Wednesday, March 29, 2017

"I might have a surprise for you later" ~ Part 3

Now it's my turn to be like Lucy (always telling Charlie Brown to kick the football, promising she won't move it, and then pulling it away just as he tries to kick it). I know I promised you in Part 2 that I would give you Part 3 today but the truth is nothing happened at lunch time on Monday. Okay, a lot happened actually - but there was no sex. Yes, my wife did come home for 'lunch', and a leather skirt was slowly unzipped in our home office... but... once again my wife failed to follow through on her teasing.

This is what I've been waiting for! Lusting for!! Is it too much to ask?!

It went down like this (and FYI: I'm typing this on Monday night):

My wife had meetings all day, starting at 8.30am. She did have what seemed to be two hours free at lunchtime but that means nothing. My wife doesn't always put everything in our shared calendar so I can often be disappointed when she doesn't turn up because she had something else on that she'd omitted to tell me. Like lunch with a friend or shopping or a mid afternoon cocktail. I say 'disappointed' because for a while there I was trying to shake up our staid marriage by doing something out of left field - like planning a lunch, or a walk (with the dog) in the park, or ... a nooner (hey, I'm still a man - sue me!).

But none of these plans ever happen so now I don't bother. She marches to the beat of her own drum so now I just wait and see if maybe she's going to come and bang the drum with me.

She never does.

Which was why I was surprised when she came home at 11.45 today. Was it possible that I was going to finally learn the secret of "I might have a surprise for you later" - a tease that had been dangled since Friday afternoon? She certainly seemed dressed for the part - a sheer white blouse that showed her black bra underneath, and a new black leather skirt below. 

As she walked into our home office from the garage I expressed my pleasant surprise to see her.

"I wasn't expecting to see you - are you home for lunch?" I said, smiling.

"No, I've just finished a late brunch actually, I've just eaten" she replied, walking over and bending down to give me a kiss on the cheek.

I put my hands on her hips and ran them down her outer thighs, feeling the soft leather.

"Is this new?" I asked, "it's leather, right?"

"Yes, I got it in London last year but I haven't had a chance to wear it before"

I wondered what sort of meetings she'd had that morning that necessitated such a sexy outfit but then the penny dropped. According to her calendar she was meeting her BNG sub group at 2.30pm for their monthly session of personal/business growth/mentorship. Basically the BNG (Business Networking Group) have smaller sub groups of eight people, and these meet monthly to discuss what they've done in the past month both personally and in business - what successes they've had and what failures - and between them they figure out how to improve themselves.

My wife's subgroup are all men. And mostly all Alpha Males. Hence the leather skirt and sheer blouse?

I decided to reverse my earlier position which, as I mentioned in last week's TMI Tuesday, is: 
We are back to me refusing to initiate sex, since it is clear my wife is not interested and I am sick of degrading myself by 'forcing' myself upon her.
I had given my wife enough time since her tease on Friday afternoon to actually follow through and she hadn't. It was also now 3 weeks since we'd last had sex, which is about my limit. Why continue to wait for her to initiate since clearly she wasn't going to? Against my own advice (she's gonna pull the football away again!) I decided to make a move.  I spun her around and pulled her into my lap, in my office chair.

She could feel my erection, there was no denying it. 

I ran my hands down her hips and forward over her thighs. "This leather feels nice" I said, "it's so soft." I kept my hands moving, running them back up her thighs, past her hips, and up to her breasts. I gave them a gentle squeeze, noticing immediately that her nipples were not hard, so I moved my hands around to her back - running them up her spine and then to her shoulders - which I massaged. 

"Mmmm" she said, leaning forward and down a little so I could run my hands all over her back and shoulders, "that feels nice." She gripped the armrests of my office chair and wiggled her butt on my dick ever so slightly. "Mmmmm" she said again. I unzipped the back of her skirt and ran my fingers all the way down her spine, and then back up again. As I continued the gentle massage I asked "what time is your next meeting?" even though I already knew it was at 2.30pm. It was 12pm now.

