The longer they sat in the car, the more Jenny realized if they were actually going to eat dinner in there and attend the munch, she was going to have to be the one to make the call.
She suspected what they went through with her sister was part of Michael’s unwillingness to take any kind of lead in this. The other part was likely due to his own childhood. While her husband didn’t talk much about his biological father, she suspected from the limited things his mom had said about the man that he’d been an abusive asshole.
Jenny knew her husband was anything but an abusive asshole. And she didn’t know how to verbalize to him her needs, her desires, to explore this path with him.
But hell, she supposed if she couldn’t even be brave enough to have dinner with him at a public restaurant with a bunch of other people, she’d never be able to open up to him in private and reveal to him what was on her mind.
Maybe meeting some like-minded people might help loosen her own tongue, give her a way to start this discussion with him.
Maybe even give her someone to point at and then whisper in his ear, “That. What she said.”
If nothing else, it would—hopefully—assure herself she wasn’t some one-off freak of nature for feeling the way she did, no matter what the books she’d read and the articles she’d perused on the Internet said. The stuff she’d learned so far deeply resonated with her.
If I could stand up to that ass-kissing bitch Cassidy Falwell at the PTO meetings, I can damn sure make myself go to dinner with my husband at a public restaurant.
She reached for her door and heard Michael unfasten his seat belt, too.
Yep, she’d have to take the lead here, like it or not.
It sort of defeated the whole purpose of why she’d wanted to come tonight, but they had to start somewhere.
This was as good a place as any.
She now had a mind filled with fantasies, fueled in no small part by the books she was eagerly devouring every night, and her discussions with her book club. Well, and what she’d researched on the Internet. She knew a lot of what she read in some of the books was pure fiction.
Still, there was just enough truth in them that she knew this could be a new direction for them as a couple. A way to super-charge their relationship like never before.
If she could show Michael the way and get him to take the lead.
He met her around the front of the car and hit the button on the key fob to lock the doors. Automatically, her arm slipped through his as they started their walk toward the restaurant’s entrance. She’d instinctively snuggled close to his side, as she always did when they walked together.
Even in this basic, mundane act, she always found a little bit of quiet perfection. From the way their bodies fit together, to the way their gaits seemed synced. He was just six feet tall, and she was four inches shorter than him.
When they got to the door, he reached out and pulled it open for her with his free hand, allowing her to go first. Nerves set her stomach fluttering as her eyes struggled to adjust in the darker interior.
A young woman stood at a podium in the foyer and smiled at them. “How many for dinner?”
Jenny forced the words out before she lost her nerve. “We’re here with…the computer group. It’s our first time.”
She didn’t know what she’d expected the hostess to do. Maybe laugh, or gasp in shock and horror. Instead, the woman warmly smiled and waved them to follow her. She walked them around the corner and into the dining room, then pointed at a door on the far wall through which a waiter was just disappearing.
“Right in there, in our private room. Open seating. The hosts are already there and they’ll greet you when you go in. Have a nice dinner.”
“Thanks,” she said, clutching just a little more tightly to Michael’s arm.
It felt like the dining room lengthened as they walked toward the closed door. She also changed her mind about going through with it at least twenty different times before they actually arrived at the door.
She looked up and found Michael staring down at her. He wasn’t smiling, either. The expression on his face was one she thought of as his “I’m doing this for you” look. The same look he wore during tedious PTO meetings, Boy Scout banquets, and her holiday office parties where the doctors’ wives—and sometimes the doctors—usually drank too much and got too loud.
He pushed the door open for her and they walked in. As she scanned the room, she felt more than a little relief that she didn’t recognize anyone.
A woman who’d been talking to another couple broke away from them and walked over to Jenny and Mike. She offered them a warm smile. “Hi! Is this your first time here?”
Jenny clutched her purse tightly against her. “Hi. Yes, it is.”
“Well, I’m Loren.” She pointed across the room to a man who was talking to someone else. “That’s my husband, Ross. We’re the hosts tonight. Feel free to sit anywhere, and if you have any questions, don’t hesitate to ask.”
“Thanks,” she said. “Jenny and Mike.”
Now her nerves threatened to take away her appetite. Before Mike could make a move, Jenny angled toward a table in the back. The round tables were set up to seat six people each, and several seats around the room were either occupied, or obviously claimed by people laying the cloth napkins over the backs of the chairs or tipping them forward against the table. There were already about fifteen people in the room.
As she settled in the chair on Mike’s left, she breathed out a sigh of relief. They were here, they were seated, and, so far, people had been perfectly lovely to them.
