A Night Out On The Town

Well ... it was maybe ten years ago now when I took my wife out to dinner at a fine dining restaurant. It was one of those "Gentlemen's Club" type restaurants featuring steaks, chops, and other classic cuisine. You know the kind of place, with the waiters in tuxedos, subdued lighting, and ample, leather-covered booths for guests.

Of course, we dressed up for the evening. I wore a suit and my wife wore a  modestly short, sexy black dress. We settled in for a romantic dinner. I don't remember just what we had, but we went all out with appetizers, salad, a main course, and dessert. We started with cocktails and had wine with the food, so we were feeling no pain when it was time for dessert and after-dinner drinks. We ordered Crepes Suzette, or Baked Alaska, or some such thing and brandies, and before they came, my wife excused herself to go to the Ladies' Room to "freshen up."

When she returned to the waiting desserts, she smiled knowingly and handed me a pair of black, silk panties! As you might imagine, I was pleasantly surprised and quite aroused by her wantonness. Of course, when she slid in next to me, I ran my hand under her dress and found that she wasn't wearing pantyhose and had on, instead, nylon stockings and a garter belt! Of course, I kept one hand on her ***** as we busied ourselves with the dessert. I had enough class not to full-on finger-**** her right there, but I did play with her pubic hair and vagina as we enjoyed our brandies, and she smiled lovingly at me.

The night was still young, so we left the restaurant arm in arm with her panties in my pocket, and headed for a beachside hotel where there was jazz dancing available until the wee hours. We drank more brandies and danced for a couple of hours, and all the time we were both aware that she hadn't anything on under her black dress. I loved the idea that her goodies were just lying there a few inches away from the public gaze. I hoped that as we whirled about, some lucky guy was getting a quick shot at her hairy beaver. When we sat down, I'd run my hand back up her dress and play with her some more.

By this time, as you might imagine, she was quite wet and ready, so I suggested we go for a walk on the beach. We strolled hand in hand up the beach, feeling with warm Summer breeze off the ocean, and enjoying the feeling of the sand on our bare feet. We sat down on the sand and started kissing and hugging, and in the course of things, I unzipped my pants, pushed her legs apart, and started ******* her right there, fully clothed. She looked great in the moonlight with the black dress hiked up, the stockings and garter belt framing her moist bush and spread open *****. I squeezed her breasts through her dress as I ****** her harder and faster until I came her right there on the beach a few hundred yards from the hotel. We dawdled for awhile there holding hands and exchanging romantic nothings as my come and all her ***** juice leaked out of her by now well-****** **** out onto the sand.

After awhile, we got up, brushed ourselves off, walked back to the hotel and drove back home full and satisfied with our romantic dinner on the town. I'll always remember it, but mostly because of the panty thing in the restaurant ... that's what really made the night and keeps the memory fresh. Gotta love my wife, eh? What a sport she can be when the spirit moves her!

chubhub chubhub
66-70, M
Feb 17, 2010