Work Related Ch. 02

Work Related 2 - Date With My Ex

I woke from the nicest dream I could remember in a long time. Someone had been giving my pussy the most delicious tongue-lashing I had receieved in a long time. I kept my eyes closed as I could still feel the effects of it. Peter, my ex-husband, and I had our problems during our marriage, but his ability to go down on me was always wonderful. I sighed happily and ran my hands up my sides to touch my breasts. My palms brushed over my dark aureole. I touched my forefingers to my nipples, realizing they were already stiff.

Taking each nipple between a thumb and forefinger, I began to slowly roll them around and around. My breathing speeded up and I pinched them, lightly at first, and then harder and harder in time with the memory of the dream tongue caressing my open pussy. Moaning slightly, I slid one hand down over my stomach to finish myself off.

My fingers touched someone's head.

I was awake and the tongue was real. My eyes flew open and I frantically looked down at the brunette head between my legs. I shuddered with pleasure as I felt a long lap inside me, reaching from the bottom of my wet slit all the way up to where my clit throbbed with anticipation. The face appeared as a soft pair of lips closed over my hardened nub. A roughish brown eye winked at me.

"Good morning, sunshine," Betty Craig laughed with delight at what I'm sure was a mingled look of surprise and desire, which emotions were vying for control. Her face disappeared and I felt her lips return to the hard nub I had been trying to reach with my fingers.

"Good morning," I managed to gasp, almost inanely considering the circumstances. Her tongue circled my clit, tapping it, flicking against it. She pushed one, then two fingers inside me. Spreading them, she scraped along my inside walls. This was definitely superior to my own fingers I was happy to note.

I bucked once. My hand had returned to my breast and I pinched and pulled my nipples in the overwhelming excitement Betty's tongue and fingers were producing in me. I lifted my hips, arching and pushing against her. With that sign of my approaching orgasm, she drove her fingers deep into my pussy, reaching the spongy spot. At the same time her lips closed over my clit and squeezed.

"BETTY," I all but screamed as I twisted my nipples and came in one long shuddering spasm. I collapsed back onto the bed as a series of aftershocks ran through my body.

When I forced my eyes open again, Betty was kneeling between my still outstretched legs. Her eyes sparkled. "Now THAT'S the way to wake up a friend in the morning." She climbed up the bed and kissed me, slipping her tongue into my mouth. "Tastes great doesn't it? Mine did after you ate me last night."

She hopped up from the bed and sat in one of the overstuffed chairs in the hotel room. I realized that she was already dressed, except for the low heels she favored. As she pulled them on, she looked back over at me and smiled. "That was fun. I was going to quietly slip out to work, but you had rolled on your back and your legs were already parted." She giggled. "It just seemed like a good opportunity."

She walked over to the bed and kissed me, this time softly. "Call me sometime. Heck, call me Sunday. I want to know how this date with your ex-husband goes. He sounds like a great guy. If you don't want him send him my way."

I was about to protest that I wasn't having a date with Peter, just supper. But then I hadn't realized that Betty and I were out on a date at first either. So I did something neither my parents nor my ex would have believed. I smiled and kept my mouth shut.

Betty settled her shoulder bag and picked up her briefcase. "Be careful going home Sherry." She blew me a kiss and was gone.

I stretched again and looked at the clock by the bed. Holy cow I needed to get moving. I took a quick shower, dressed and got everything into the back of my car. Betty would be staying there another day and her company was paying for the room, so I pulled the door closed and left.

The drive home went quickly. My mind replayed the events of the last 24 hours and the delicious introduction I had received to sex with another woman. That was definitely going to happen again, with Betty or with some other female. AT the same time my mind kept straying to tomorrow night, and my dinner date with Peter. I wondered how he might react to a retelling of my sapphic night with Betty. I had no doubt that once he would have thrown things and screamed about it. Now? Well, I wasn't ready to tell him yet, but I thought he would be much more accepting and understanding. Perhaps even... I decided to finish that thought another day.

Once home and unpacked, I rushed to the office. I handled the slight pileup of work, including that which wasn't my responsibility but that I did anyway. By 6 PM everything was done. I got home, relaxed for a while and went to bed, thinking of the night before and wondering about the night to come.

