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Kitten is a Tease

My wife Cindy was away for the week on a cross country business trip. Excited for her return and wanting to show her how much I missed her, I decided to set out a nice candle light diner for her return. The kids were off at college and we lived alone. We were in our late forties and ever since the kids went off at school, well lets just say, we quickly rediscovered our sexual zest. So after a week apart, not to mention the long distance teasing by phone and text, we both wanted one thing.

Cindy is a national sales manager for an international conglomerate. She is very successful at her job and for all the stress associated with it, the firm treats her very well. I'll be honest, I would not want to be sitting on the opposite side of the table from her in a negotiation. Unlike all her kindness towards me in our personal life, in business she can be a tigress on the prowl, deliberate and cunning with a pleasant smile on her face as she slowly traps and eviscerated her prey. Don't get me wrong, she has a great reputation but she knows how to drive a deal on her terms. As for me, she tells everyone that I'm her "caring hunk fireman". As for the 'hunk' part, I beg to differ- I'm just a modest guy.

I sat in the dining room waiting for Cindy to come home. The candles and fireplace flickered, reflecting off the silverware and shadowing the dimly lit room. I heard the door open.

"Honey?" she called out.

"The dining room, Kitten," I replied.

I heard her shoes on the wood floor and instantly knew the sounds of her high heels and exactly which ones she was wearing. I rose to meet her.

"Wow, this is all so nice and unexpected... you are such a dear," she said giving me a peck me on the cheek, "I'll be right back, promise."

Cindy put her rolling bag in the corner and quickly left the room. Then she returned, leaned over, opened the bag and rummaged for something. I took in her outfit- it was what I called her 'sexy business suit'- a four button tight fitting black hip length jacket with a plunging V-neck line, a black skirt that went down to her mid thigh, coffee brown vintage silk seamed stockings, and, black spiked heels. To compliment it she wore a single short strand of pearls around her neck. Her ears were barely covered by her short conservative hair style but I knew she was wearing matching pearl earrings. But what always caught my attention were her ruby red lips, piercing eyes and sexy legs, and she knew it. As she bent over, the short skirt rose giving me a flash of her lace patterned stocking tops, white suspenders and pale skin. She lingered in that position longer than what I thought normal and finally stood up, a sense of frustration on her face as she left the room holding up a finger telling me one more moment. My girl is good to me. She can be the consummate tease. When I see those stockings, and she knows they are my favorite, I know what she is thinking of only me.

Cindy returned to the room, bent over and rummaged in the bag again, giving me that same beautiful view. I could see her peaking at me trying to determine if I was taking in the good show. Acting frustrated, she stood, frowned and inexplicably said, "oh well," before curling into my lap and put her arms around my shoulders. "Sorry to keep you waiting," she said just before bringing her warm lips to mine in a soft "welcome home and I missed you" kiss. Our tongues danced in a slow passionate, subtle manner as our hands roamed across our bodies, reacquainting ourselves with one another, affirming we were again together. I was her first and only and she adored me.

Cindy broke the kiss, "Honey, I have something to tell you."

"Oh?"

"I've been a bit of a bad girl," she stated with a pout on her face.

"Go on Kitten."

"Well, on the plane ride home, I was seated in first class, against the window. The middle seat was empty but on the aisle was this handsome strapping younger man. I could tell he was muscular and built for power. I was bored and feeling playful."

"Bored and playful? Bad mix for you Babe," I said, not alarmed, Cindy being one who would never stray, maybe just innocently tease a little.

"Well, I went to the bathroom, took off my bra- it was so uncomfortable- and returned to my seat. I sat down and discretely unbuttoned the top button of the jacket because I was hot. I sat upright reading. Well no sooner did I adjust than his eyes caught a view of my goods. I must confess, the whole thing suddenly turned me on and my nipples went pert really fast. He saw me and I knew it. He kept reading his magazine but from the corner of his eye, I saw him glimpsing over at me."

"Is that all?" I asked, "Is that where it ends?"

"Kind of..." Cindy replied with hesitation in her voice before kissing me again.

"Kind of?" I muttered in a low tone as I broke the kiss.