I can do this. I want to do this.
Her car was parked in the driveway when he pulled in thirty-six minutes after leaving work. Tonight would be fend-for-themselves scrounging of leftovers. She wouldn’t be cooking dinner.
He sat in his car for a moment and stared at the front of the house, a war waging within him.
What’s the worst that can happen?
I could piss her right the fuck off and not get any sex for the immediate future.
She could get mad at me.
She might hate me.
But as he sat and thought, he tried to turn that around.
What’s the best that could happen?
Well, the best that could happen was he might get himself laid, and might make his wife happy.
Wasn’t that worth the risk?
He grabbed his laptop case, locked the car, and headed inside. At first, he didn’t see her. The TV in the living room was on, but she wasn’t in there. He set his laptop case down on the couch and walked through to the kitchen. When he heard the sound of the dryer door closing, he realized she was out in the utility room.
Before he could lose his nerve, he walked across the kitchen and opened the door to the utility room. Jenny let out a cry, then started laughing as she punched the button to start the dryer.
“You startled me. I didn’t hear you drive up.”
Without a word and with his hands shaking, he stepped into the room, grabbed her by the ponytail with one hand, slipped his other arm around her waist, and started kissing her. At first she tried to pull away, but then he remembered Tony’s advice and kept on kissing her, stepping forward until he had her backed against the washer.
After a moment, he felt her arms drape around him as she let out a soft sigh and started kissing him back.
I’ll be damned. He was right.
Emboldened, and now with his cock hard and throbbing in his jeans, he pushed one thigh between her legs, rubbing it against the crotch of her shorts.
A soft moan escaped her. She started humping her hips against him.
Hoping he wasn’t about to irretrievably fuck up his marriage, he tightened his grip on her ponytail, let go of her with his other hand, and stepped back enough she had room.
He pointed at the floor in front of him.
* * * *
At first, it’d startled her when Michael opened the utility room door. She knew he was due home any time, but she usually heard his car drive up.
She damn sure wasn’t expecting it when he didn’t say anything as he grabbed her by the hair, pulled her against him, and started kissing her.
For a brief second, she thought about pushing him away, but then again there was something different about him tonight.
Something she wanted to see play out.
And then it was like a stranger was kissing her, backing her up until she felt the cool enameled surface of the washer pressing into her ass as he gave her a kiss that she thought might just make her come right there.
Going with it, she draped her arms around him, her heart speeding from a canter to a full-on gallop when he shoved his thigh between hers.
Oookaaay then, mister. Game fucking on.
She hoped he wasn’t just teasing her, because if he was, she was going to fucking kill him.
There was no denying the way his cock hardened in his jeans as she rubbed herself against him. She was really getting into the kiss, too, when he backed up and pointed at the floor in front of him.
Confusion tried to break through the seductive haze clouding her mind when he snapped his fingers.
He still had hold of her hair, too, and was gently tugging her down.
She sank to her knees in front of him, her pussy throbbing.
Okay, he wants to play? I’ll show him how the game should be played.
She started ripping his belt open, fighting with and finally winning over the button and zipper on his jeans, and getting them opened enough to fish his hard cock out from his briefs.
And still he had hold of her hair. Only then he put his other hand on her head, too, and guided her face right to his cock.
She reached up and grabbed it, looking up and locking eyes with him as she opened her lips and took just the tip of it between her lips.
There was something deep, smoldering in his gaze, something she didn’t recognize. Something completely unfamiliar.
Something she wanted to see more of.
Without breaking eye contact with him, she slowly slid his hard cock deeper into her mouth, her tongue working at the head, swirling around the shaft as she did.
Holy fuck, my panties are going to be soaked.
Forget that, if she didn’t soak all the way through her panties and leave a wet spot on her shorts, it’d be a miracle.
His hips slowly thrust in time with her movements, taking charge, his hands controlling her.
Then he let out a soft moan of his own. “Such a good girl,” he whispered.
Something inside her broke free and set sail in a crazy, freewheeling way unlike anything she’d ever felt before. She let out a moan of her own, and suddenly she wanted to get him off more than anything in the whole world. She lived for it. She’d come close to dying for it, just to be able to do it.
When she tried to pick up the pace, he held on, keeping her at his speed, making her whine even more as she desperately wanted to make him come, make him keep using that tone on her, saying that to him, just like the books—
No, wait. Better than the books.
Way better. Because it was her husband, saying it in his voice, and not some erotic-novel Dom doing it.
“Are you my good girl?” he whispered.