I felt like a guy – torn between two heads. The one on my shoulders, the thinking one, wanted this to stop. To say that I didn’t feel well, excuse ourselves and go home to rip each other’s clothes off and have at it in the privacy of our own home. But the other head, situated between my legs, suddenly didn’t want to be denied either the orgasm, or the publicity.
My voyeur was turning me on. What the hell was wrong with me?
Defying myself, I parted my legs again, letting Jake regain his rhythm, while I let my eyes seek out my Peeping Tom. He’d turned a 180 from our table, his silver hair resting on his wrist, elbow propped on the table. He’d blocked me out, deliberately.
While I’d freaked out only moments ago that he’d been watching I was now possessed with an idea: he had to watch me. I let my eyes smolder in his direction, while I studied his build. He was tall, ranging, lean – his pants looked loose around his legs and his shoulders were narrow. Like a veteran runner. I closed my eyes, pretending, for the first time in my marriage what it would be like if it were his fingers inside me. A total stranger, just fingering me, in a public place. I moistened even more at the thought, and realizing I was doing this, shifted my hips a little more toward Jake.
But I couldn’t take my eyes off the voyeur and his date as they finished ordering. She was a bubbly blonde, closer to my age than his. She babbled on so eagerly that she didn’t notice he wasn’t paying any attention – his fingers drummed impatiently on the table and his head nodded off in multiple directions, checking out the rest of the room. Everywhere but where I was seated.
He finally glanced around, as if to check whether the coast was clear, and spotting the action turned quickly and politely away again. But the back of his neck scorched, while I could tell his date’s conversation was now really irritating him. His fingers drummed on the table again, almost in time with Jake’s delicious beat.
Their food arrived a short time later, and as his date picked up and examined the food like it was an experiment, he took the opportunity to glance my way again. His turn was slow, deliberate, and our eyes met.
His were china blue and creased with laugh lines. Their expression was remarkably innocent, despite his age. He looked at me in open shock and wonder, as his lips parted a little. I looked back at him, willing my face to communicate equal innocence -- that I didn’t know why, only that I needed him to watch. I opened my legs a little more, so he could see me more clearly under my skirt. His eyes widened, while the rest of him went still. The drumming on the table ceased. He nodded indifferently as his date stood and gestured for the bathroom, his eyes never leaving me. But the relief of his face was palpable -- he didn’t have to feign paying attention to her any more.
Jake’s fingers crooked inside me, and I spasmed at the touch, soaking Jake’s hand. China Blue licked his lips before realizing what he was doing. He flushed at his own lewd gesture and reached for his water glass. I smiled to let him know that yes, I realized his mouth had gone dry.
Jake smiled too, but didn’t turn. He was still responsible for feigning interest in dinner conversation. Our voyeur belonged to me alone, and I was suddenly curious what to do with my audience. Spotting my water, I smiled slightly and reached for it, teasing the straw to my lips. My eyes stayed focused on him as I took a long draw off the tip, while my body shuddered again as Jake’s fingers reached a crescendo inside me. Sensing I was about to come again, he let one finger slip out of my pussy and into my anus.
My mouth parted, and I came wildly, the beads of sweat on my forehead going cold with air-conditioning from the vent above our table. I had to concentrate to keep from bucking my legs. China Blue’s eyes danced, while Jake’s hand squeezed my thigh before slipping slowly away.
Jake gave me a private smile as he wiped his hands under the table with his napkin. I jolted, feeling as though I’d cheated on him. I silently vowed not to look at my voyeur again as I kissed my husband lightly.
Peripheral sounds faded back in – the hush of conversations, the clinking of plates and glasses, the whir of the air-conditioning. Their clatter made me feel exposed and dirty. I started shifting in my seat, trying to work my skirt back down to an appropriate level under the table. The seat was so moist I had to scoot to the edge of it as I glanced around the table for a remedy.
I interrupted a conversation about historic district permitting to ask, “Do we have any more napkins?”