"Well, as I sat upright, the darn seat was so uncomfortable and I kept shifting my hips and crossing my legs. With each shift and cross, my skirt slowly shimmied up my legs and i did not notice it rising. I do not know how long the skirt was hiked up and I never noticed Mr. Sexy looking at my stocking clad thighs. Then I looked over at him to see if he was sneaking a peak at my good and his eyes suddenly shifted away, but this time he had been looking down towards my legs and that was when I realized my situation. He knew he was caught as he stared down into his magazine acting like he was deep in thought. At first I was mad at myself for being so cavalier. Then I realized I had complete control of him. It was suddenly invigorating..... You do understand, don't you?"

"Is there more?" I asked reserving judgment.

"Yes," she confessed, "there is... then I also realized he could see the the lace stocking tops, I decided to slowly run my hand up and down the length of my delicious thigh, nonchalantly dragging my long manicured nails across the silk. By now the sun had set so I turned on the overhead light to read, and 'illuminate' the subject matter. Mr. Sexy chose to sit in the dark. As I ran my hand across my thigh, I could see the bulge in his pants growing. Then he got to squirming in his seat. He would glance over, his eyes riveted on me. After I let him look for a few minutes, I would try catching him and he would look away. This went on for half an hour or so, a slow steady back and forth of voyeur frustration and anticipation."

"Did you talk with him?"

"No," she answered, "No words were spoken.... And let me tell you, he was no ordinary guy. No, he had to be an artist. He just had that look- a guy in his early thirties, a bit more than a five o'clock shadow, long black hair, a chiseled build- his biceps stretching the cuffs of his short sleeve black t-shirt, the shirt hugging his sculpted pecs, tracing their contour for all to see the definition, strong hands, observant eyes and calm confidence... He is probably the guy who rises at dawn and sits outside in the sunrise on the edge of some desert cliff doing yoga and meditating before rising to go paint or sculpt in his window enclosed art studio overlooking some gorgeous desert valley.... I just sat there pondering him as he pondered me... all I could imagine was he was the guy who was commissioned to paint married women in the nude... and after hours of observing them in studio from afar, studying the curves of their bodies, the way they moved, their complexions, trying to figure out who they were and infuse their feelings into their portrait, after hours of meticulous work and conversation getting to know them, around noon he would stop painting and then need to study his models some more... and if I was one of them, I know he would walk over, and without a word and without permission, pick me up at the hips and sit me atop a long sturdy table by a window overlooking some placid ravine with everything still and quiet, and, not a word spoken between us, he would part my thighs and lower his face into me... smell my essence... taste my bush... then my tender lips... lean me back.... climb atop the table and hover between my parted thighs... I would look up into his eyes and he would look back as he lowered himself into me, a slow and deep penetration of his stiff wide cock to make me quietly gasp, quip his name... and then he would take me in a slow and tender manner... a meditation to study the soul, study my face, my expressions and cries of passion... to feel my flesh and how I move... he would slowly build me up and make me writhe in an intense marathon of teasing passion play... and when I finally begin to shudder, he would gently push deep into me, hold himself still and cum in me a quiet confident meditative way..... he would make it all about me..."

I loved her for being such a minx. As she sat in my lap confessing her transgressions, she was grinding her fine round ass into me. I returned her advance, wrapping my arm around her curvaceous hips and placing a hand between her inner thighs, my fingers gently toying with her as she recanted for me.

Cindy went to kiss me again. It was a prayer for forgiveness- her hands rested on my shoulders as she faced me and reached up for my kiss. Actually, I was not mad, I was turned on by my wife's debauchery.

Cindy tenderly held the sides of my face with her hands. "Honey, I've missed you... and have been a bad girl," she said.

"More?" I asked perplexed as she stood up, leaned forward, placed her hands flat on the table, ankles together, knees locked and pushed her sinful ass up and out in an offering to me. I lifted her skirt over her hips and admired her round shapely ass and thighs, muscular and proportionate for her build, perfectly encased in the vintage silk stockings, the seam running perfectly up the back of her leg- a model of perfection, and brought my face to her privates and inhaled deep, savoring her hungered scent. Then I pulled down her panties revealing her hairy pursed lips, beautiful lips waiting for attention. My hands caressed her ass, feeling its shape and warmth as my mind fantasized of how it would ripple. Cindy breathed deep as I savored her and made her wait.