I spent Saturday cleaning house and working in the garden. I took a nap in the early afternoon and then began to get ready. I had chosen a basic black dress that left my arms bare and fell to just above my knees. I had already picked out shoes and stockings and jewelry to match before my trip. I had just finished my makeup and was putting my earrings in when the door rang.

I opened the door and was surprised to find a bouquet of flowers thrust at me. A cheerful "Hey there good lookin'," was practically muffled by the size of the arrangement.

"Hey yourself," I replied as I buried my face into the fragrance of the blossoms. Lowering them I smiled. "Carnations, always my favorite. Come on in Peter." I went off to the kitchen, found an empty vase under the sink and arranged the flowers in it. I carried it to my dinning table and stepped back and admired it.

Turning around I also admired Peter. I swear, he was even more broad-shouldered than I remembered. Gray slacks, with a open collared white shirt and a sport jacket. I remembered how he used to always wear a tightly knotted tie pulled exactly into the center of his collar. I definitely liked the open shirt better. It went well with the warm smile on his face.

"Thank you, Peter. Wow, you look so good tonight."

"You're welcome, Sherry. And you look great yourself. Shall we go? I have reservations at The Captain's House for seven."

Apparently Peter was a familiar fixture at one of the city's best restaurants. The maitre'd called him by name and seated us immediately. The waiter took my drink order and returned with it and with a drink Peter had never even ordered.

"My, oh my," I teased him. "Looks like you're in in-thing around here."

"Local writer makes good," he all but orated. Then he grinned. Its fun and I'm enjoying it. In another month someone else will be the flavor of the week but until then I'm grabbing all the perks I can."

I liked the way he had answered. He was obviously happy about his success and enjoying it. At the same time, it hadn't gone to his head. He was friendly with the waiter and even stopped a passing waitress to ask about a recent illness in her family he had heard of. By the minute I was growing fonder and fonder of the new Peter.

I realized that actually the "New Peter", wasn't new. He was back to being the young, happy guy I had first met so many years ago. Warm, friendly, interested in everyone and everything. I knew that I had been responsible for the loss of a lot of that when we were married. Instead of supporting him I had been too busy wanting things, and to fulfill that he had gone into a profession that, as good as he was at it, he was completely unsuited for. Now he was happy, and I was very glad he was.

We ate, had some wine, and then the music started. Peter rose, came around the table and asked, "May I have this dance?" He slid my chair out as I stood up and we walked hand in hand to the floor.

Dancing with Peter had always been nice. Together we weren't winning any contests but we fit well and had a good time. The pace slowed and I slipped into his arms for a slow dance. His arms circled me and we slowly swayed along the floor. I nestled my head against his shoulder and happily closed my eyes, lost in the moment.

The music stopped and I lifted my face to his. He kissed me, just a touch of lips, but with the promise of so much more. I knew my eyes sparkled. In sheer joy I spun around, and collided with a waiter carrying a loaded serving tray.

Everything moved in slow motion. The waiter made a desperate attempt to hold the tray. I tried to steady him. Peter sprang forward to catch the edge of the tray. There was one frozen moment when it appeared everything was saved, and then the loaded gravy boat slid to the edge of the tray and poured its contents down Peter.

"Sumbitch," Peter gasped.

Oh my god, oh my god," I moaned. I hurriedly grabbed the napkins from the table and tried in vain to dab him clean. It was a hopeless effort, he was covered in the sauce. Overcome by the unbelievable breaking of the mood, I barely managed to stifle a wild desire to giggle, jamming my knuckles in my mouth. At the same time, I thought I saw a twinkle in Peter's eyes as he surveyed the wreckage of his attire.

Taking only a few moments to pay the bill and reassure the waiter and the host that in no way was any of this their fault, we hurried out of the restaurant and to the car. The waiter suddenly appeared with a clean table cloth and covered the driver's seat. Peter thanked him warmly. Then of all things, he walked around to the passenger side and held the door open for me until I was seated.

He started the car and we went off. I sat speechless in my seat. Feeling how uncomfortable I was, he smiled at me at the first red light, "Sherry, it was an accident. And if you keep trying to hold that laugh in you're going to bust."

