The Night Out by Big_Boss_77
Experience the thrill of passion and desire in 'The Night Out,' an erotic sex story that ignites fantasies and explores intimacy. Dive into a world of seductive encounters and tantalizing moments that will keep you captivated. Read on for an unforgettable journey into lust and romance!<br/>
The Night Out
It had been a while since we were afforded the luxury of a night out, life being the way it is. Stuff always seemed to pile up in the way…stuff for work, stuff for the farm, stuff with the kid. Stuff. Stuff always seemed to be in our way. Not tonight however, tonight was about us. Tonight, we were newly weds. Tonight, we were kids again, climbing into the truck to go for a drive. Going to explore…explore the world, explore ourselves…explore each other. Tonight was ours. Tonight, we took for ourselves, without thought or care for anything but our own wants or desires.
We arrived at dinner, happily clinging to each other like teenagers, drawing smirks and looks of derision in equal measure…my hand around your waist, resting lightly on your ass as I gently guide you to our table, following the direction of the maître d’. The room is dimly lit, soft music providing an ambiance to cover up the chatter of several disparate groups. In one corner, a group of college age couples out celebrating…something. In the middle, several couples and groups litter the floor like so many discarded toys, our table provides us visibility to see it all. To observe the comings and going of all parties as if we were some disinterested lords watching our subjects pretend at court. It was a novel way to pass the time while we waited on the wine menu to arrive.
We start simply, one glass of wine for you and a glass of scotch for me. One glass becomes two. Two becomes four, as they are wont to do during revelries and celebrations. Before we knew it, we had requested the bottles be left at our table, no expense to great for our evening. Nothing depends upon us, nothing, no responsibilities, no demands of our time, nothing but what ever strikes our fancy. Tonight, we are free, flowing from one frivolity to the next, flowing as easily as the wine from the bottle into your glass…which leads to a dilemma. You are quite ravishing in your simple black dress, pearls, and your hair done up in a simple pony tail and ribbon. The subdued light of the venue adding to your ethereal glow, catching my breath every time a look at you longer than a second or two. Your glow, your beauty, and possibly a lack of oxygen and blood flow to the appropriate head allow me to formulate a plan…as I place my hand gently on your thigh.
You smile at me, as I grin at you wickedly. You’re not sure what exactly is going on, but you get the feeling that I have mischief on my mind, and you’d be correct to assume that. From the lord’s table I tipped the maître d’ to sit us at, we can see the whole restaurant…but they can’t see us. Not very well anyways, and really nothing but our heads and shoulders at any rate. I lean over and whisper in your ear “You look delicious tonight…” as I begin to nibble on your ear lobe gently. You squeal quietly and pull away and playfully slap at me “Be good!” you whisper emphatically as I smirk at you again. “I’m always good…” I reply with a grin as my fingertips begin to trace little circles on the soft skin of your inner thigh, pushing the hem of your dress up a little with each rotation.
I’m not sure if it’s the wine, the atmosphere, my fingers, or some combination of all three…but you begin to blush softly in the dancing flicker of the candle light. It’s becoming obvious something is getting to you, since your nipples are poking through the light material of your dress proudly. I reach over, quite surreptitiously, and pinch one of them with just enough force to cause you to jump…and maybe moan? I definitely heard a soft moan come from you when I did that, and I begin to grin more openly at you. You look at me, defiantly grinning, but I do not hear a no. You begin to grin playfully at me as my fingers resume their slowly teasing dance up your thigh.
As my fingers march their way up your inner thigh, I lean in for a kiss. Your lips meet mine in a fierce exchange of passion that almost catches me off guard. I kiss you back, our tongues dancing against each other, flickering back and forth from my mouth to yours. The kind of kiss that would make many uncomfortable…if they could see us, but it is not their place to judge the lords of the manor. Our kiss deepens as my fingers continue their inexorable march up your thigh. Your dress is hiked up higher and higher with each passing second, and before long…if someone could see under the table, they would notice your alabaster skin, shining as pale moonlight while my fingers reach their final port of call.
You gasp as my fingers find your clit, not expecting such ministrations in the restaurant, but not refusing them either as your breath quickens against my kiss. Your heat is unbearable as the rest of my body craves to consume you, my fingers continue their slow, deliberate circles of your body as your wetness spreads with each squirm of your hips. Your body is dancing now, a lute plucked expertly by a virtuoso, your body is my concert hall and this performance, my magnum opus. With each tap, circle, caress, your body rises to crescendo until your feel the peak within reach, a wave crashing…
The gentle sound of a throat clearing brings you out of your reverie as my fingers quickly retreat from your eager flesh.
Our food has arrived.
We eat with an intensity to rival that of starving lions. Not messy, not rushing, but with a focus to match predators after the kill. The food is good, possibly even delicious, but we really don’t mind either way. We have…more important matters on our mind, and the food is in the way. We eat with gusto, and quickly the food is consumed, along with the wine. The bill arrives and I toss down enough cash to cover it and tip without question, without even reading it. My focus is elsewhere, my desire driving me wild. We stand up to leave…and suddenly we realize something, as the world gives an uncomfortable lurch. We are not 22 anymore, and are much out of practice when it comes to consuming copious amounts of wine. Neither of us are in any condition to drive to our room for the night. We could possibly walk, but stumbling in the dark of an unfamiliar city in a cold drizzle seems to be the wrong idea. Our only logical choice is to call an uber and ride back to the hotel.
It takes only a matter of moments for our ride to arrive, a comfortably sized SUV with ample room for us to climb into the middle row of seats. You snuggle into my side as we pull away from the curb and into traffic. The driver makes a bit of small talk and tells us it’ll be about 30 minutes before we’re able to reach the hotel. 30 minutes is an eternity when you’re intoxicated…and horny. I lean over and begin playfully nibbling on your ear again, attempting to gauge your reaction. It is much the same as it was in the restaurant, and I continue by pulling your face into mine to resume our kiss. Your body responds much as I’d hoped, melting into me and I feel your nipples once again poking through your dress. I run a hand up your thigh, and the hem of your dress once again begins working its way up, revealing the supple softness of your alabaster thighs. Once again, I feel more than hear, a soft moan against our kiss as I pull your upper body close to me, angling your thighs to allow me better access.