“Madison! You’ve been quiet there,” Kendra’s eyes narrowed as she passed down the napkin dispenser. She suspected something.
“I uh, spilled something on my skirt.” Jake grinned like a rooster, and Kendra’s eyes shifted back and forth between us, suspicious. I kept on inventing. “Stupid of me. I’ve got a new story I’m working on, and I just drifted away there for a bit and dropped some raita.”
“You look a little red there, honey. You sure you’re feeling okay?” Jake was smiling as he asked.
I shot him a look as I pretended to dab at my skirt. When our friends focus left me once again, I patted the chair itself, and suddenly broke my vow not to look over.
A waiter stood over China Blue, accepting his card. His date had returned from the bathroom, and was busy texting someone. She pointed at her phone, as if to announce where they needed to be, and he nodded. When the waiter returned, he signed the bill and grabbed at the jacket he’d slung over the chair before getting up. I smiled, guessing he had a hard-on. Folding the jacket under his arm, he touched his date’s back lightly, guiding her out of the restaurant without a glance at me.
Good thing, good thing, I told myself. So why was I so disappointed? Because I’d given a perfect stranger a free show, that’s why. And I didn’t even merit a nod. Was I that boring? That ugly? That inexperienced. I felt like the virgin wife all over again – someone too plain, too dull, to entice anyone, even when I was trying to be erotic.
A hot flush crept over the back of my neck. I felt dirty, smelly, and just plain crazy. I wanted to go to the bathroom and clean myself up, right now, but I didn’t want to risk rising in front of everyone. I patiently listened to dinner conversation for about thirty seconds before interrupting, “Um, don’t we have to settle the check?”
“We just did. Jesus, Maddie. Where did you go?” Denise asked.
“Sorry, sorry.”
“We about ready to head out?” Tommy asked. Denise nodded and the four of them rose in union and looked at us questioningly. “You guys coming?”
Jake smiled sheepishly. “Not tonight. We’re, uh, going to do a little shopping.” My eyebrows raised in surprise, unsure whether he was merely providing some cover for me, or whether he genuinely had something in mind. Where could he possibly want to take me? Especially in the condition I was in?
Kendra’s brow furrowed with the same question. “Where are you going? The mall’s already closed.”
But Denise guessed and grinned. “You’re going next door, aren’t you?”
Jake grinned right back and nodded. “We haven’t been able to do any shopping for a long while, as you guys know, so I thought it would be fun. Way to celebrate Madison’s book selling.”
Tommy high-fived him across the table. “You guys have fun, okay? I LOVE that place!” He waggled a finger. “And don’t buy anything I wouldn’t buy!”
“What’s next door? Why don’t we all go?” Kendra whined.
Denise patted her on the back and said, “Cause it’s Adam and Eve. Strictly couples shopping, sweetie. Let the love birds have their time.” Denise waved and guided a still protesting Kendra out the door.
“Adam and Eve? Tonight? I’m…” I gestured at my lap helplessly.
Jake shrugged. “What, you think that’s new up there? Use the bathroom here. You’ll be fine. C’mon Maddie, you said you wanted to explore, let’s explore,” he pleaded. “I planned dinner here, just so we could go. Don’t think I’ve ever taken you to a sex shop.”
“I don’t think I’ve ever been in one, actually.” My panic started to rise ag
ain. Even if I could clean myself up, the sexual confidence I’d felt all week had abruptly left the building with China Blue. But I owed my loyalty to Jake. He’d done this all for me, and the moment was supposed to have been between the two of us. “It’ll be fun,” I announced. I eyeballed the room. “You think it’s safe for me to trek to the bathroom? Will you check the back of my skirt when I get up?”
Jake nodded eagerly as I rose. His eyes shifted to the back of my skirt. “All clear,” he whispered and suddenly smacked my butt. I yelped, and several patrons turned. Jake waved at them.
“Jake!” I said chastisingly.