I did laugh. I couldn't help it. Then I tried to do something to salvage the situation. "Your place, now, Peter. You need to get out of those wet clothes..."

"... and into a dry martini," he finished. "Well its one way of luring you back to my new place."

The new place turned out to be a condo overlooking the river. It was beautiful, but all I was concerned about was getting Peter inside and trying to save his clothes.

I rushed Peter inside the door. He threw back his head and laughed aloud as I pulled his stained shirt from his trousers.

"Sherry, I've been thinking about you undressing me, but this was hardly the scenario I had in mind. I was thinking about champagne and soft lights and more flowers; not sticky sauces dripping down my clothing." I tugged his t-shirt over his head and his voice muffled. "However, whatever works."

My heart warmed at his joking words and his broad smile. Once upon a time he would have been coldly furious at what had happened. His voice would have dripped with sarcasm. Now he teased me and could laugh at the whole thing. How wonderful.

I leered at him and shook my finger in front of his face. "Yeah, yeah, you wish. Now get into the bathroom." I gave him a push on the shoulder. "Pass me those slacks out Peter and jump in the shower. I'll start soaking everything to keep the stains from setting. Where's your washing machine?"

He told me. After passing everything out the almost closed door to me, I scurried down past the kitchen and found his laundry room. I treated the stains and laid the clothes carefully into the big sink I found by the washer and dryer.

I stopped in the kitchen on the way back and checked the refrigerator for something to drink. I smile. There indeed was a bottle of champagne there. I wondered if he had bought it for a possible late night with me. I hoped he had.

I debated taking the bottle out and opening it, then thought better of it. Things were going so well in spite of, or perhaps even because of, the silly accident. I didn't want to push things too fast. I really liked Peter so much better now, and hoped that he had found the changes in me good also. I grinned. One thing hadn't changed. His eyes still spent a lot of time below my neck.

One other thing had improved. When I came back to the bathroom door I heard his tenor voice singing cheerfully. I wondered if he taken lessons, because he was actually singing on key.

I leaned against the door frame. The evening had brought back a lot of happy memories from when Peter and I had first been married. Back then it had been the give and take that every couple needs to develop in order to make it. We were both much more mature and understanding of each other now.

I heard Peter start to hum. Based on those years together, I knew that meant he had started to shampoo his hair. A wicked thought crossed my mind. I hesitated. Should I? Peter and I had become friends in a way I never would have believed and I didn't want to ruin it.

One of the things my night with Betty had shown me was to grab opportunities as they were presented. My dress fell to the floor, to be rapidly joined by my shoes, pantyhose and my bra. I carefully opened the door, slowly, trying not to let any sudden change in temperature warn Peter.

I saw his tub had a shower curtain instead of an enclosure. Good, if I was very careful I could sneak in. The closer I got before he knew I was there the better the surprise would be. My heart was pounding in my chest. I could feel the huge grin on my face. I peeked quickly. Wonderful. He had his back to the water stream and his eyes closed as his fingers worked the shampoo into his hair.

Barely moving the curtain, I slipped in. My fingers started to reach for his cock. Neither completely flaccid nor erect, it was beginning to lift just a little. I smothered a giggle as I wondered if he was thinking about me. I stopped before I touched him, an even more daring idea coming to me. Since he still hadn't realized my presence I wanted to give him the greatest surprise I could.

I sank to my knees. My head darted forward. In one swift motion, I plunged my lips over his cock, sucking deeply as I captured his entire length into my mouth.

His reaction was all I could have hoped for and more. He gave a strangled yell, his eyes popped open and he frantically looked down. In the next moment he was trying to dance wildly, yelling "Sherry!" and "I've got soap in my eyes!".

I refused to let go, regardless of his gyrations. Grabbing his hips to hold him steady, I began to slide my lips up and down the rapidly growing length of his cock. When only the helmet remained in my lips I took an instant to lick the slit. Then I plunged his shaft back down inside my wet, warm mouth until I felt him fully in. I sucked hard, my cheeks hollowing from the force of my suction.

