Night on The Town, Part 2 [MF] [Oral] [Lite Exh] [Third Person]

(Part 1 can be found [here](https://www.reddit.com/r/Erotica/comments/6psqmm/night_on_the_town_part_1_mf_oral_lite_exh_third/).

 

 

 

Their car rolled up to the valet in front of Chez Trois, and Mark killed the ignition. “Oh, Lord,” he said before he opened the door.

“He even has a pencil moustache. He’s judging us already.”

“Stop it,” Kate said, rolling her eyes. “He is not.”

Mark looked at her, his hand on the door handle. “Are you kidding me? This guy probably parks Rolls Royces and Lamborghinis on the regular.”

“So he’ll be thankful for the change of pace.” Kate popped open the door and stepped out, greeting the valet with a smile. “Good evening.”

“Good evening, madam, sir,” the man said with the slight incline of his head. He accepted the keys from Mark with another nod. If he looked disgusted at their modest, sensible sedan, Kate didn’t see it.

“I hope your meals aren’t too filling,” Kate said as the valet began to walk around the car. “I had dessert on the way over. Couldn’t help myself.”

“Er…yes madam,” the valet replied, struggling to keep his dispassionate mask of professional boredom on his face.

“Man, what has gotten into you, tonight?” Mark asked with a laugh, watching their car drive away.

Kate pulled lipstick out from her bag and gave her lips a fresh coat to replace what she’d left on her husband’s dick. “Honestly? I dunno. First night we’ve had to ourselves in a while. Guess I want to make the most of it. Cut loose a bit. Be a little wild.”

“Mission accomplished,” Mark replied, adjusting his pants. “Shall we go in? After you, madam.”

She batted Mark on the arm. “Cut it. He’s just doing his job. You know a place like this has a certain image to uphold.”

“Yeah. How else would they get away with charging hundreds for a meal,” Mark muttered, but Kate pretended to not hear.

The lighting inside was dim and cozy; mostly candlelight reflecting off of gilt furnishings. Hushed by the projected prestige, the patrons all spoke in low whispers, blanketing the restaurant in an indistinct, velvety murmur, punctuated only by the occasional clink of silverware on china.

“Hi,” Mark said to the host. “We’re Jensen, seven o’clock reservation?”

Making a show of checking the book in front of him, the host looked at the couple over his wire-frame glasses and said. “Ah, yes, here you are. Very punctual. Right this way, please.”

“Do I look as uncomfortable as I feel?” Mark asked out of the corner of his mouth as they followed the host through the restaurant to their corner table.

“You’re doing great, honey,” Kate whispered back. “None of these stuffy blowhards knows how much you hate stuffy blowhards.”

“Here you are,” the host said with a gesture. “Your server will be with you in but a moment. Enjoy your evening.”

“Thank you,” Mark responded, pulling out a chair for Kate. As she sat he took off his suit jacket and draped it over the back of his chair and sat himself. The host gave the barest hint of a bow and returned to his station.

“I do appreciate you taking me here,” Kate said. “I know ritzy places like this make you uncomfortable. But I promise no one is judging either of us.”

“Easy for you to say,” Mark replied. “My parents weren’t high-powered lawyers back in California. I’ve never attended an event that could be referred to as a ‘gala’ with a straight face.”

Kate picked up the wine menu. “And you’re not missing anything. But *Chez Trois* is far from that. It’s pricey, maybe a bit elitist, but it’s also intimate and romantic. Perfect for celebrating our anniversary and your promotion.”

Mark glanced at his wine menu, but he might as well have been trying to decipher the rosetta stone. “You’re right. Can’t be all dive bars and lite beers.”

“Well, who knows?” Kate said, a sly look in her eyes. “The night’s just getting started.”

Mark raised an eyebrow. “Oh, really? And you have an idea how you want it to end?”

Kate smirked. “I at least know I want your cock inside me more than once.”

“Ah, er…good evening,” the waiter stammered, having just walked up to the table. Mark decided to give the wine menu another try, studying it intensely and trying to keep a straight face. Kate ran her tongue over her teeth, an embarrassed smile spreading across her face. “I could come back if you still need a moment?” the man said.

