fingers off his cock, which was getting very hard. She held on for dear life, her hand modeling the outline of his rising prick.
Pamela Parker didn't say anything. She looked at him, her incredible blue eyes glistening like sapphire, and her fingers continued to stroke and tickle the bulging wad of Bob's cock. With her other hand she held her glass of white wine, and she sipped delicately at it. Her tongue emerged from between her full pink lips, and she licked the tip of the glass for a moment, not taking her eyes off Bob's face.
He shivered, watching her, his cock almost totally erect and starting to ache a little as her fingers kept on showing it no mercy.
"No," he said in a soft warning voice when she took hold of his zipper and started to pull it down.
He looked around. They were dining at the Roman Room, the classiest restaurant in town. It was a Friday evening, the place was full, and Pam was jacking him off under the table.
Her hand entered his pants, and she took hold of his cock.
"You're crazy," he said. "What if somebody sees us? That stiff-assed waiter, for example? Or the little old lady in the mink, over at that table? I bet she's never even seen a cock! She might have a heart attack and die, just from the shock of figuring out what you're doing. Pam ..."
His voice trailed away. She was taking his prick out of his pants.
"Mmmm!" she moaned, finally, putting down her wineglass and sliding her moist, hot fingers up and down the shaft of his cock. "Mmmm, I feel like being nasty tonight! And what could be nastier than giving you a hand-job in the middle of the Roman Room? Oh, Bobby, I know it's making you excited! I can feel it right here in my hand! You're getting soooo big, soooo hard!"
Jesus fucking Christ! Bob thought. We haven't fucked for two weeks, and she gets the urge in the middle of dinner! He closed his eyes.
"Oh, dear," Pam said, "I think I've dropped my ring."
She spoke in a voice a little louder than the soft whispers they'd been using to converse, almost as if she wanted the rest of the dinner crowd to hear her.
"I'll just have to lean down and look for it," she said, releasing his cock.
Bob's jaw seemed to drop far enough to hit the edge of the table. Pamela flashed her blue eyes at him, and then she just slid down in her chair, vanishing under the table.
He looked around immediately to see if anyone was staring, but no one seemed to have noticed. He was about to lift the cloth and see if she needed any help when he felt her hands on his cock again. Both of them, this time. And somehow he knew what she was going to do, even if he could not believe it.
"Mmmmm, soooo yummy!" he heard her groan from under the table.
Bob's face went scarlet and he closed his eyes. She was double-stroking him, her palms sliding up and down the stiff, exposed length of his prick, and he could feel her hot breath flowing onto the cockshaft.
He gasped in shock as her tongue began to, lick delicately at the end of his cock, just the way she had licked delicately at the edge of her wineglass.
Her tongue moved up and down the length of his exposed prick. He was so big, so fucking hard, that his fly didn't seem big enough to let his cock stick out. He felt the zipper tabs scraping against his swollen cockshaft.
And he could really feel her tongue sliding like velvet all over his cock. His body got hotter, and he stirred uncomfortably in his chair, still looking around to see if anyone had noticed anything yet.
Under the table, Pam's mouth was busy on her husband's cock. She slurped him wetly, and it was obvious she was excited. Her mouth was full of saliva. The warm, wet juice flowed down his cock as she worked her lips up and down his prick's steely length.
He had to admit that it felt fucking good. Scary too, but very, very good.
She took his cock into her mouth, several shallow insertions of his hard meat. He slid across her wet, warm tongue, fucking toward her tonsils. Momentarily, her mouth closed tightly on him, and she demonstrated exactly what sucking was all about.
Bob groaned, and his ass twitched. He pushed his prick into her mouth, but she wasn't taking any more than she could handle, and she warned him with her teeth to cool it. He groaned again and let Pam go. She was only too happy, it seemed, to give him some good sucking.
When she was in the mood, she could suck cock. He knew he wasn't the first one she'd ever had in her mouth, but he also knew that there had not been that many guys ahead of him. His wife really was the old-fashioned-girl type.
He heard her purring and moaning and gasping a little under the table as his cock worked in and out of her mouth. She was sucking and biting just a little, taking him deeper than before, worshipping his rigid cock with her hot wet tongue.
She was hot for his cock, all right, almost savage in her hunger to suck him off.
She whipped him with her tongue. The slurping, smacking, gobbling sounds she made were driving him wild. He hadn't heard her so vocal in sex for months.
"Oh, Jesus," he whispered, pushing his cock straight into her throat. She was ready for it, and she sucked down over him, taking him home. Her mouth caressed him erotically, then she lifted her head and his cock slipped out.