His cock rose to meet my efforts. Peter's head was all the way back into the stream of water, trying to flush his eyes. I could taste the soap and shampoo on his body, particularly when I released his cock long enough to suck his balls. Then his hands were on top of my head, guiding my eager mouth back to his rigid cock.

The warm water cascaded all over us. I began to bob my head, taking more of his shaft into my mouth with each down stroke. Peter's hands dropped on my head, his fingers running through my wet hair. For a second he gripped my head and then he suddenly snatched his hands away.

Surprised, I released him and leaned back. I had been holding his balls cupped in my left hand. I continued to stroke them lightly as I looked up.

"Peter, what's wrong?"

"Oh my God, Sherry, nothing. Its so good I was going over the edge." I saw him blush slightly through the steam. "I was going to, I mean I wanted to, I wanted to grab your head and just fuck your mouth. But I didn't want to act like that. Forcing you, I mean. You're giving me such pleasure and the last thing I want to do is act the ass."

"My Lord," I thought. How far we have come since those spiteful latter years of our marriage. At one time he would have simply acted on impulse, not caring of my feelings. I would have reciprocated by acting the martyr and then bitching about his lack of concern for a month. Now he thought of me first.

"Pete?" When he looked back down, I grinned. "Fuck away, darling." I took his cock back into my mouth and pushed my head forward, gobbling all I could.

With a deep moan, he returned his hands to my head. He held me in a firm grip as his hips began to slowly rock back and forth. Each time he pushed forward I tried to meet him with a quick dip of my head. His cock worked its way farther and farther down my mouth, touching the back of my throat. It throbbed in my mouth. I met his next thrust with a head slam, feeling him lodge in my throat. The we both went wild.

His hips heaved forward, driving himself in as though my mouth and throat was my pussy. He rammed my head against him until my nose hit his groin and his balls slapped against my chin. I felt his rock hard cock began to swell. I squeezed his balls, my other hand buried between my legs. That hand blurred as I whipped my clit, bringing me to the point of orgasm even as I heard him cry out wildly.

"Sherry, oh God, baby, I'm cumming." His pulsating cock filled my mouth and with one last effort he slammed forward until the head popped completely into my throat. An explosion of cum ran down my throat. Whether I wanted to swallow or not was moot. There was no choice. I gulped frantically, trying to keep pace with the flow of his salty cream, and still be able to breath. At the same time my masturbating fingers brought me to my own orgasm.

When we finally calmed down, we took turns scrubbing each other. Mingled with kisses and the occasional squeeze, we finally ran the hot water out. We dressed fetchingly in matching towels and headed for the kitchen. Peter opened the champagne bottle while I found the glasses.

"How about a toast, Sherry?"

"Sounds great. What should we drink to?"

"Well, I almost was going to make a smart-ass remark about what just happened in the shower. But that wouldn't be at all what I'm thinking. How about to a night that turned out better than I ever hoped it could have been?"

I smiled. "To a great night." We sipped our glasses. Our eyes stayed on each other.

Peter set his glass down. "Sherry, this night wasn't great just because you surprised me in the shower or because of the sex together." He grinned. "Although that was pretty darn fantastic." Turning serious again, "It was great because of the wonderful talk we had, because of the way you felt in my arms when we dance, because of how beautiful you look here with your hair wet around your shoulders. It was great because you're here and I haven't felt so close to you since we were teenagers."

"Wow," I let my breath out with a rush. "How did I ever let you get away from me?"

"Oh, the model you got rid of needed a lot of growing up and some serious adjustments. I regret that it took our divorce to make me do that."

"It wasn't just you, Peter. I still thought I was the football team cheerleader and that was sufficient. We've both grown a lot." I gathered my thoughts. "I want to see more of you Peter, a lot more. But let's take our time. I like where this is leading us, but I want to get to know all of the new you."

"And I want to get to know you, Sherry, like I never did before." He smiled. "So what do we do first?"

I pulled the towel from around my body. Dropping it to the floor, I set my glass on the counter and turned towards the hallway. I looked back over my shoulder, wiggled my body and winked at him.

"First? Let's go to bed."

I heard his feet scuff behind me and I ran down the hallway. I knew he was right behind me.

(The End)