I stood up and reached under to unbutton her jacket before taking the blouse by the collar and ripping it apart, the buttons sent dancing across the hard mahogany table top, clicking and clacking as they skidded into the dark recesses of the room. Cindy gasped as her beautiful breasts were unleashed to sway free below her. I took one in my hand and plied her warm feminine flesh, feeling the ridges and bumps of her areola, the nub of her stiff nipple between my fingers as I gently pulled at it. My other hand went for her backside, two fingers penetrating and teasing her wet sex, slowly penetrating in a circular motion, toying her slick warm walls.

"Dirty girl," I commented.

"Honey, I took it to far. I am a bad girl."

My cock had grown heavy and I stood Cindy up and helped remove the jacket and blouse before showing her back down to the table top. I dropped my pants and brought my thick eager sex to her wet folds. Without a moments hesitation I penetrated her hairy sodden cunt, the one I had lusted for all week. I held myself still within her. I leaned over and pushed her head down and held her to the table, her body pressed down in submission. I surveyed her hips, how her midsection tapered in until her back fanned out- the curves of a beautiful woman.

"... Honey, there is one more thing I need to tell you..... You know how my skirt came up as I shifted in my seat?" she asked as I teased her with my cock.

"Yes..."

"Well, near an hour into my little show, I looked down and realized it had come a little to far up and my lacy panty was exposed... just the very bottom of the triangle, and, I do not know for how long."

She paused for a moment contemplating her next words, "... and Honey, that is not the worst of it..... There is more...." she said with subtle trepidation.

"Oh?" I asked.

"... These panties are the ones that don't fit very well, the loose ones.... Honey, the panties slid to the side...." she paused for a moment, "..... and Honey, Mr. Sexy saw my pussy hair...."

"Kitten, you let another man see your pussy hair?"

"Yes... but there is even more..."

"More?" I asked.

"Yes... You see the mixture of power, seduction and fantasy got me really excited... my pussy was aching really bad... after a while I felt a stirring and looked down only to realize my inner folds were peaking out from my slit... Honey, before I realize it, Mr. Sexy got a glimpse of my pussy lips... another man saw my pussy... How does that make you feel?.... Honey, are you mad?" she asked, "please tell me you are not mad that another man saw my pussy?"

"Shame on you for your recklessness Kitten," I replied as I hammered at her, sending her body lunging forward, her motion only stopped by the edge of the table against her thighs.

"Should I not tell you I turned off the cabin light and let him touch it in the dark?... that he slowly ran his finger up and down the crinkled moist edges and then tasted it?... It might be your pussy but maybe I shared it.... and maybe I liked it...."

I raised my chest high and pushed deep into her and held myself fast, "That is it Honey, just like we talked on Wednesday... fuck me, fill me with your cum... and then do you remember what I want you to do? To pull out- I want to feel those seedy pearls roll out of my dirty spent cunt and down my thighs as you spank my naughty ass..."

My cock was steel hard and twitching, my desires beyond control. I put my hands on her shoulders where they met her neck and held her down. I thrust into Cindy really hard, "Oh yes," she quipped, "...come on Honey, reclaim your pussy."

My fingers dug into her flesh as I pillaged her with unmitigated lust until I thrust deep and came hard, "That's it Honey, show me who owns it," she urged as I shuddered and moaned, painting her velvety walls with my creamy seed, pooling it within her aching cunt. Cindy moaned and pushed back hard, coaxing it out of me, "yes... cum in it Honey," she hissed, "cum in it, take it back...."

And there you have it. That's my girl. I told you she is good to me and a consummate tease. Did she really do what she said? You will never know. Kitten was very specific regarding her desires. Did I fulfill them? I won't tell you now. Just remember, Kitten likes physical exhibition. I prefer mine to be literary. Maybe the next time you check in, I will have posted my story of what happened next to my naughty teasing Kitten....

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