"2.30" she said, getting up. "Let me check my emails and then maybe we can go upstairs...?"

Her voice trailed away at the second part. My inner voice said "it aint gonna happen" but my other inner voice said "Stay positive! remain upbeat!"

So my wife checked her emails. My wife replied to some emails. My wife sent some new emails. My wife checked to see if anyone had replied to those new emails. My wife printed something for her 2.30pm meeting with her BNG buddies. The printer was out of ink, so my wife cursed the printer, replaced the ink cartridge, and resumed printing. Then... she was all done!

It was now 12.45pm. One hour since she'd come home, and one hour left to 'go upstairs' if she was going to make it to her 2.30pm meeting.

Her phone rang. She answered it. She talked to the woman for what seemed like 20 minutes, laughing a lot about who knows what. When my wife finished the call she shared with me what they had been laughing about. I honestly can't recall now what that was. My wife then switched the conversation to the differences between her new best friend and her old best friend. She was still friends with her old best friend, there would always be that bond, but her new friend was so much more supportive and wasn't in a competition with her. Her old best friend was. 

I made supportive noises to show I was listening but my internal clock was ticking. I was running through my head how long it would take before we 'went upstairs'. And then how long we could have sex for. I wanted to make it good, and I wanted to take a long time eating out that smooth bare pussy, but my wife was talking so much I suspected it may end up just being a quickie, which would be a shame.

It was a shame because I knew that just as I was calculating how long we could romp in the bed for, my wife was calculating how much time she would need to get dressed again, re-apply her make-up, and make herself look presentable for the 2.30pm meeting. I estimated 20 minutes, with another 20 minutes for her to drive to her 2.30pm meeting. This wasn't leaving much time. I decided to stop the conversation by making sure my replies didn't keep opening it up further. It stalled, then stopped.

This is how I sometimes imagine her with her Alpha Male BNG buddies! Ha!
(and I suspect this is how she imagines it too sometimes!!)
I could almost see the lightbulb go off above her head: "Better check my portfolio" she mumbled to herself, but loud enough for me to hear. So she logged into her stockbrokers account and checked her investments. Two stocks had dropped significantly, she informed me. "I better send a 'please explain' email to my investment advisor" she said, so she did.

It was now 1.45pm. Two hours since she'd come home, and no time left to 'go upstairs' if she was going to make it to her 2.30pm meeting. Not unless it was a super quick quickie. 

"Do you mind dropping me at my meeting?" she asked, "then I don't have to worry about having to find a park"

"Sure" I replied, as I calculated how much extra time that would give us for a quickie before we left. Obviously a fuck was probably out of the question, but maybe a quick handjob and oral would be possible. Not oral for her of course, because that would mean she'd need time to get dressed again, but I could get mine and she could have hers later that night. Because I was serious about eating her out and I really love to take my time when I'm devouring that juicy peach.

"Good" she said, "I'll just go upstairs and find a jacket because after my meeting I'm going out to dinner. One of the BNG guys from [out of state] is visiting so we're all going to a restaurant later"

And there went my quickie. As every married man knows 'finding a jacket' is not the same as 'grabbing a jacket'. A guy will take 2 seconds to 'grab a jacket'. He simply scans his wardrobe, thinks 'that will do', and then grabs the jacket hanging in front of him. A woman will spend 20 minutes 'finding a jacket'. She scans her wardrobe, picks out 3 or 4, tries them all on, checks herself in the mirror from every angle, and then finally chooses one. And then takes it off and decides on #5 - a different one entirely. 

And so here I sit. Typing as I eat my dinner alone. Ever the eternal optimist I can't help but wonder if we will finally 'go upstairs' when she comes home from the restaurant? Will I then discover her 'surprise'? Stay tuned! If you enjoy gambling feel free to give the odds of us actually doing anything tonight (Monday) in the comments section below!! If we do I will publish that story on Thursday (tommorrow, as you read this).

Read Part 1 [Here]
Read Part 2 [Here]
If something happens tonight (don't hold your breath) I will tell that story here in Part 4 [Here].

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