"Ah!" he gasped, lunging but finding only dead air to meet his prick.
She locked her lips onto his shaft again and moved up and down his cock.
She kissed, she licked, she nibbled on his flesh. Her fingers capped his hugely swollen cock-knob, pinching it with nastily sexual directness. Pre-cum oozed from his piss-slit, and she massaged the liquid back into his flesh.
She squeezed again, and he was sure that she was getting more than pre-cum out of his cock. He felt as if his balls were clogged with the stuff, and some of it was already leaking out of his excited cockhead.
"Yes," he said huskily as her mouth captured him once more.
His blood pumped into his aroused cock, and it was sizzling, bubbling blood, just like the fluid that simmered in all of his veins.
He knew his face had gotten as red as a living human face could, but he compensated by keeping his eyes shut tightly. Maybe he could pretend that nobody else in the Roman Room had yet noticed what was going on under the table.
He heard a throat-clearing, but it was from above, not under, the table. The waiter had come back.
Bob tried to listen to what the man was saying, but he found it difficult to concentrate. Pamela was deep-throating his cock again, sloshing him in and out of her mouth, sucking all the way down to the fly of his pants.
His cock throbbed. Her tongue massaged him, her cheeks siphoned hard at his burning, rigid prick. Bob moved restlessly in his chair, pushing cock into Pam's hungry mouth.
He still couldn't believe she was actually doing this to him, but the excitement swelling inside his prick was too real to be a fantasy. Her teeth gnawed gently but insistently at the sides of his cockshaft, and his big cum-vein enlarged.
He felt a dribble of jism leak from his cock, onto her tongue.
"Oh," he said in a choked voice, certain that he was going to blow his nuts.
"Sir," the waiter said.
Bob forced himself to look up. His eyes were out of focus. He heard the man say something about the wine.
"Uh, Lam-Lambrusco," Bob stammered, reaching under the table to touch Pam's head as she continued to wolf down his cock. "Lambrusco is f-f-fine--"
"With seafood?" the waiter asked, sounding personally offended at the idea.
Bob wasn't listening. He just nodded and closed his eyes again. Pam's mouth was slamming all the way down his throbbing cockshaft and there was no way he could avoid pouring a hot sticky load of jism down her throat.
The waiter went away shaking his head, and Bob put both hands under the table, guiding Pamela while she ate him.
He wished to hell he could see her face, see the suck-hunger gleaming in her blue eyes, the saliva drooling from her wet mouth as she gobbled his cock up and down, sucking him hotly into her wet throat.
He was panting harder as his cock grew closer and closer to orgasm. He looked around and saw that some of the people at nearby tables were looking oddly at him. Fuck you! he thought, running his fingers through Pam's luxuriant blonde hair, massaging her skull while she massaged his throbbing prick. If you knew why I was panting, you'd all be green with envy!
"Yes, oh, shit yes!" he moaned, leaning back in his chair and pumping his cock into her hungry wet mouth.
She sucked down hard, and her lips clung to his flesh. Her teeth scraped his cum-vein, her tongue flogged the tip of his prick, and then he slid deeply, burying himself in her throat. She tightened everything she had, and she started to hum around his imbedded cock, and there was no fucking way Bob could resist.
"Oh!" he groaned, much louder than he should have. But it was too late to worry. His cock exploded, and the cum gushed into Pamela's sucking throat.
She sucked him all the while he shot, and she kept on humming around his cock, spurring more and more jism from the tip of his twitching prick. He ached from the effort of squirting his cum into her mouth, but it was a hot, satisfying kind of ache. He moaned softly with each separate squirt of his cock. She moaned a little too, eating down his lust-offering with her hungry active mouth and throat.
His prick throbbed, swelled, and gushed, and her mouth sucked furiously. Even after he'd emptied his balls, he could not will his prick to go soft. Her lips nursed at it, siphoning every drop of cum he could bring forth, and she continued to eat at him even after he'd gone dry and his prick pulsated in jismless frustration.
She tucked his cock back inside his pants, kissing it goodbye, and he put his hands on the table, gripping it fiercely. The swollen lump of cock inside his pants was agonizingly hard, dying for still more of what she had just given him.
Slowly she came up, moving delicately into her seat. He looked at her.
"You've got some cum on your chin!" he whispered. Her mouth glistened with the sticky goo of his discharge. He knew he'd poured a gallon of cum into her. He felt as if he could do it all over again.
She rubbed the sticky wet spot with the side of her finger, and then she smiled at him and slid the finger across her lips. He could hear her sucking the excess cum off her flesh.
"That was fun," she said. "What did the waiter want?"