“Oh, no,” Kate answered, her eyes flashing. “I know exactly what I want tonight.”

The waiter, a thin, middle-aged man wearing a red silk vest, recovered his composure. “Excellent. My name is Stephen, and I will be serving you this evening. May I interest you in some wine?”

“Already am,” Kate said. “We’re celebrating, tonight.”

The waiter clapped his hands together. “Wonderful! What will you be having?”

“Any ideas, Mark?” Kate asked her lips pursed together in an attempt to cover her enjoyment from watching her husband squirm.

His brow furrowed, Mark continued to scrutinize the wine menu to no avail. “Uh, yeah, the…red? I’m in the mood for red wine.”

“We’ll take a bottle of the Beringer Private Reserve Cabernet Sauvignon,” Kate clarified with a giggle.

“Excellent choice,” Stephen said with a bow. “I shall have that for you right away.”

“It’s like you’re taking pleasure in embarrassing me,” Mark said as the waiter left the table.

Kate shook her head, but she couldn’t hide her grin. “No! Well, not just that. Years at the firm have made you so uptight. Not to mention how drained I’ve been after teaching and coaching. We never go wild like used to in college.”

“Sure, because we’re not college kids anymore. We’re adults,” Mark said.

Kate laid her hand over her husband’s. “And I’m not upset about that! I love teaching, I love our house, and I wouldn’t trade Amber for the world. I’m thrilled to grow old and grouchy with you. But that doesn’t mean we can’t have fun. One night to enjoy the finer things in life and loosen our collars wouldn’t hurt.”

Now it was Mark’s turn to smile. “You know what? I can’t argue with that. And I haven’t forgotten that I owe you for the ride over.”

“I hope I don’t have to wait too long for the payback,” Kate said.

Mark looked around the restaurant. “This place has a bathroom, right?”

“Marcus Nathaniel Jensen, are you implying something naughty?” Kate asked.

Mark leaned in. “No implications needed. I’m straight up telling you: I want to fuck you in the bathroom of this restaurant. I want to make you come on their fancy marble countertops. I want you to look into a gold-framed mirror and watch yourself get pounded, knowing that just a dozen feet away a hundred people are calmly eating their dinner. I want you have to bite down your screams so we don’t get kicked out of this place for being degenerates and soiling their establishment.”

Kate’s eyes grew wide. “I can’t argue with that,” she echoed.

“I didn’t think so,” Mark said, leaning back. “You want wild? You’ll get wild, tonight. We didn’t even do that in college. I see your road head and raise.”

“Are we having a competition?” Kate asked, her jaw hanging open in bewilderment.

“We’re having a celebration,” Mark returned. His expression became casual, nonchalant, and added, “One that I’ll win.”

Kate’s mouth closed in a grin, a mischievous glint in her eye. “You always were competitive. Just don’t get cocky.”

Stephen returned, placing a bottle and two wine glasses between them. “Shall you be starting with any appetizers tonight?”

“The escargot,” Mark replied. Kate raised her eyebrows in question. Mark shrugged. “I’ve never had that before.

The waiter nodded and slipped away. Kate poured the wine. “To new beginnings, then?” she said, raising her glass.

“To new beginnings,” Mark responded. They clinked their glasses together, and drank deep.

 

 

It had been a guess, but the bathroom did indeed have marble countertops. Luckily for them they were individual private rooms instead of public stalls, every bit as spacious and luxurious as the rest of the restaurant. Kate went in first, halfway through their meal. She checked herself in the wide, backlit mirror, practically squirming in anticipation.

A few minutes later, there was a slight knock on the door. She opened it a crack and Mark’s looked back at her, eager and excited.

“Do you think anyone noticed we both went into the same bathroom?” she asked, letting her husband in and shutting the door behind him. Her hand hovered over the door, about to lock it, but she let her hand drop.

“I don’t care,” Mark replied. Before Kate could say anything, Mark grabbed her face and kissed her.