“What?” he said innocently.
I feigned indignance and moved quickly through the dining room, relieved to see the bathroom was a single. Locking the door behind me, I shoved my wet panties deep into the trash, and proceeded to wash away the smell of disappointment. Again I wondered, what the hell is wrong with me?
I looked at myself in the mirror. I looked like I’d just climbed out of bed – I’d sweated off my makeup, while an orgasm, infused with total humiliation, had left my face red and blotchy. Lipstick gone, except for the outer rim. The painstaking curls I’d placed in my dark hair had gone flat and stringy.
No wonder China Blue had left without another glance. I was hardly worth looking at.
I washed and carefully reapplied my makeup, knowing I still had another public appearance to make, even if I no longer wanted to go. Jake’s made this week all about you, I reminded myself sternly. You need to do this for him, and you need to make it memorable. Forget China Blue. He’s not your husband, the man who loves you. You’ll never see the guy again anyway, so why worry about whether or not he liked the show? Let’s face it. The guy you love is right outside, and ready to take you shopping somewhere you’ve never dared to go. How bad can it be?
“It’s not,” I told myself in the mirror. “It’s going to be fun. I’ll make it fun.” I finished applying my lipstick and examined myself in the mirror. I was attractive. I was young. I was a published author, which meant I had the imagination and drive to make a trip to the sex shop unique. I gave my boobs a final adjustment and unlocked the door, pulling it open while I was still certifying myself in the mirror.
A body rapidly pushed inside the bathroom, shutting the door. I startled, my mouth dropping open as a pair of now familiar china blue eyes peered into mine from millimeters away. I noted the laugh line creases around his eyes, the raw musculature of his face and arms, which were surprisingly taut considering the whitening hairs. He was older than I’d thought – closer to 50 than 40 – but more handsome, in the most classical sense of the word.
His breath was hot on my face. Perspiration appeared in little beads across his forehead, while his hands were awkward and unsure, lifting and falling again to his side. His nervousness rendered him a teenager who’d suddenly and inexplicably swapped bodies with a much older man.
His mouth moved with unspoken words several times before he finally admitted in a husky tenor, “I claimed I forgot my phone just to come back and find you. I’ve never…” He balked at finishing the sentence and started again. “I saw your boyfriend out there. I figured you had to be in here.”
I was still staring.
“That was…” He ran a hand through his silver hair as he contemplated his next words. He choked out, “You’re the most beautiful woman I have ever seen.” He leaned over me, his china blue eyes wide and tender as he waited for my response.
My heart flip-flopped with his admission, coupled with his ungainly approach. He was innocent, despite his age. And I’d tormented him on a level I’d never imagined possible. He wasn’t just some gross old guy following a girl into the bathroom in the hope of getting lucky. He wasn’t trying to touch me. He was moved. He was also physically asking a question he had a logical right to ask, considering what I’d done.
Without knowing what I was doing until I did it, I stood on tiptoe – he was remarkably tall – and kissed him lightly. His lips were surprisingly soft, but they pressed hard in return, to demonstrate the force of his attraction.
I’d only intended to kiss him softly for a second and say no, but the taste of his passion was salty and hypnotizing. His tongue was instantly searching for mine, and on finding it, sucking it deep inside his own mouth, while his hands abandoned their awkwardness as they found their way to my waist, and quickly beyond. I felt his hand sliding easily down the back of my lycra skirt and onto my bare ass, while the other was snaking up and inside my Wonder bra. I meanwhile felt his erection engorging as he pressed closer to me.
I was instantly wet with excitement. I wanted this man. Right now. In a bathroom at a restaurant. While Jake was right outside.
Jake.
I ripped away, my face flush, clothes askew, hair mussed, all over again. I gasped and admitted, “He’s not my boyfriend. He’s my husband.”
His eyes grew wide at the admission and he dropped his hands. “Why –“ He ran one through his silver hair, his eyes darting away, only to find the mirror reflecting his rejection. He cast his eyes on the floor. “Why did you do it, then?”