She melted into him, draping her arms around his shoulders and parting her lips, letting his tongue into her mouth. Their tongues danced over each other as Mark backed her up until she bumped against the sink counter. Their lips still entwined, his hands traveled down the curves of her body and gripped her strong thighs. Without effort he hoisted her up onto the counter, so suddenly that Kate broke the kiss with a delighted laugh.

Hands still on her legs, Mark hooked his thumbs under the hem of her black dress and eased it up her thigh. He again captured her lips with his, their tongues meeting in passion. Kate inched her legs apart, helping her husband slide the dress up over her thick ass.

“Cold,” she said with a shiver.

“I’ll try and keep you warm,” Mark replied. He kissed her neck, and she arced her head back with a moan. Her hands ran up and down his back, and she hooked her legs around his him. She squeezed, pulling his waist into hers.

“God, I’m wet already,” she whispered in his ear. He put the flesh of her neck between his teeth and gave her a slight nibble. Her hands gripped the back of his shoulders. “Don’t…don’t leave a mark,” she said, her breathing heavy. “I have class on Monday.”
“I won’t,” he said, moving his kisses southward between words. “At least not where your students will see.”

Her students. In spite of her conservative attire in the classroom she had no doubt that her hornier male students fantasized about her. Teenage boys weren’t exactly subtle. But could they ever imagine her doing something like this? Maybe Jackie could, after walking in on them earlier.

Mark’s hands, caressing deeper down her thighs, brought her mind snapping back to focus. They slid around, each hand grabbing a cheek and squeezing. His head had descended into her cleavage, kissing the tops of her breasts. His hips began to gyrate slowly, the growing bulge in his pants grinding into her damp panties.

Trailing up her back, his hands reached her shoulders and tugged the straps of her dress down, exposing the bra pressing her tits together. His mouth returned to hers, and one at a time she pulled her arms through the straps, bunching her dress around her midsection.

With an experienced twist of his fingers he unhooked her bra and pulled it off her, tossing it on the counter beside them without breaking the kiss. He cupped her breasts, enjoying the feeling of them against his palms. His thumbs flicked and teased her erect nipples, and she moaned through their joined lips.

Her fingers slipped through his blond hair, finding as much purchase as she could and grabbing tight. The dams had broken, and a passion, too long deterred, had surged forth with tidal force. Her kiss was hungry, charged with a desperate need, fueled by an insistent ache deep within her. She couldn’t get enough of him, of his taste—would never get enough. Her other hand ran down the side of his face, feeling the stubble that had begun to poke through his cheek and tracing the strong, sure line of his jaw. Another moan, primal and urgent, arose from her unbidden. His confident hands continued to fondle her, continued to play with her nipples, sending electric charges reverberating through her body.

Lost in the passion, she caught his lower lip between her teeth and bit down.

“Ow!” Mark cried, reeling back in surprise.

The salty tang of blood blossomed on Kate’s tongue, and her husband wiped the trickle of red away from his chin. He looked at her in shock, and stared at the red stain on his fingers. She covered her mouth in surprise and guilt.

“I—I’m sorry,” she stammered. “I don’t know what—”

Then a look came over his eyes, at once both distant and immediate, as though a switch had been flipped inside him.

Like two waves crashing in a storm, he returned to her lips, drowning her apology in a torrent of passion. One hand gripped the back of her hair roughly, angling her head back. The other pressed itself in between her thighs, his fingers rubbing her through her panties.

He broke the kiss, wrapping his hands around her taut waist and lifted her up as though she weighed nothing. “Panties off,” he growled.

As fast as she could, she pulled her legs back and yanked her panties down. She only had time to pull one leg through before he put her bare ass back down and crouched before her, pushing her legs apart. Her feet in the air, panties dangling from one ankle, she put her hands behind her and leaned back, affording Mark the best view she could.

Her pussy was practically glistening. Her bare chest heaved with each heavy breath. Her hair, a mess from Mark’s grip, tumbled across her barely opened eyes.

Mark put his elbows on the counter, his hands on the underside of her thighs, keeping her legs spread. He savored the sight of her: the manicured tuft of pubic hair leading in a line to her sweet center. He breathed in deep, smelling the heady aroma of her sweat and juices. He wanted—he needed—to taste her.

Her thigh trembled as he kissed it, pressing his lips gently into her flesh at first but with an increasing pressure as he neared her waiting vagina. Starting with the outer lips, he outlined her pussy in kisses, acutely aware of how desperately his rock-hard cock fought against the restraint of his pants.

Kate moaned again, each kiss sending her heart fluttering. Her eyes closed in ecstasy, she tossed her head back, biting her lip.
Mark kissed the top of her pussy, his tongue shooting out to flick her clit. She gasped, and her hips bucked. Forcefully, his tongue continued to stimulate her. He traced patterns around her stiff nub, enjoying the visceral reaction it caused.

Shifting downward, his tongue slid into her pussy. He explored the walls inside her, lapping up her sweet taste.

“Oh, yes,” Kate murmured, bending forward and running a hand through his hair, her other grabbing her own breast. His cheek against her thighs, his hot breath on her when he came up for air, the radiating pleasure of each lick and stroke of his tongue—she was drunk on a cocktail of ecstasy.

Returning his focus to her clit, he moved a hand underneath his chin and slipped a finger between her sopping lips, eliciting another gasp. Still licking her, he slid another finger in, which her tight pussy accepted with a greedy hunger. Moving them in and out, he curled them inside her, moving them independently against her inner walls.

“Like that, don’t stop,” she breathed, her voice husky.

He worked his tongue and his fingers in tandem, feeling the intense pleasure it brought her by the almost painful vice grip she held his hair in.

“Oh, oh, fuck fuck fu…” Her voice trailed off into a hedonistic whimper.

Her hips bucked, grinding her crotch into her husband’s face. Her slick wetness dribbled down his chin and fingers, dripping unto the floor tiles like poured honey.

His pace increased. His fingers pumped. His tongue lashed her sensitive clit.

She could feel it building inside her. The walls of her pussy closed around his fingers. Her eyes shuttered.

A single shriek, a quick, one note clarion call of ecstasy, forced its way passed her shaking lips. She spasmed as she came.

Mark loved the feeling of Kate’s thighs quivering against his cheeks. He loved the shockwaves that erupted through her entire body when she orgasmed.

The coldness of the countertop long forgotten, she rocked back and forth as the aftershocks roiled through her. She gulped in air, a diver just surfaced.

Mark leaned back on his haunches, looking up and admiring the view. Her dropped legs hung over the counter, still shaking; her panties barely hanging off one foot. Her pussy shined with her wetness and his saliva. A wrinkled mess, her dress was a black tangle around her waist. Her firm tits jiggled with each gasping breath. Her face was flushed, her bright red lips a perfect O and her eyes half closed and unfocused, floating in the current of her orgasm.

With the back of his hand Mark wiped his mouth and smiled in satisfaction. Disheveled and still lost in the haze, this woman was every bit as beautiful as the girl he’d met in college, if not more so.

“I fucking love you,” he said.

Her breathing almost normal, she flipped the hair out of her face and slowly opened her eyes. She smiled back. “I fucking love you too,” she replied.

There was a tepid knock. Their heads whipped to the door, eyes wide. “If you’re quite done,” came the quavering, older voice of the woman outside, “I’ve waited long enough now.”

Kate’s smiled turned into a sheepish grin. Mark stood and helped her down.

“Yeah, uh…we’ll be out in a second,” he said as his wife put her free leg through her panties and pulled them back up.

Mark handed Kate her bra and she quickly refastened it, pulling her dress back into place and trying in vain to fluff out the wrinkles. She noticed the unabated erection straining against Mark’s pants and ran her fingers across it.

“Looks like we don’t have the time for a proper fuck,” she said with a pout directed at the door. “But we don’t have to go straight home after dinner.”

“Especially if they kick us out right now,” Mark said, exhilaration washing away any notion of shame or embarrassment.

“Only one way to find out,” Kate replied.

She opened the door.

 

To be continued

Source: reddit.com/r/Erotica/comments/6q8gyb/night_on_the_town_part_2_mf_oral_lite_exh_third

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