“I don’t know. I’ve never done anything like that before. Or this,” I gestured to him and then to the bathroom walls. I started straightening my clothes, smoothing my hair. “I’ve never done anything…” I faltered at how to explain, because there wasn’t any explaining me. I waited until he looked up to confess, “ I seem to have lost my way a bit. I’m sorry.”
He folded his arms, his voice scathing. “You’re sorry.”
Noting the change in tone, I reached for the doorknob. His hand abruptly pressed on the door. “Wait. Take my card? Just in case you change your mind?”
I shook my head, but I couldn’t look at him. “I’m not -- who you think I am. There wouldn’t be any point.” He nodded and opened the door himself. I looked at those china blue eyes one last time. “You seem like a really nice guy, I --”
He held a finger to my lips to signal me not to finish. “You go ahead. I’ll wait a few minutes.”
I practically skittered out of the bathroom, and stood by the server’s entrance to the kitchen for a few seconds just to catch my breath.
Jake smiled widely at me when I returned, his eyes twinkling. “I was just about to come get you, actually.” I panicked, freezing where I stood until he waggled his eyes and continued, “Figured you might’ve needed some help finishing yourself off.”
“What? Oh! No. Hey, are you ready? That place probably closes within the hour.” I shuffled my bag to indicate my impatience to leave. I didn’t want to run into China Blue again. In fact, I was already plotting my excuses if Jake ever proposed eating here again.
Jake meanwhile threw up his hands. “One minute you’re all nervous about going to a sex shop, the next you’re in a hurry to get there. I can’t keep up.” But he nevertheless rose from the table, peering into my eyes. “You sure you’re okay?”
I turned my eyes toward the door, worried they’d mirror the indiscretion I’d just made. “I’m great! Let’s get out of here!”
Adam and Eve was at the top of a set of stairs smothered in royal purple carpeting. Couples were pouring in, and noting the number that was holding hands, I grabbed at Jake’s.
Jake looked at me and smiled again at my presumed modesty. “What? It’s fine,” he insisted.
That wasn’t why I was doing it, but I let it ride, focusing on the Catholic school girl costume right inside the doorway. Jake followed my stare and grinned. “Now that’s one for you!”
I felt my sense of self returning. I teased, “Yeah? You’d like to see me in that?”
“I’d like to see you out of that,” he drooled.
A middle aged but incredibly sexy black clerk with bedazzled hair and jeans greeted us, “Welcome, welcome! Let me know if I can help you find anything or answer any questions. We just got a new shipment of Nipple Nibblers in, I’m unloading them right now, and they’re on sale.”
Jake nodded to
her, “Might be time to stock up. Thank you.” He mouthed the words “Nipple Nibblers, mmm….” In my ear as the clerk hustled off. I elbowed him, giggling nervously.
I was unsure where to go, and Jake provided no direction. I knew if I stayed in the clothing section, he’d want me to start trying stuff on. I wasn’t ready for that – my clothes were already feeling a little too light on my body for comfort this evening – so I headed for the sex toys.
Jake followed me as I peered, read box covers, and daintily picked up brightly packaged products. Going into any regular store, I knew what 95% of the stuff was, or I was at least familiar with the brand names. Here, aside from the obvious rubber schlongs, I knew nothing. Everything was new and most of it battery-powered. I looked at two small, ergonomically shaped things, mystified.
“They’re eggs,” Jake explained. “One for here,” he placed a hand low on my hip. “And one for…”I hastily put them back, my hands fluttering with unnecessary embarrassment. Everyone in the store was very careful not to make eye contact with anyone except their partner, and all conversations were held at library-level whisper. But I was still worried, still rattled from my encounter with China Blue, wondering how and why I’d momentarily forgotten Jake and wondering what would’ve happened if I hadn’t remembered when I did?
The Virgin Wife Page 3